explored the possibilities . . . art, life, love . . . in three words
Monday, May 25, 2009
. . . couldn't believe myself
Seriously. . . how could I be more boring? I have nothing to show for my time. No garden pictures, no other photographs. No art, except this little piece of foamcore that I worked on a while back. The red painting I was working on is stuck. . . something is missing and I can't get it right, so I've put it aside for a while. I haven't posted here forever, and imagine, I used to post every single day. I have sold no art; I have not listed the house for sale; I have made no effort to find a job. Friends and family ask me, "What are you doing?" My stock answer recently has been "I don't know what I'm doing, so I'm not doing anything." I keep waiting for a sign, some mental clarification, some good old fashion gumption. Perhaps it came, while I was asleep. I'm afraid to make any decisions because they could be wrong, especially when I change my mind almost daily about all kinds of things. Selling and house and looking for a job seem hopeless in this economy.
For those of you who do not know, my husband moved out of the house at the end of January. He is not coming back (my decision). I have not said much about it here because the woman he lives with reads this blog. But I don't care any more. He has many problems, but the one that currently affects me the most is the fact that he has no job. I am spending my savings to keep up with daily living expenses, and I'm running out. I have filed for a divorce, after being married for 38 years, but my attorney is hesitant to finalize it until such time as my husband is gainfully employed so that he can contribute to my care and feeding. My kids are pissed off, to say the least, at their father, but also seemingly at me, too. The babies miss their Papa. The rest of my family is supportive, but the entire subject is like the huge elephant in the middle of the room that everyone is trying to ignore. I am not accustomed to doing things by myself, but I'm trying to learn. I don't like being the fifth wheel, the extra, the poor ol' Aunt Mary that everyone is feeling sorry for. And of all the shitty things that my soon-to-be-ex has done, the worst is that he took his girlfriend to meet his mother while she was in the hospital. Take my husband, if you must, but leave the rest of the family alone.
I never expected to find myself in this situation. I am sad that I will never go to Europe with my husband; that we will not celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary; that our family dynamic will never ever be the same as it was. I am going to be poor. . . seriously poor. . . and soon. I've been broke before, but I was young and hopeful, healthy and optimistic that things would be better someday. I only have a limited number of "somedays" ahead of me, and it's scary as hell.
I didn't mean to spill my guts here, but perhaps this all explains my total lack of activity here and elsewhere. I have always done what it takes to makes things better for my family; I'm wondering why I'm finding it difficult to do the same for myself.