Diary of a Recovering Idiot

Chapter 9 - Moving On

Change can be a beautiful thing, or it can be the scariest thing that ever happens to you. That is the place I've been for a while. Trying to shake off that stalking evil called fear and it all comes back to my need to change. In the end, I asked myself if I was willing to accept the position I found myself in. My answer was a resounding no. I wasn't willing to accept the hell I've landed in, but I needed to get past the fear and do what I must. Fight to be where I needed to be—for me. That was the horribly hard part.

My life is now so unstable, that I would find myself drifting back into the sadness of being alone and not having my husband there with me anymore. I have made a few changes but when no one is around, I became a closet crier...a shower crier. I would flash back to the beautiful life I had and cry and cry while I asked myself why me and how did I get there? I hid the crying as best I could with eye drops and makeup to disguise the puffiness but the wallowing was destroying me.

My sister Linda had taken to dropping in and she spotted something is wrong. She sat down and really talked to me. Her words stopped me from drowning and guided me back to the surface...the light. What she told me was pure truth. I needed to climb out of the well of stupidity I had fallen into and take control of my life. In short, embrace change and this chance to go in a new direction. Linda has been the voice I needed. She spoke the truth. So what if Walter was gone I was alive and had two amazing children...I needed to live. She was there when I thought I couldn't make it, urging me to keep on track in the fight to reach my goals.

I was never one that coped well with change. If something I was accustomed to  changed, my world would grind to a halt and my husband telling me everything would be fine was the only thing that could calm me. He was my rock but look at what this so-called rock did. Just rolled off down the side of the mountain and left me exposed to battle the elements on my own. I had started to cope but what I needed to do was embrace the new possibilities coming in my life, pull on my big girl panties and jump right in and fight for my dreams.

Yes, the husband is gone and it hurt, but like my sister said, I'm still alive and that's what matters. Forget him. What was important was establishing a solid life for my darling angels and myself. Walter is still about, but truly he is the last person I should be even allowing myself to think about.

Thinking about him usually lead to crying along with intense anguish, and I knew I needed to remove those destructive emotions from my life. It was time for action, not crying and dwelling. Step one was to continue setting things in place to make sure our lives ran as smoothly as possible. I had been getting things done, but it has been a daily struggle to remain on track. It was the children that keep me going. If you have kids you know there is never a dull moment and that is what makes me take each step. The thing is I also needed to live for me as much as for them rather than just going through the motions.

My eight-year-old, Shane, was still his precocious self, but often, especially after his father calls, he becomes quiet and sulky. I try to give my children their space while still being a part of their life, and they always come to me when they have a problem, but this change in my son started to worry me. I knew when I was in a daze I probably missed a lot. Hiding in my room and crying after the bastard called didn't help either, but I'm here. I'm building my defenses against him but I needed to get fully up to speed.

I started to keep a better eye on the kids, making sure I found out from the teachers how they were getting on at school. According to the information I got, they seem quieter than usual, but so far there has been no other changes in behavior. That didn't mean that it wasn't the lull before the storm. I knew there father's abrupt departure had a significant impact and I was probably not the only one hurting.