Down...but not out

I was waiting for a day to come when I felt perky enough to write a post.   You know, relatively upbeat.  Cautiously optimistic.  But that day is yet to arrive and I can't avoid splurging any longer. 

This whole 'heavy veil of sadness' thing seems to be depleting me of everything that I once liked about myself.  My energy.  The view that my life is always glass half full.  Generally being daft.  The past four years have been so emotionally trying - and so fucking lonely - that they are causing me to doubt that I will ever be happy and carefree again.  Maybe this is just me now forever...morose, needy, exhausted, unable to see and appreciate the blessings even in challenging circumstances.  What I would do to turn back time and make different choices, to be able to take a different path than this.

I am just so very, very tired. 

I am also so very, very tearful.  Constantly.  Sometimes in front of the boys even, which I have always managed to avoid in the past.  The look of concern on their faces and the touch of their plump hands on my shoulders, around my neck or patting my back do nothing to stem the flow of emotion of course.  Bad mummy.  Bad, bad mummy.  My boys need me to be strong and resourceful and resilient.  But I am all out of those traits at the moment.  I scrabble about the bottom of my handbag, hoping to find remnants of courage and hope and laughter, but of course all I get for my troubles is a few screwed up chewing gum wrappers and the obligatory raisin. 

If only I could just stop feeling so tired. 

Mediation finally started nearly 6 weeks ago.  And in that time we have managed to attend 2 meetings, both of which were charged with tension, latent hurt and unaddressed anger, on both parts.  The 2nd meeting was particularly eventful - featuring a bun fight of such proportions that ex and I were ultimately separated.  The main bone of contention being, of course, the date of a move back to the UK.  Which, despite our agreement in February, is now not going to take place this summer.

Of course it isn't.  How silly of me to ever think he would honour his word?

I can see the sense in the decision.  We do need to take time to sort out this divorce.  I have nothing to gain in the long run from rushing decisions that will impact my future financial security and parenting responsibilities.   And I am trying to let go of the frustration that ex has deliberately stalled on attending mediation to achieve this outcome.  The man has a part-time live in girlfriend yet it is still not within his interests to divorce me.  I know why he is dragging his heels - and I know I fall pretty low down on his list of priorities.  I also know that mediation is unlikely to work simply because he has demonstrated quite clearly that he does not want to find time in his schedule to attend. 

Again - I know that none of this is through malicious intent.  But it is self-serving. And maybe I need to follow his lead and be a little more self-serving too.  Despite all the recent upheavals ex and I are still on speaking terms.  We are not friends, but we are friendly.  Things are currently amicable.  Let's hope they remain that way once I file for divorce.  I just don't see another way of finalising this chapter in my life than taking it into my own hands - and making something happen that will hopefully stop this cycle of control and manipulation.

Maybe then the panic attacks will cease.  The ability to sleep will return.  My loss of appetite will reinstate itself and, with it, the ability to do more than just splod through the motions each day with all the enthusiasm of a eunuch on a quest for a condom.  Maybe then I will get to move home. 

In the meantime, I did manage to complete one task to cheer myself up.  I have sponsored a little girl from Haiti called Lovemy.  Isn't that the most incredible name?  She is 6 years old.  So I finally have a daughter in the family.  Hopefully the first of many children from around the world.  The boys and I are currently working on our first pack of letters, drawings, photos and postcards to send her.  I already feel so much love for this smiling little girl, standing in the dust and the dirt in her clean yet worn sundress and hair braided with the big plastic bobbles that I remember from my own childhood.  Her situation certainly puts mine into perspective.  I wonder if she will ever understand what a gift she is to my life right now? 

A reminder that my life is more than just struggling to officiate the end of a relationship and move home to my family and friends.  It is also about new beginnings.  And family.  And love.  Always love.