I've been listening to the new Wolf Parade album non-stop. I love them for so many reasons, not the least of which one of them is from right here in my town. Music is healing for me, helps me to explore and understand my moods and feelings and gives me something to relate to. Not unlike reading blogs.

We spent the afternoon lazily at the lake. The kids swimming and sunning. I was feeling calm and melancholy. I feel that way a lot.

A quiet resolve. Trying to be at peace with this loneliness.

It's not that different from my life was as a stay at home. That was lonely too. Days spent with children and rare adult interaction. The days are still the same. I think the loneliness comes from knowing that at night there will be no adult conversation. There will be kids and baths and bedtime stories, or there will be work. With work, at least, i get some adult conversation. But, it is really a one way street. People like to talk about themselves, i like to indulge them. It helps me to escape my life for awhile. Imagine their lives and how different they are from mine.

In ways it is good. I am really beginning to know myself. See all the little faults. I would say i am getting used to this, but that's not it. It's a resolve to loneliness.

"People don't just break up."

That's what he said. He didn't understand how all this happened. How we got to this place of separate houses, children shuffled back and forth.

"how did this happen to us?"

And we sit and we talk. Sometimes the conversation is light and friendly. Just like it always was. Two friends. Two lives forever inter-mingled. Histories made together.

Often we end in tears. Tears of frustration and anger and sadness all mixed together. It is almost too painful for both of us.

The desire to figure out the problems. To try and fix them always opens the conversation back up. And we always walk away feeling worse. Problems highlighted. Regret, longing, desire becoming the new themes in this relationship. Words that we want to roll up in a ball and toss in the fire. Words that we can't manage to get past.

This theme of running has been coursing it's way through my head the last few days.

Running from problems.
Running from hurt.
Running from reality.
Running from potential.

I think at moments, at times, we all run. It's human nature to want to avoid confrontation. The potential for hurt emotions, or worse, humiliation.

I have purposely slowed down this week. I have done my running. It has left me exhausted. But, i have landed now. A new home, a new life. Same things grounding me as they always have. Children, family, friends.

If i keep running i stand to lose these things. Perhaps not physically, but emotionally. Life, for all it's ups and downs, is always a learning experience and sometimes good things rise out of the ashes of the bad. I have found myself again. Through hours of introspection and searching. I am finally seeing the woman i am, the woman who got lost in the rush of life.

All the positive and negative images of my life coming together like an old album that i can flip through; laugh at the mistakes with a knowing nod and celebrate all the joy.

And you sit here in your freezing house because you ran out of oil and the wood stove only heats one room and is so much work to keep going and the kids are miserable and cold as are you sleeping fully clothed, shivering, not remembering the last time you were warm and the kids ask "why can't we all just live together?" and you cry quietly in the bathroom for all you have lost and the poverty that has crept in to your life and another night of pasta for dinner and the endless oddjobs that you do just to make ends meet when they really aren't meeting at all and your husband, cause we are not divorced yet, sits in your house with your name on the mortgage papers entertaining girlfriends in your dream home in your fancy bed that you bought together because of the painful sciatica you had in the 2nd, 3rd and 4th pregnancies, the bed where you conceived children, the sheets you bought, the blankets your grandmother knitted, the house you made a home, the chicken coop left barren and empty, the yard you tried to beg into submission all left unattended and you brought this all on yourself as you sit lonely and stewing as you sent him away with best wishes and intentions just a few days ago to pursue his life and you think this really sucks.

rant off

I've been holding back.

I've been holding back. I have family, and ex-family-in-law, and friends, and foes, and lovers all reading this thing.

This fucking thing. This blog. It is the dinosaur on my back. I love it so much. The outlet to write. To spew forth. Yet, i have lost it. And tonight. Tonight i am pissed off.

I am pissed off at all the women in their thirties and forties who feel the need to be all boobed up and tightened and highlighted. The men who make this misgiven, mistaken beauty persevere. Ugly eighties porn has become the norm for women who are in their most beautiful, confidant bodies they will ever have search for twenty-something.

Divorce's become desperate, men and women, to go back to who they were in their twenties. Who really wants twenty back? Uncomfortable, unsure, in every single thing you do. Will i succeed? Am i good enough. Am i strong enough. Can i face this world.

In your thirties, whatever your circumstance, you begin to realize that this is it. This is what life is. You can let it all in. Embrace it. The kids, the job, the sex life that matures and becomes boring - ready to be renewed in a thirties body.

And despite whatever i have said - divorce sucks. It really fucking sucks. Starting again. Initially titillating. Quickly becomes another job. Another stress.

And you see yourself out there. And you fancy yourself different. But soon, you are worrying about a life alone. You are not what you thought you might be. You are just another single mother. In a long line of single mothers.

And i am pissed off to be censored, by me, by you.

Each time i hear of another family crumbling. Separating. It breaks my heart a little.

Seven months in to this situation i have only a little perspective. The hardest part is done. People tell me that at least. The initial shock and heartbreak, anger and resentment, hatred and love - having run their course. Like a death. The stages of grief. Losing a family in the way you were used to, it is like a death. The death of a dream of a life of happiness. Children growing, and graduating and blossoming. Adventure and retirement. Slowly growing old together. Becoming bickering and loving elderly couples sitting on the park bench. Giggling, holding hands.

All of those dreams vanish. You attempt to make new dreams. But it is nearly impossible to visualize a future that doesn't exist. That you have no idea who the characters might be. Terrifying. Thinking of yourself old and grey. Sitting alone on that bench.

I don't have any answers to the questions that plague me lately. The worry. Is this what it will be now. Is there something more for me. Will love find me. Give me a tender, wrinkled hand to hold. Someone to share a cup of coffee with on a blossoming spring day.

Please listen to this song.

It has been my theme song lately. I skip around whistling it in my head. It's just one of those things, one of those songs that seems to fit perfectly with your life at a moment.

That's what i love about music. That's why i think i've always been attracted to and attracted musicians. I have such a respect for the talent. The magic of those perfect moments. Sometimes it's at a live show and sometimes it's right in your living room.

I have been introspective lately. Really looking in on myself. Trying to piece together my life. How it all came together as it has. Reflecting not on the negative, but the positive. The friends that have come in and out of my life. The memories that have stuck around. Amazed by the little things i remember.

Small moments in my marriage and my dating life before my marriage where i felt absolute joy. Pure love, brief moments forever etched into my memory. My heart.

I really want my marriage to be something i remember fondly. Something that i can share with the kids. Because it didn't last forever doesn't mean that i want to erase it from my life. I was married to a wonderful man. We had four beautiful children. I will always love him. It just didn't work out. For a multitude of reasons.

But, the reasons don't matter anymore. If i focus and dwell on those i will never be happy. I will never be able to celebrate that period of my life and the bounty it produced.

I will never call him "my ex." It's so shallow. So mean. He will always be shane.

I miss my chickens. Somehow i am focusing on them. The simplicity and beauty of raising farm animals, or poultry. Feeding, cleaning, dealing with the nasty gross stuff. Having something in common to talk with the farmers about. Being a part of the rural farming community. It was the height of domestic bliss for me. Children, chickens, the christmas turkey. A sense of pride in learning how to raise chickens.

Life has been up and down over the past few weeks. Storms have been making their yearly appearance. My old house, shane's house, had a tree fall on the power lines. It left him without power last week and he spent three days camped out on my couch. It was nice. It was hard. Falling into old routines so easily.

It was confusing for the kids. They liked having us all together again. We all liked it. The nights were not so easy. I had many tears. Shane and i were confused and uncomfortable with the new arrangements. It felt odd, going to bed, him sleeping on the sofa. Waking up with him gone.

On friday i had a chance meeting with an old friend. She had so many words of wisdom for me, having been through all this herself. She told me that no matter why this happened, it happened for a reason. All the guilt in the world will not help me.

I realized, finally, that i was dying in my old life. Literally. Something had to change. I made that change happen. I will always regret the way it all came about. But. But, the change, has been incredible. The pride i feel when i walk into my own house. When at the end of every week i know i have provided, all on my own, for my family. When i fall into bed, exhausted, after 14 hour workdays. After all of it. I smile at myself in the mirror. I have been brave. I have never been brave before.

It is always hard when i pick up the kids on monday. The transition from house to house. The emotions.

They always greet me with such enthusiasm. Kisses and love. It rejuvenates me.

I am always exhausted on monday mornings. Having done nothing but work since the moment i drop them off on friday. This weekend it was almost sixty hours of work. A long weekend full of busy restaurants. Families celebrating time together. Remembering loved ones and families lost in battle.

A weekend full of customers wanting to talk, to share their experiences. It is nice to be a part of this theatre. The theatre of dining. I go home and fall into bed. Dreaming of soldiers and children. Nightmares about slow service in the bistro. Spilling soup on clean clothes.

Then i pick up the kids and i want to give them everything i have. But, i have so little. Totally body exhaustion takes over. I find myself face down on the floor. Sound asleep while they play around me. And then begins the crazy week of school and playdates and activities and working still.

It is hard, merging these two lives i have now. Doing it alone. Wanting to share with someone how incredibly tired i am. Someone to help. Someone to tell me it's all going just fine.

I have very little today.

I signed my separation agreement yesterday.

Tonight i burned my copy in the fire.

It is only money.

It is the end of a life.

I threw my wedding ring in too.

It's been a week. The hardest one yet. I'll recap.

The weekend was full of double shifts, long days and long nights. Packing up the condo in my hour between jobs. Stressing about the actual move.

Packing up my stuff from the old house. Remembering the day we moved in, a house full of promise.

A message on my cell phone saturday night saying that eliza had jumped from a high spot and broken her foot. Shane leaving the kids with his mother as he left on a business trip. Remembering our trip to miami last fall.

Trying to call and see how eliza was, calls unanswered, messages not returned. Having to get a friend to call and speak to my mother-in-law to find out what was going on. Hysterical calls from eliza begging me to go and get her. Why did i have to work? Why couldn't i just call in sick and go get her?

Moving early monday morning. Going to the house and having to see my mother-in-law for the first time. Her refusing to look at me. A curt exchange of information about the kids. Leaving my old home half empty.

Unpacking the house in a rush so that i could finally go and see my kids. Pick them up from school. Excited to see the house.

Happy children. Feeling better.

Call from school parent. Wants to meet with me. Asks me to resign as president. Tears flowing. So much work. Years of work left unappreciated. Refuse to resign.

Back to double shifts on wednesday. Kids go trick or treating without me. My wonderful friend brings them to the restaurant to see me and march around in their costumes.

This morning babysitter cancels. Call in sick to day job. Have unexpected day with parker and eliza.

We wander out to get fire wood from the shed and a large buck is there. He stares at us gently and continues foraging right in front of us. We are happy. We feel at home. Our new home is perfect.

I finally found my camera cord and will take pictures this week. Begin writing again. The therapeutic sound of keyboard clacking. Sitting by a warm fire while my kids explore the new home. Become part of the history of this hundred year old home. We can hear the generations of children that have laughed inside these walls.

The promise of a new life with new hope is sitting here. Waiting for me to let it begin.

I have a scarlet letter. That's how it feels. As i wander around the schoolyard, the grocery store. This town is so small.

There's a song on the new Band of Horses album with the line;

"this town is so small
how can anyone not smile
or look me in the eye
or wave as i drive by"

That's how i feel.

I packed up my stuff from my marital home today. I gathered things and knick-knacks. Small, worthless things that hold all the history. I remember when each thing was given, or purchased. How small things made that house a home. Splitting the things up seemed wrong. Taking away the specialness of a family created. Splintering it. Destroying the memory.

My marriage was a good thing. We never really fought. We had a lot of fun together. Created four beautiful children. The last few years were still fine. We just grew apart. My depression created a large hole in the floor. A crevice that grew and grew till the distance between us on the sofa might as well have been a mile. We always loved each other though. I still love him. I always will. I will always cherish the life we had together.

It was. It is hard. I need to do what's best for me. It may not be best for my kids. A family is best. I need to recreate that for them. A different kind of family. Me and them. Him and them. It will be okay. I will be healthier.

Let me tell you about my children. They are amazing. They are giving me strength. The minute i see them i feel my purpose.

All the work. All the writing.

It's all for them.

Trying to find my way, figure my way, through these murky waters.

i never thought i could be so lonely. i never imagined life to be this hard. so free.

freedom is over-rated. under-achieved. over-worked.

i'm tired. too much work. too few kids. the ominous christmas ahead.

I'm off to work, but in love with my new computer. The photo is to prove that i am still alive and lovely in my work blacks. The black suits me just fine.