I am terrified of being alone.
People have told me that I was already alone with Bob anyhow, so what is the difference?
There is a big difference. Although he wasn't able to be much of a partner here, he was still here. In the kids eyes, he was still here. I still had the idea that I had somebody. And there was the idea of us being a whole family. The idea of having a husband and being married. Even if we were broken.
I could hug and kiss him if I wanted to. We still had some laughs once in awhile. I could nag him to take out the trash if I wanted to. He could give rides, pour cereal, and keep my leaving the house for long periods of time, legal.
I took the boys to a mall for a Kendama battle this past weekend. It was "Kid's Day" at the mall. The Easter bunny (I hate that bunny) was there and there were a lot of families with small kids. Lots of dads. Doing their thing. Helping, happy to be there. Being appropriate, involved, present, and all of it.
So I got (and still get) stuck comparing my insides to their outsides. The way they looked and the kind of life I imagined they had. I'm sure many of them were as happy and healthy as they looked. But I also know that many of them probably weren't. Even so, I found myself feeling jealous and cynical. Like I wanted to whisper in their ear when I passed them by, "That will never, ever last."
I struggle with feeling sorry for myself for not having a partner. I was feeling terrible about the place that I am at, at 42 years of age. Obviously something in my head, like fucking society, has made me believe that I am not a whole, complete person unless someone of the opposite sex loves me. Who am I if I don't have a husband? This change needed in my thinking is difficult for me to get used to. Wanting to share my life with a partner is human. And when you have kids, it is also easier. But it doesn't make me a person.
I catch myself wondering who the hell would ever want to share their life with me and all of my shit? Am I going to be all alone forever? Then I have to remind myself that I haven't even been separated for four whole months, and for god's sake, chill the fuck out. No one said I would be alone forever, or that even if I am, that I can't be happy. But this is where my mind goes. All the way to forever.
Fear is a bitch.
I started doing this blog to connect with other addicts, share my story with others, and get help by helping. I wanted to show that recovery is possible and that life is better sober. I don't know if these pity-party posts help anyone, or even help me. I think this process of separation is harder than I imagined. And even with a 12-step program, and people to talk to who have been here before, it isn't going to be done without pain. But it can be done. And I am doing it, even though I am terrified. There is no perfect or softer way to feel these feelings. They are painful, and real. I know I'll get better with time. This is life.
On a good note, the snow is melting. And I love the smell of melting snow. Have a good day!