Genesis

This will be a challenge.  I'm left-handed and a Pisces - I therefore have very little grasp of the mortal plane, preferring to live in the Ethereal as much as possible.  I've always been a dreamer, but an early introduction to alcoholism, verbal abuse, and extremely incompatible parents forced me down to earth.

What is the point of this blog?  To try, probably in vain, to get my thoughts in order as I go through my own divorce after 18+ years of marriage.

I think I entered into marriage very grounded.  He had been married before and had two daughters I adored. I saw what he went through with visitations, child support, etc. and I thought I had a good handle on how things would go.  I also knew him from work and his excellent reputation as a hard worker, innovator, troubleshooter, and problem solver was to be admired.  We married after exactly two years of dating.

The first few years of marriage were difficult.  Not between us, but because of issues that arose with the stepchildren.  One of them decided to have nothing to do with us, and the other was with us as often as possible.  Repeated visits to court were required because of the ex's refusal to use in-network doctors and the consequential gigantic medical bills for the child who refused him.  I took to raising the other child with as much love and attention as she would allow, and she blossomed into a lovely young lady.  I was, and still am, so proud of what she accomplished.  Would I have done things the same way she has?  Heck, no!  But she is who she is, and I've never been that brave.

Eventually, after miscarriages and other medical issues, we had Beauty.  I will paraphrase Rosie O'Donnell (because I cannot find the quote) who effectively said that becoming a mother kicks open a door in your heart that you didn't even know was there.  My world was flooded with love for my baby girl, but also for her older sister who loved her as well.  Watching the older with the younger was the loveliest thing I'd ever witnessed.

In the marriage, things were still going okay.  He was getting his degree, so I was doing the lion's share of the parenting, both of the infant and of the teen.  I was still working full time, doing all the shopping and cooking, all the trips to the orthodontist and pediatrician, the school meetings, the school plays.  I knew things would equalize again once the degree was achieved.

Two years later, my Beast came along.  My heart couldn't possibly be any more full.  By then, the teen had decided the grass was greener at her mother's house, and had moved back there and begun a steady decline.  Eventually, back she came, and up she rose.  Meanwhile, my babies were growing and doing something new every day, and they were amazing to me.

He got his degree.  I threw him a party.  We didn't equalize.

Suddenly, I was being told what I could do differently; what I was doing wrong; why I was not good enough.  I could look at my babies and see that they were flourishing, bright, interested in the world around them.  My boss was happy with me.  My house, while never entirely tidy, was always clean and healthy for us.  What WAS I doing wrong, I wondered?

But I was going to be married forever.  I was not going to fail.  I buried my feelings of injustice under layers of trying harder, doing better, making him happy.