I did it
I finally filed the paperwork to divorce him. You would think I would feel relieved. Overjoyed. Elated. Maybe after reading my journey, you might think I'd be panicked, waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for the outbursts of anger and other emotions. But even though I'm terrified that I'm going to lose everything, the relief I thought I would feel is replaced with sadness. A deep, consuming, gnawing pain.
Reading back over my memories of our relationship should evoke anger or shame. Shame for allowing myself to be treated the way he treated me. Anger for being so stupid and taking so much shit. I'm not going to pretend I'm happy, because I'm the furthest thing from it. My heart is broken, just like my marriage.
I couldn't sleep last night. Seeing my name vs. his on the docket brought out a pain I can't describe. It's honestly something I am struggling to compartmentalize. Knowing that this is just the first stone laid of a path that will perhaps be the hardest journey yet. I have to remember who I am outside of this relationship. Who am I outside of being a married woman? I've been part of a lopsided partnership for the last 11 years. It wasn't always bad. But it wasn't ever really great either.
Over all the years of our marriage, I've been second fiddle to his addictions. I was so blinded to it because he was so good at hiding it. I knew he enjoyed the drink, and sometimes he would indulge in other pleasures--who hasn't? But I was so disillusioned and really thought he had it together. But isn't that the way an addict works? They can hide all of their secrets and problems under the mask. It wasn't until Nickolas was already born that the mask began to slip. I started to see glimpses of how bad it really was, and often I would try to rationalize it: he was stressed about becoming a stepdad, as well as having a kid of his own, he wanted to get a better paying job, he was stressed at work. I was in the middle of getting my M.Ed... there always seemed to be some reason why it made sense for him to need a drink to "unwind".
Now I just see that he had every excuse in the world and would have had them despite all the things that were going on. An addict doesn't need any excuses to drink. They'll find a way to rationalize it no matter what.
So, here we are now. I am probably going to have to hire a process server for him to receive the paperwork. He's trying to tell me again how this time will be different, how he's going to change again, for real. How people who are married go through hills and valleys--which is true. But we hit a valley a long time ago and rather than trying to get right (which I was), he kept digging and has made zero attempts to get out of the hole he's dug himself into.
I did all the things I could have done to be supportive. I tried getting him in touch with people who could help him on his journey to sobriety, gave him books, tried to work on us by trying to figure out love languages, went on trips, went to an aura reader, went to psychics, went to church, tried marriage counseling. I did every single thing a person would do to show support. He threw it all back in my face. He didn't follow through with AA or NA, he ignored the love language hints I left for him, all of the trips we went on were filled with drugs or alcohol, the psychic told me to cut my losses, the aura reader told him that he needed to let go of his negativity because his aura had dark spots in it, and it was only a matter of time before that darkness consumed him. Scripture told me that there is forgiveness for all of God's children; even those who had chosen divorce. You've read about how marriage counseling went. I. Did. All. The. Things. I fucking tried, earnestly fucking tried.
The only thing I haven't done so far is chosen me. And 2024 is the year I choose me. I deserve to be loved the way I love others.
So, why am I so sad?
If any of my friends, my sisters, my nieces, or my daughter told me about half of the shit that I've described, or even a fraction of the shit that went down that I haven't said, I would have packed any one of them a bag and had them living in my house, no questions asked. I would have beaten the shit out of the guy in question without a second thought. Don't read too deep into that--he's never laid hands on me because I think a. He's not that kind of person and b. He knows that I would fight back.
I hope I can actually sleep tonight. Here's to a healthy relationship with pain medicine and hoping it will actually put me to sleep.