Certified (or certifiable?)

Things are good, and when they are, I have this immediate habit of being grateful.  I also tend to constantly look back at benchmarks and acknowledge where I was along the way.  On the journey from somewhat-happily married to today, I sometimes have trouble believing I’m the same person, but then again, in a lot of ways, I’m actually not.

As I read about Heather’s need for some space to take care of herself,  it takes me right back to the fall of 2010 when Man and I were separating;  I drank a lot of wine, I watched a lot of Dexter, I ate to soothe my pain (I remember making a special trip to the grocery store just to buy Hallowe’en candy that I had no intention of sharing), and I did what I could to muddle through what was happening.  I cried and listened, and took support as it was handed to me.  I also holed up inside myself to begin processing it all.

I faked bravado and moved out…fell in love with my new life and my new home and transitioned Baxter into the same, but I still struggled.  I wondered if we had given up too quickly, I thought and rethought and continued to trudge on.  I saw my own potential.  I realized that I would laugh and I would cry, but it would all be okay.

And I made some plans.  Five years of them.  I got clear on the woman I wanted to become. I decided I was going to go after my certification level in coaching, I was going to take the leap.  And I did.  A year ago, I was preparing to be in school – buying supplies I would need, preparing meals for the freezer, automating every single thing I could.  I started this on June 15th, 2011 – the same day that the Canucks epically choked in Game 7 and the riots occurred. I reached a finish line, of sorts yesterday, when I received the final notice that I had passed everything and was completely certified.  I have the letters behind my name!  It felt good.  Truthfully, I had very little doubt I would, but it was sure nice to get that envelope.

So now I begin again.  I’ve been working for all this time to get to the Start Line, and now I’m here, ready to set out on new legs.  It’s a new chapter.  One where I know I made the right decision in leaving my marriage.  One where I know I have to live with the regrets that I have and the thought that I may have lost some of my best years in a relationship that ultimately ended.  One where I know there is so damn much amazing and awesome to come, that if I could see it all, I would be blinded by all the light.

In some ways, I can’t believe I’m where I am, but in others, I can’t imagine it was ever any other way.

 

Moving!

What a difference a week makes. 

Last week, I was driving my friend’s Lotus, pulling over periodically to take calls from my realtor as we settled on a price for a small townhouse I wanted to buy.  Today, I just pulled out of the deal (due to many factors, among them too-complicated financing until I can sell the house that Man and I foolishly bought this summer before everything imploded), and in a couple of hours, I am meeting my new landlord!  It all happened fast, but the bottom line is I am moving in exactly a month, and January 29th will now be known as Freedom Day.

The place I’m moving to is pretty cute, it’s 2 bedrooms, so I can store all the stuff I want from the house and will use when I buy something later next year, and it’s pretty well equipped for me to get back on my feet.  It’s in a whole new area to me, so exploring the neighborhood is going to be Fun, and the best part is that Baxter is welcome to be there with me.  I am picturing lots of well-deserved puppy joy as we get settled together.  Bliss.

Getting through January will be easy, I think.  I’ve built in tons of time where I don’t have to see Man AT ALL, I’m finally at a point where I hardly ever feel like crying about all this (I know I’m doing the work I need to here, and it’s taking me to good places – it’s refreshing to be finally thinking about MYSELF and not giving a lick about, well, anyone that doesn’t matter to me and isn’t making my life BETTER) and at the end of it, I will be gleefully On My Own again.  Also, there is lots to go through at the house, and I have a geee-iant list of things I have to do, arrange for, and find before I can move.  January is gonna go fast!

Day 2: #Reverb10

The prompt:

Writing.  What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing – and can you eliminate it.

My answer:

I tend to overthink, and that stops me in my tracks from getting the words out.  I don’t keep it simple, I turn it into a stupid Algebraic math problem.  If I just sat, and wrote the crap, all would be well.  I used to do something called Morning Pages, where I’d grab my notebook and just fearlessly write until 3 pages were full and my mind was overflowing with morning thoughts – I think I might try to go back to that, at least a few times a week.

There.

–

In other news, Man and I are officially heading to split. 

Initially I felt relieved that a decision was made and I could stop trying to avoid the tiny voice in my head that kept telling me it was over, then I felt a lot of shock and a resulting insane euphoria, then as I cruised through nearly a bottle of wine, then I sobbed, and sobbed until I finally fell asleep.  The dog insisted on hanging out with me on the bed last night while I did all this, and I think there was a reason he ended up staying the whole night.  I needed his warm little body and to realize it’s bigger than my pain.

Done.  And it’s okay.  I am owning it, and living it, and I am going to be a thousand percent okay.  One day.