Seventy

This is my seventieth post since I began this blog roughly 27 months ago. I hoped, when I began it, that I'd be able to keep myself honest in given moments as to what I was thinking or believing as well as to chart my own growth through divorce recovery. I think it's done both things. I do wish I'd be more recovered than I am at this point, but perhaps I'm where I need to be, and there's no "more" recovered. It's all a process.

I am watching Adam Chandler on my soap opera, curled into a fetal position because he's realized his wife cheated on him. I felt like that in the beginning, and I remember when each moment was a struggle and a burden after my husband left. Sleeping was a burden. Eating was a burden. Existing was a burden. It's not like that anymore, and it hasn't been for a long time. That's recovery.

I have entered into one longish and one shortish relationship since my divorce, and that's recovery.

I've conquered my life in many ways, if not all. And I see where there is work yet for me to do in becoming the person I want to be. That will take courage and patience (everything depends on being ready!), but I recognize the hurdles and mean to shore up my courage to face my fears. That's strength. That's recovery.

Courage isn't an absence of fear; have I said that here before? Courage is acting in spite of fear, because action is necessary.

There are so many games I play in my head about the divorce that nobody knows about. "Am I wearing any clothes my ex ever saw?" "If I log onto the messenger program, will the HL leave me a message (that I won't return, of course?)" When I play those games, it clarifies exactly how different life is now, despite of living in the same house and going to the same job, caring for the same cats and seeing some of the same friends. I forget that I have new furniture, new and marvelous friends, new clothes, new students, and even a new position at work in coming months. I have a new degree. I've taught new subjects, welcomed new family members, begun a new gym regime, and grown three years older. Everything changes. I forgot that. I forget that. I fear finding love again for fear of what might change, but I forget, it all changes anyway. Whether I change it or the world does it for me, everything changes. Choosing to move forward means action, not reaction. Deciding what I want and behaving accordingly, not living below the radar and hoping nothing happens to hurt me. More strength. More recovery.

It's all going to be okay. You know? It is. I'm so scared sometimes, but it's really going to be okay. I've learned so much more than I never knew I didn't know.