Almost A Month Out...I think perhaps I'm expecting too much of myself, too soon. After saying those three magic words..."I want out", I think I figured I'd hit the ground running. That the vast majority of my problems would shred and melt away like cotton-candy on my tounge.
In reality, the first week shocked me. I thought I'd grieved *in* the marriage. I had no idea that the boredom and frustration with the stasis would morph into grieving over the lost dream. Afterall, I thought, how could it become any more painful??
But then, the second week? Surprisingly good. Too good, I think now. This is so often compared to a rollercoaster for a reason, I now know. The highs can get quite high indeed, then you'll be watching tv and find yourself in wracking tears over a dog-food commercial.
Fortunately I had to see the STBX several times during weeks 2-3. The accountants office, our business, and some repairs around the house, all put us in the same space. Each time I saw him, I remembered EXACTLY why I wanted out. Not just the refusals at all, but his lack of restraint, his cluelessness as to how I might be feeling...the utter paucity of anything resembling empathy.
So, during that period, it seemed that everytime I might start feeling a bit concerned that I'd made a wrong decision, there he'd be to remind me.
For the past few weeks however, he's been out of town, and my life is...settling. Shifting. Finding a rhythm. And it's good, for the most part. Certainly no regrets over getting out! But I'm still trying to sort out my aloneness over my loneliness. To figure out which is which, and try to recognize the difference in my emotional state.
It's funny how I thought I'd know *exactly* how I would feel...I envisioned things much differently. Not better or worse, just...different.