starting from scratch

I’m sitting here in bed looking out over the city, and I’m calm. I’m happy. And I’m so proud of myself. I, my dear Open Diary, am starting from scratch. I am 34 years old (at least for another week or so), and I’ve thrown it all out.

I quit my job at the end of July. For obvious reasons based on the title of my last entry.

I started therapy twice a week in August.

In September I said I wasn’t happy. I suggested a trial separation.

In October I went to a cabin in the woods for 4 days by myself and had the most peaceful, self-fulfilling vacation I’ve had in a long time.

In November we started couples counseling.

I went home for Christmas for almost two weeks of December with my family. Alone.

And… in January we separated.

A lot of people tend to express their empathy / grief / sad-face when you tell them you’ve just separated. But I now know that that’s really misplaced empathy. All of the hard work and emotional turmoil and wondering if you’re crazy happens just to get to that decision. Was I a wreck about this? Of course. During all of 2018 basically. But 2019 me? 2019 me is a new me. I am at peace. I am happy. HE is happy. We want the best for each other. And 2019 is the year of decision.

I’m interviewing for jobs. It’s weird how finding a job is not nearly as daunting as it felt for the past 6 months. Ohhh right it’s because I’m finally emotionally in a place to deal with it. I’ve got a few pokers in the fire, one of which I’m stupidly excited about. Every time I tell someone about the job, they say, “wait that’s YOU.” Yeah, it’s really that me.

But mostly, I just look around at my new life, in my new studio apartment overlooking the city I love, and I’m just fucking PROUD of myself. Impressed with myself. This is the first time I’ve lived alone since 3 months during the summer of 2005. Think about that for a sec. In the summer of 2005 I was 21. Oh and also that was the only time I’ve ever lived on my own. Now… in a lot of ways, I’ve practically been doing it all myself for awhile now. So it shouldn’t come as a surprised that I can take care of myself. And yet… it does.

It does because I’ve never been able to be completely intentional about how I want to live. I fell into a lot of habits, resigned myself into a way of life that I was in some ways powerless to fight. I’m such a different person now… with more carefully articulated values, and with more certainty of myself. I now have the power to live on a budget if I choose. Like actually carefully track spending and cutting down on waste. I could do that before to some extent, but I could never get him totally on board. I couldn’t even get him to eat leftovers. From take out food. Hell I couldn’t even get him to keep things reasonably clean or organized.

Here, in my own home, I’ve been cooking. I’ve been constantly straightening up after myself. I feel proud and relaxed in my space. (ok there’s still a little unpacking to do but I’ve only been in this apartment for a week so cut me some slack) And I don’t think there’s any other place in the city that would’ve made me happier. It is precisely what I’ve needed, and very, very similar to what I’ve always wanted.

Ok, soo new relationship status… check. New apartment… check. New job… work in progress. Dating/love life/action… oh fuck … ?!?!?

(in)decision