So today, just this morning, the dissolution was granted.
It was a mess of paperwork that I really got lucky on this morning, having brought way more copies than I thought I needed of various things - and hitting it right on the nose.
Slightly awkwardsauce sitting in the waiting hall for the magistrate to call us in. Then 10 minutes of "do you agree?" "do you agree?" and she complimented us on how we had made it through the system without help and wished everyone was as well-organized and mild-mannered as we were.
It was a good feeling, but then we said our goodbyes and crossed the street and ...lost? The leftover chains had dropped, the remaining weight off my shoulders, but there I was on a thin, stone path both sides bottomless water, all covered in fog, my bearings lost.
Still kind of feel like that now, a few hours later. Not scared, but not sure which direction to go. I dropped my daughter off at college last Thursday, dropped my marriage today. Things feel ...hollow right now. Happy the clutter is gone but curious about what to do with the space.
Good news is I suppose I worried this blog would dissipate after today, and I'm quickly realizing today easily could have been the very first post.
Showing posts with label dissolutionment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dissolutionment. Show all posts
Monday, August 25, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Filed and Waiting...
So I filed.
After a while of waiting for our lawyer friend to get us the paperwork and me finally saying "let's just turn it in," I took what we had to my lawyer buddy who quickly made one suggestion and I set out to file on July 11th.
I thought it was providence. July 11th was 14 years to the day that I met MS. I went in there with my $275 and all my documents photocopied 4x for submission, a file folder an inch thick.
And they said "sorry."
"Everything here looks good, but I seem to be missing a petition."
"What? We went through everything you guys had online and two friends familiar with the system and didn't see "petition" mentioned."
"Sorry. You'll have to both sign this and add it to the bundle and we can process you then."
ARGH!
So I met with MS for a quick signing. We were both frustrated on that missing bit. I returned on 7/14 (Bastille Day!) and they took the paperwork, which is a weird, uneasy feeling of "do you know what you're doing with all that?" and a back and forth to three different desks - and then the final scheduling. We dissolve near the end of August. I'll post here when it's done.
I felt so broken on the 11th, and then when it was done on the 14th, felt so empty of the joy I was expecting. No happy dance that day. Maybe in a few weeks?
After a while of waiting for our lawyer friend to get us the paperwork and me finally saying "let's just turn it in," I took what we had to my lawyer buddy who quickly made one suggestion and I set out to file on July 11th.
I thought it was providence. July 11th was 14 years to the day that I met MS. I went in there with my $275 and all my documents photocopied 4x for submission, a file folder an inch thick.
And they said "sorry."
"Everything here looks good, but I seem to be missing a petition."
"What? We went through everything you guys had online and two friends familiar with the system and didn't see "petition" mentioned."
"Sorry. You'll have to both sign this and add it to the bundle and we can process you then."
ARGH!
So I met with MS for a quick signing. We were both frustrated on that missing bit. I returned on 7/14 (Bastille Day!) and they took the paperwork, which is a weird, uneasy feeling of "do you know what you're doing with all that?" and a back and forth to three different desks - and then the final scheduling. We dissolve near the end of August. I'll post here when it's done.
I felt so broken on the 11th, and then when it was done on the 14th, felt so empty of the joy I was expecting. No happy dance that day. Maybe in a few weeks?
Friday, October 11, 2013
Homecoming Was Weird
I was planning on a weekend at a music fest, but Mini's Homecoming Dance was in full effect.
To clarify: I didn't think she should have gone. Mini hadn't completed one of her online class assignments. This wasn't an arbitrary thing or a missing of an assignment or two; she was two weeks behind in online lessons. I told MS Mini shouldn't go (she's been warned). And MS said she could go anyway.
So conflict enough, I told her I'd come over to see her before heading to the music festival. And when I got there, to the house we lived in together, Dude was there. No warning; I guess I should've expected it. And when I got there, Mini was getting her hair set. And there was Dude. And MS said she was going to do Mini's hair in the bathroom.
There I was: my daughter getting her hair done in the bathroom, Dude hanging out, and Mini at least 45 minutes from getting in her dress. Staying would mean making smalltalk with Dude for about 45 minutes. And as Mini was walking to the bathroom, I was bordering on a panic attack. So I hugged her, told her I loved her, and left for the show. I didn't give a shit about the show in position to seeing her in her dress, but it meant small-talking with her boyfirned.
Right or wrong, I left.
I could not deal. I was edging into a panic attack and retreated. Just before the hair fixing, MS asked if I wanted a glass of wine as Dude was uncorking and I just said "Well, I guess if I'm not going to see my girl in her dress tonight, I'm headed out," and I hugged Mini and told her I loved her and went on my way.
It wasn't a huge deal to her (she said), but it was to me. I wanted to see her in all regalia. But Dude freaked me out. And maybe he shouldn't have. But he did. And I left.
It's all good; Mini understands why I left (she's not a fan of his constant presence). But I still feel terrible about it. And I can't make that up to her.
Some days are bad. Homecoming was one of those days.
To clarify: I didn't think she should have gone. Mini hadn't completed one of her online class assignments. This wasn't an arbitrary thing or a missing of an assignment or two; she was two weeks behind in online lessons. I told MS Mini shouldn't go (she's been warned). And MS said she could go anyway.
So conflict enough, I told her I'd come over to see her before heading to the music festival. And when I got there, to the house we lived in together, Dude was there. No warning; I guess I should've expected it. And when I got there, Mini was getting her hair set. And there was Dude. And MS said she was going to do Mini's hair in the bathroom.
There I was: my daughter getting her hair done in the bathroom, Dude hanging out, and Mini at least 45 minutes from getting in her dress. Staying would mean making smalltalk with Dude for about 45 minutes. And as Mini was walking to the bathroom, I was bordering on a panic attack. So I hugged her, told her I loved her, and left for the show. I didn't give a shit about the show in position to seeing her in her dress, but it meant small-talking with her boyfirned.
Right or wrong, I left.
I could not deal. I was edging into a panic attack and retreated. Just before the hair fixing, MS asked if I wanted a glass of wine as Dude was uncorking and I just said "Well, I guess if I'm not going to see my girl in her dress tonight, I'm headed out," and I hugged Mini and told her I loved her and went on my way.
It wasn't a huge deal to her (she said), but it was to me. I wanted to see her in all regalia. But Dude freaked me out. And maybe he shouldn't have. But he did. And I left.
It's all good; Mini understands why I left (she's not a fan of his constant presence). But I still feel terrible about it. And I can't make that up to her.
Some days are bad. Homecoming was one of those days.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Moving in and Collapsing
As opposed to my last post, I am no longer numb. Today I moved into my new apartment and I am fragile, a welling bubble of emotion that is contained by a thin, cracking glass dome.
And I know by typing this, I will shatter. It will be brief and I will pull it together, but I need to get this out of me right now.
So today we moved me. MS was there, along with my folks and my daughter, her boyfriend and bestie. And it went on without a hitch. I had to scramble for a van, but we were done moving in about three hours.
After that, my folks stuck around and we went to Target and they helped me along ridiculously kindly, tossing in a huge heap of what I needed as a new startup like I was an 18-year-old moving out for the first time.
What struck me was that the move - even with the scramble to find a truck and the picking up of my daughter's boyfriend and the physical exhaustion of up an down and stairs - was actually way easier than my parents taking me shopping (they wanted to put in on my new couch but I'd already bought it, so they offered a necessities trip to Target instead).
At first I figured my thoughts and feelings of borderline breaking down in the middle of Target were just me be being worn: all the physical and emotional exhaustion after moving out of my own house. But I think it was something more.
If you do moving right, it's procedural, systematic. And in my case, it's just moving my stuff from one place to another locally: load up, drive, load out. There is comfort in comfortable things, even if it's just something in a box you can't even identify without opening it, and with something like a bed, it's a swaddling wonder of ease in familiar.
But shopping, shopping after a split sucks; you're just shopping, sure, but you're buying all these items that you need to restart your life - a spatula, pots, and condiments and Swiffers, all these items that remind you with every pickup that it's gone. Forever. You are picking up pieces that have been lost, rebuilding something built and now missing, a structure with half its bricks missing.
And somehow I just wrote that and didn't lose it, though I've been on the cusp all day. Perhaps I passed it buy like on a carousel and I'll be back. Perhaps I'm just too tired to deconstruct tonight. Or, perhaps, the simple act of writing this depressurized the dome.
I still expect it and will for months and know it will happen more than once, but I think for tonight I'm okay to grab a beer and put on Netflix and breathe.
Always: breathe.
And I know by typing this, I will shatter. It will be brief and I will pull it together, but I need to get this out of me right now.
So today we moved me. MS was there, along with my folks and my daughter, her boyfriend and bestie. And it went on without a hitch. I had to scramble for a van, but we were done moving in about three hours.
After that, my folks stuck around and we went to Target and they helped me along ridiculously kindly, tossing in a huge heap of what I needed as a new startup like I was an 18-year-old moving out for the first time.
What struck me was that the move - even with the scramble to find a truck and the picking up of my daughter's boyfriend and the physical exhaustion of up an down and stairs - was actually way easier than my parents taking me shopping (they wanted to put in on my new couch but I'd already bought it, so they offered a necessities trip to Target instead).
At first I figured my thoughts and feelings of borderline breaking down in the middle of Target were just me be being worn: all the physical and emotional exhaustion after moving out of my own house. But I think it was something more.
If you do moving right, it's procedural, systematic. And in my case, it's just moving my stuff from one place to another locally: load up, drive, load out. There is comfort in comfortable things, even if it's just something in a box you can't even identify without opening it, and with something like a bed, it's a swaddling wonder of ease in familiar.
But shopping, shopping after a split sucks; you're just shopping, sure, but you're buying all these items that you need to restart your life - a spatula, pots, and condiments and Swiffers, all these items that remind you with every pickup that it's gone. Forever. You are picking up pieces that have been lost, rebuilding something built and now missing, a structure with half its bricks missing.
And somehow I just wrote that and didn't lose it, though I've been on the cusp all day. Perhaps I passed it buy like on a carousel and I'll be back. Perhaps I'm just too tired to deconstruct tonight. Or, perhaps, the simple act of writing this depressurized the dome.
I still expect it and will for months and know it will happen more than once, but I think for tonight I'm okay to grab a beer and put on Netflix and breathe.
Always: breathe.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Side Effects: Today Was Rough by Proxy
I don't mean bad like the whole day was a mess. I had a lot of good things happen at work today, nothing really bad happened. Overall, it was a good day.
But my emotional state makes it difficult in unexpected ways. It's like being prone to acid reflux, or a volcano building pressure. I no longer even need anything from the divorce to hit me; just about anything connected-ly emotional can be enough to corkscrew through that thinner, softer layer.
Today I was going to the grocery store and I heard a story on NPR about a fantastic program training the military on how to recognize and rally behind anyone showing symptoms of depression or - worst case - suicide. I've had my own struggle with depression and suicide over a decade ago (and generally feel pretty good about it on a daily basis), but that was today's drilling tool and I just broke down there in the car for about five minutes. Hell, I'm tearing up now.
And then I gathered myself and went into the store and every aisle was a chore, every item a test. I had to hold so hard to pull back the emotion, but I was hair trigger (turn a corner to have both paths blocked? why not drop a few tears?).
But I made it out without what I would consider a scene.
It's the side effects, the little things as I said the other day. If the BIG thing is looming today, everything else is going to be a challenge.
But better for having gone through it, I suppose. Tomorrow I get my keys. Excited and scared, of course.
Relevant from Armageddon:
But my emotional state makes it difficult in unexpected ways. It's like being prone to acid reflux, or a volcano building pressure. I no longer even need anything from the divorce to hit me; just about anything connected-ly emotional can be enough to corkscrew through that thinner, softer layer.
Today I was going to the grocery store and I heard a story on NPR about a fantastic program training the military on how to recognize and rally behind anyone showing symptoms of depression or - worst case - suicide. I've had my own struggle with depression and suicide over a decade ago (and generally feel pretty good about it on a daily basis), but that was today's drilling tool and I just broke down there in the car for about five minutes. Hell, I'm tearing up now.
And then I gathered myself and went into the store and every aisle was a chore, every item a test. I had to hold so hard to pull back the emotion, but I was hair trigger (turn a corner to have both paths blocked? why not drop a few tears?).
But I made it out without what I would consider a scene.
It's the side effects, the little things as I said the other day. If the BIG thing is looming today, everything else is going to be a challenge.
But better for having gone through it, I suppose. Tomorrow I get my keys. Excited and scared, of course.
Relevant from Armageddon:
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
The Little Stuff is the Hardest
I've got a list of dozens of things I'll be taking that MS and I have agreed upon.
I made it through the splitting of books and movies without a hitch.
But two weeks ago when I went to fill out the papers to apply for the apartment (even that was fine), I spent the afternoon tooling around my new neighborhood. I felt like a zombie, not sure how to process it. I wandered into Target and bought some needed socks (did you know they make short dark socks?). I purchased a game I didn't need from GameStop just because. I was numb.
And then I wandered around the grocery store just up the road. "This is my Kroger. There are many like it, but this one is mine." I didn't even know why I was there. "Well, I'll have to learn a new layout. Okay, I'll see what their beer selection is like." And as I walked to the checkout with a previously-undiscovered IPA, it hit me: we share a Kroger card; I need a new one.
And my stomach turned inside out as I asked Customer Service for the new cards and form. The woman handed them over like an afterthought and I felt so, so alone. "I'm getting divorced!" I wanted to scream. "I'm ending a relationship that's taken almost thirteen years of my life!"
But the shitty music continued, no one paused to consider me. So I self-checked out and walked back to my car.
It's the little things that burn most, maybe because they're little, maybe because they're too small to be in the big picture plan and when they crop up you're not only so harshly reminded how integrated your lives have been, but disappointed that you didn't see it in the first place.
But the good news is that, right after my almost-meltdown, I walked back to my car, and I felt a little more relieved, a little more complete, a little more in control of the chaos that currently surrounds me.
I guess that's how most of the little things will go: the harsh bit of realization, the adjustment, and the resulting comprehension of success and control. Even if it's little, it's one more step in the right direction. Even if it hurts. Or perhaps, especially if it hurts.
I made it through the splitting of books and movies without a hitch.
But two weeks ago when I went to fill out the papers to apply for the apartment (even that was fine), I spent the afternoon tooling around my new neighborhood. I felt like a zombie, not sure how to process it. I wandered into Target and bought some needed socks (did you know they make short dark socks?). I purchased a game I didn't need from GameStop just because. I was numb.
And then I wandered around the grocery store just up the road. "This is my Kroger. There are many like it, but this one is mine." I didn't even know why I was there. "Well, I'll have to learn a new layout. Okay, I'll see what their beer selection is like." And as I walked to the checkout with a previously-undiscovered IPA, it hit me: we share a Kroger card; I need a new one.
And my stomach turned inside out as I asked Customer Service for the new cards and form. The woman handed them over like an afterthought and I felt so, so alone. "I'm getting divorced!" I wanted to scream. "I'm ending a relationship that's taken almost thirteen years of my life!"
But the shitty music continued, no one paused to consider me. So I self-checked out and walked back to my car.
It's the little things that burn most, maybe because they're little, maybe because they're too small to be in the big picture plan and when they crop up you're not only so harshly reminded how integrated your lives have been, but disappointed that you didn't see it in the first place.
But the good news is that, right after my almost-meltdown, I walked back to my car, and I felt a little more relieved, a little more complete, a little more in control of the chaos that currently surrounds me.
I guess that's how most of the little things will go: the harsh bit of realization, the adjustment, and the resulting comprehension of success and control. Even if it's little, it's one more step in the right direction. Even if it hurts. Or perhaps, especially if it hurts.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Where Are We Now?
As I begin this long-needed blog, I find myself still living with MS and LadyShambles in the house we've shared for six years now.
HOUSING
I don't make as much as MS, and not nearly enough to pay the mortgage and all the bills, so I'm the moving party. I've been researching and looking for about a month and got the confirmation last week that I was cleared for a new place only 15 minutes away. LadyShambles will be spending half her time with me, so she toured with me and approved the apartment. I get the keys 6/21, move in 6/29.
We'll split any profit minus receipts when she sells.
FINANCES
In progress, but we've wiped out almost all of our debt and are splitting pretty clean.
DISSOLUTIONMENT
We've a non-representative friend who is writing up the paperwork. We'll be filing with the courts in the next month.
EMOTION
Some days I feel like I can conquer the world despite all that's happening, that I am awesome incarnate and this is but a stepping stone on my new path towards the future. Other days I collapse into a ball of tears because I get stopped at some light and that was the road I drove for the first time to get up to Cinci and return to my wife after absence and a move.
Today's somewhere in between.
HOUSING
I don't make as much as MS, and not nearly enough to pay the mortgage and all the bills, so I'm the moving party. I've been researching and looking for about a month and got the confirmation last week that I was cleared for a new place only 15 minutes away. LadyShambles will be spending half her time with me, so she toured with me and approved the apartment. I get the keys 6/21, move in 6/29.
We'll split any profit minus receipts when she sells.
FINANCES
In progress, but we've wiped out almost all of our debt and are splitting pretty clean.
DISSOLUTIONMENT
We've a non-representative friend who is writing up the paperwork. We'll be filing with the courts in the next month.
EMOTION
Some days I feel like I can conquer the world despite all that's happening, that I am awesome incarnate and this is but a stepping stone on my new path towards the future. Other days I collapse into a ball of tears because I get stopped at some light and that was the road I drove for the first time to get up to Cinci and return to my wife after absence and a move.
Today's somewhere in between.
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