Friday Sissy had given me the entire day off for some much-needed R & R. Kimi and I went up to Silver Star mountain in eastern Clark County. We had a fabulous time together, saw some spectacular scenery and took photos that are quite frameable. It was a memorable day trip, one that I'll always remember. We look forward to more trips, and later this spring, some day hikes. Our day ended with dinner at an old favorite pizza place from her childhood and a sleepover at her place. It was a blast!
Unfortunately, when I went to bed I was visited by an old acquaintance: depression. I have no idea how it popped up, or from where it came, but as I was lying in bed listening to distant traffic sounds I suddenly found myself intensely missing Rob. I even said out loud to the darkness 'I love you so much, babe' just to remember what it sounded like. The night was very, very long; I listened to the clock downstairs strike two, then three, then four a.m. before finally drifting off to sleep.
I'm no psychologist, but something in my pea brain tells me this event is somehow related to the fact that the delightful day with my daughter was just hours from being over ::warm ocean beach:: and that when the sun rose I would be leaving her ::trip's over...time to go back:: and returning to work. Saying goodbye to my mini vacation; my precious time with my best friend in the whole world ::saying goodbye, going back, say goodbye, tracy, don't cry now::
Not surprisingly, later that afternoon I had another bout of long-buried memories, this time very detailed visions of the warm, sunny day Rob and I drove around Ogden shopping for new bathroom appliances: ceramic sinks, tile, brushed antique fixtures, followed by cheeseburgers at our favorite burger joint...
Where did this come from? I thought this nonsense was over??!? I suppose a strongly worded letter to God is in order! Seriously, maybe I should attribute it to all the craziness at home right now as well as the fact that my pharmaceutical strategy is being tweaked: tapering off Prozac and starting something new called Lamictral. Honestly, I suppose I'd gladly exchange setbacks like this for final healing!
As far as the outlook for my future, I'm still in a holding pattern as to what to do with my life! Two weeks ago I met a delightful Medical Assistant named Tracy and she seriously talked me into going to MA school; said I would not regret it one bit. After talking with her I made the decision that that was exactly what I would do. Go to MA school: it's one year plus a few classes this spring and summer. I remained positive about my decision until two days ago, when I had a no-holes-barred conversation with Rob about money, health insurance, and filing divorce papers. It was difficult and painful conversation, but very necessary. He said that considering my family circumstances, he'll continue to give me a support check every week for three more months, then he will stop. Legally he doesn't have to give me any support at all; our prenuptial agreement protects him from that. He has offered to give me this money. It is generous of him and has been much, much appreciated.
We decided when the support ends in three months he will have to pay me the money he owes me in full, which is mostly repayment of my portion of the down payment on our home in Olympia. (This is the money I've been planning to live on while attending school). We further agreed that we have no reason to rush filing our divorce papers for the simple reason that while we're married he can keep me on his health insurance plan. It doesn't cost him anything to do this, and I've made it clear to him that without insurance I'll be in deep trouble, with my joint problems.
After our conversation however, I began to think about whether it's detrimental to my emotional healing to stay legally married to Rob. This is a man who left me on the side of a highway four months ago, never to see me again. The same man who screens my phone calls, refusing to talk to me. (This last conversation happened only because I called him from my aunt's phone with a California number.) The same man who refused to read the biblically principled letter I carefully and prayerfully composed, apologizing for my role in the demise of our marriage and asking for forgiveness.
Now I'm going back and forth on whether to accept staying legally married to a man who not only doesn't love me, but apparently doesn't even like me, to stay insured; or to give up my dream of going to school and taking a job with medical benefits, and putting an end to this miserable chapter of my life. There will be more contemplating, considering, and praying on this important decision, but time is running short. Spring classes begin in three weeks.
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