Change

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
Anatole France


I have thought a lot about change, recently.  The necessity of it, for sake of sanity and survival. 

I think I've stayed stationary for too long.  No, I KNOW I have.  We moved a lot when I was a child...3 schools in 2 different states during my 4th grade year alone.  I have had the wanderlust since I was small.  It's what lead me to very rashly leave Minnesota and move to Texas in the first place.  I never dreamed that I would still be HERE 13 years later....

"We must die to one life before we can enter another."

I was happy when I was traveling as a nurse.  I lost 50lbs.  I rediscovered my sense of humor, my independence.  My best friend said it was like the real me finally came alive again.  Friends tell me that they would hate moving every 3 months.  I think it suited me perfectly. 

My last contract was awful.  I left it early, and I returned to Texas.  I returned to my old life, but it seemed different.  Better.  DH was making an effort, a real effort it seemed.  Agreeing to move somewhere other than Tyler after his graduation.  I had a job I loved, and things were going so amazingly well.  I was utterly blissed out.  I should always know better.  Every single time I feel truly happy in my life, fate or God or whatever kicks me in the face.  This kick was delivered via letter.

"We must die to one life before we can enter another." 

I killed my minnesotan life to move here and start a new life with a man I loved.  Who lied to me from the start, but my self conscious 19 year old self forgave and believed "never again."  My 19 year old self who had never been noticed by boys, so desperate for "love" that I forgave cheating immedately.  My Daddy raised me to never have to rely on anyone.  It was important to him that I be self sufficient, independent, strong.  I have failed utterly in that regard.

"We must die to one life before we can enter another."

That letter...felt like death.  It very effectively killed me that day, some part of me deep inside withered away.  My trust?  Possibly.  April 11th - letter arrives, April 15th - divorce is filed.  A week later, I'm agreeing to try and "work it out" and "accept this".  One part of me is screaming at me to run, and run fast, and the other part is speaking softly and coercively.  Sure...you can't ACTUALLY have a child...but now, there is one....

The devil is in the details, and temptation is a bitch. 

In the months of my "trying", my depression got a firm hold on me.  I haven't had a REAL problem with depression since high school.  I wanted to leave.  I didn't WANT to work this out.  I didn't WANT to accept another woman's child.  But, some part of me made me try.  Because, I didn't want to hurt HIM by leaving.  So ridiculous.  And in those months, I came face to face with the blackest part of me.  In those dark months, I actually considered taking "We must die to one life to enter another" literally. 

The thoughts were fleeting.  Transparent, like a ghost.  Obviously, I didn't do anything.  Not that I would have, not because I value MY life so much....but it would harm my father beyond repair.  I actively loathe myself.  I truly feel as if I am not worthy of anything, anyone.  I feel disgusting, and would be perfectly content for no one to see me.  I put on a shiny, happy face.  I crack jokes, and make others laugh.  I miss laughing. 

No one knew.  I really don't think anyone knew that I was so close to that edge.  No one ever approached me, reached out to me in concern.  So, I am HOPING no one knew....because the alternative, they knew and didn't care, is too painful to consider. 

But, somewhere in those dark moments, my spine returned, shining bright white in the darkness.  I told him I could NOT accept this.  I chose to leave and find my happiness, than stay and drown in my sorrow.  I am leaving, as soon as it's feasible.  I am leaving Texas (and while I have friends here, I cannot wait to see this place in my rearview).  I will travel again.  I will give in to the wanderlust and be as nomadic as my OCD self can be. 

"For what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves.." 

I am leaving the weak part behind.  Discarded like an old skin.  I will rediscover that independent person that was almost formed when I left home.  I will be happy.