Mood:

One thing I just realized as I run through all the stuff I’m going to need to do from here:

I’ve never lived alone before.

I lived with my parents, then moved out with Merrick and Joe near Cultus lake, then in with Ruth, then back in with Merrick at The Mopester’s, then in with Mellissa. I’ve never come home to an empty house every day.

It’s a daunting prospect. I’m currently living with Anthony, but it will be temporary.

Yikes!

Mood:

One thing I’m able to do is adjust my point of view during times of great emotional stress. When I told Mellissa I wasn’t interested in marriage or children after our relationship got serious she told me our time together would be limited because she wanted the opposite. I reevaluated my life within the space of a week and proposed shortly thereafter. When she told me last month that I had to leave because of my anger I did a 180 on my attitude and have become the father I never expected I could be. Now that I have been forced to accept my impending divorce I have once again adjusted my point of view.

I was fooling myself. Mellissa had moved on emotionally months ago but I’m the fixer — I see a problem and I have to fix it. I convinced myself that I could fix my relationship with my kids and our marriage. I see now that I can only do the former. There were things I could have done to keep this from happening, but Mellissa also told me that she suspects she only married me to have kids, so this might have happened anyway.

I was angry at first, but I realized this morning that I wasn’t angry at her. She made up the trial separation in order to preserve my peace of mind and not send me spiraling into despair. Now that I’m happier with myself and my relationship my Geoffrey and Emily I can properly handle our breakup. I told Mellissa last night that being in love was an illusion in an attempt to change her mind, and I meant it. This morning my illusion was gone. I still like her…I still love her…but I’m not in love with her anymore.

I’m still going to have some trouble dealing with when she gets a new boyfriend, but in the meantime we’re still friends. We still finish each other’s sentences sometimes, or arrive at the same idea concurrently.

Maybe she’ll set me up with one of her girlfriends. She has inside information on my sexual prowess after all…

Mood:

Last night Mellissa’s brother Stephen told me that Geoffrey had come out to the back room crying the previous night, and when asked what was wrong he said he missed me. This was of course upsetting to me so I mentioned to Mellissa this afternoon that we shouldn’t carry this separation on too long past the three months, for the kids’ sake. She agreed and went off to her D&D session.

When she got back we discussed it more. She told me that she doesn’t see us ever getting back together, and the great strides I’ve made with the children have made no difference toward that, though she’s happy that I’m getting help. She’s no longer in love with me and will never be again, though she still likes and loves me.

The woman I married had forgiveness in her heart. She would never have considered breaking her marriage vows. She wouldn’t have put her needs before her children’s. I was looking forward to showing her what kind of husband I could be. I was even thinking about asking her to marry me again, as she loves weddings. I was going to support her idea of applying to become a surrogate mother, as she loves being pregnant and has easy pregnancies and deliveries. However, the possibility of finding someone else that she can have more children with is more attractive than the reality of her marriage.

That she is not behaving like the woman I fell in love with makes this easier. Her membership in the SCA definitely changed her views on marriage and love, especially since several of her friends are divorced, separated, and/or polyamorous, and seem to trade relationship partners like hockey cards. I didn’t treat her like a queen, and in the SCA every man does. It’s empowered her and has contributed to the destruction of our marriage, as a “mundane” husband simply can’t compete.

I’m not blaming the SCA, though. I contributed to this end with my depressive, angry and ambivalent impulses. The SCA just became the juxtaposition to an unhappy home life. She had fun at SCA events without her husband, and no fun at home with her husband. Simple psychology.

I will continue to be the best father to my children that I can, given the circumstances. However, I can’t just turn off my heart. When Mellissa gets a new boyfriend I will not handle it well and will have to go away. Hopefully the kids won’t mind coming to visit me from then on.

Mood:

“An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered; an adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.” — G. K. Chesterton

I used the term “adventure” in a letter to my wife just last week. Guess I’m on the right track!

Mood:

Mellissa has agreed to a three-month trial separation and we will see where we are then. No promises. I am so relieved, as some chance to preserve our marriage and prevent a broken home is infinitely better than no chance at all. I’ll be working my ass off to get back to the “me” I left behind when I was laid off right before Geoffrey was born, before I got clinically depressed, sullen and angry from a year’s forced unemployment and never really came back from it.

I’ve been spending as much time involved with the kids’ activities as possible when I’m home. They are so bright and intelligent, and I have no idea how I could have considered them a distraction from something more important. I’ve read online that too much computer use can cause depression, and I think that definitely has something to do with the miasma I’d been trapped in.

I mentioned to Mellissa yesterday that I had dug myself into a hole so deep that I couldn’t even tell I was in a hole. Now I feel happy, like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders, even though we’re facing the greatest threat to our marriage to date. I’m focused and confident.

I was sitting with the kids a couple days ago, watching them playing, and thought how nice it was. Then I realized that is probably the way that Mellissa feels all the time. It’s nice.

Mood:

If you haven’t read my last post from a couple days ago, it’s best to do that now and come back. I’ll wait…

Not many people know that I a have a short temper with my kids; mostly my almost-2-years-old daughter. Sunday night, after a lot of introspection resulting from Saturday night’s revelation, I figured out where that anger comes from:

When I was 10, during the summer, I was babysat by a stay-at-home mom who had a kid a little younger than Emily. I remember his name: Paul. I would play games with Paul while she would make lunch or do the laundry or vacuum the rug. One day I decided to show Paul how much fun it was to spin around, so I stood him up, took his hands and started to spin. I got a good speed going and he was laughing…

…and then he slipped out of my grasp. He flew across the room and stopped hard with his head and neck wedged under the rocking chair base. There was what writers call a “pregnant pause” and then he started to scream. When his mom came in she thought he had fallen from the chair or tripped or something. Paul wasn’t yet old enough to tell her what happened. I said nothing.

I don’t remember much more about that time. I think that was near the end of summer and I went back to school soon after. I don’t know if the hit on the head ever had a lasting effect on Paul. I know that kids are pretty resilient, but he hit so hard. I’ve been carrying this guilt around with me for a long time.

Then I had kids of my own. I think because of what happened so long ago I’m ultra-vigilant around them, trying to make sure they don’t hurt themselves. I accidentally hurt a little boy because I was trying to have fun with him, so I’m too serious with my own children. If they do something foolhardy because they don’t know any better and hurt themselves then I just go ballistic. It’s the crying; I can’t handle that sound, and my brain short-circuits. That, combined with other issues that have been building up since I lost my job just after Geoffrey was born, has really changed who I am.

Now that I’ve made this realization I think I can catch myself before blowing up, but I’m going to see the doctor about treating generalized anxiety disorder. I still have to leave; I just hope I can salvage my family’s respect, and love.

Mood:

I’d noticed my wife had been distant toward me for several months. I’d give her a kiss or hug and not get any reciprocation. I even had a dream that she was having an affair, which left me angry and depressed.

Last night I finally asked her about it, and she’s had enough. I can’t control my temper around the kids. I’m on a short fuse all the time. She still loves me, but the kids need a nurturing father, and I’m not it. We’d spoken about this before and I promised to get better, and though she noticed an improvement, it wasn’t enough.

I’d never hurt my family, but emotional abuse is still abuse. Geoffrey was asked at preschool to draw his family and I was nowhere in the picture. I’m either apathetic or angry most of the time at home, and Mellissa can’t take pretending to be happy for the kids anymore.

Long story short, anybody looking for a roommate?

Mood:

There are 3 people in this house who are still wrapping presents and IT’S CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON! The kids are being extraordinarily patient considering they got up 3 hours ago and only got to open one present each so far, and their stockings are still sitting untouched by the fireplace, but COME ON!

Mood:

Last night Emily sat down on her little plastic potty that we got out in preparation for training, then let out a loud fart. A little later she sat back down on it and did it again.

She obviously knows what to do on it, so guess she’s ready. 18 months is usually about the earliest kids show interest. I seem to recall Geoffrey not showing much interest until he got closer to 2 years old, and then we had to kind of force the issue.

Mood:

Last weekend we took the van (GMC Safari) in to have the horn fixed, only to be told the vehicle’s not safe and to get it off the road. It seems that whoever fixed it after its original accident used some questionable methods, such as welding a part that should have been bolted on, so it’s ready to go. Also, the brakes had about a week’s life left to them. Given that the mechanic didn’t even want to try to repair it tells us this vehicle’s at the end of its life.

We paid $1500 for it, so 2 years for that’s not bad. We’re just a bit freaked out that it was in such a poor state for so long and we’ve been driving the kids around in it.

We’ll be heading to Kia in Abbotsford (hey look Joe, they actually made their web site look professional!) to investigate the Sedona, which has the best crash test safety rating. Hopefully they’ll take the old van as a down payment and the monthlies aren’t too much.