ManicRobThrill

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Left from center

The problem I've been experiencing is the alternates of sides and cycles. One half of me is filled with anger, pain and sadness. The other half is filled with happiness, trepidation, laughter and hesitancy. The two are running parallel with one another. I'll attempt to explain.

One part of your life is over; you end a long-term relationship and try to begin the healing/moving on process. There is no such thing as ease when it happens; try as you might, if you have any kind of soul or sense of feelings, there are going to be emotional torrents. In my case, it's not the break-up of a girlfriend but the end of an actual marriage. Simply put, it isn't as cut-and-dried as one would hope. I invested years, time, belief, faith--in short, everything I had. And she single-handedly (or actually, in the second instance, had a willing accomplice) wiped all of it out.

Yet, an understanding hand and eyes that see you as you are give you hope. I do have that at this moment. I've been in an emotional void for the last two years. I don't think I'm wrong in savoring the warmth of someone who cares about me. I've been alone in a loveless marriage long enough. So I can take solace in the fact that there is someone for me who is real.

The alternates and currents run concurrent with one another and the clashes just continue. But this a process and this is adult life, whether I asked for it or not.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Summertime blues

First day of the summer solstice; what a way to begin. Someone I love is hospitalized with a serious-enough-for-surgery problem; worry has permeated every corner of my mind, even though she's already on the mend. I'm tired; sluggish--yesterday's first Father's Day without my father was a little rocky. I'd say the last 72 hours have been something of an emotional spin-cycle.

Fortunately, I did have some time on Saturday to work on music, which by all definitions, went well. The first brand-new song in a while, "She Is The Light", came to completion and I'm not surprised, as I'd been feeling (oddly enough) inspired. Considering I should be writing things in the vein of "Your Dictionary" (a masterpiece--thank you, Mr. Partridge), I opted to write something real; something personal. You'll have to wait until it's recorded, so sit down and shut up.

I don't know--being words-y now is something a bit alien to me. It's been a quieter time. While I can't see it as bad, it is interesting.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Splinters

There comes a point when something no longer works. A radio; a car; the human body. And sometimes relationships don't work. The idea of divorce is something loathsome to me and yet, I find myself saying aloud the words I never wanted to speak: "I want a divorce"--and I am getting one. Liz and I are now officially separated--this was my call and my emphatic decision. It is never easy going public with these kinds of revelations; you are under scrutiny from that moment forward--you start to feel someone wants to say "you are a failure". You don't want that scar; that blight upon you. I never wanted to be like everyone else--or so it seems. And yet, most of my friends, who are of my age are divorced or getting divorced and it's unsettling.

To a great extent, I think that's part of the reason why I stayed much longer than I should have in this marriage. You may hit a rough patch, but then you're supposed to work it out. You don't just give up with a shrug of the shoulders. If I had done that, it would be an admittance of defeat. But then, how long do you stay when you've already reached the endpoint of unhappiness? A divorce is a badge of dishonor, but it's also a saving grace when you can't feel anything for that person you once thought you felt something for. Sometimes you have to say "I've fought the good fight, but I can't fight anymore; I don't believe it's worth fighting for any longer".

It's very sad, if there's one emotion I can ascribe to this. But I came to the decision and I'm acting on it. Someone had to stand up and say this is no good. It's one thing to leave a band; it's one thing to leave a job--even to leave a career behind. But it is not easy to leave a marriage. I'd been married to Liz for 11-plus years. I couldn't see being married to her for even one more. It had to end. Lies, distrust, distance, coldness--all of it poisoned the relationship. And in trying to keep a grasp on knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, I wound up doing and saying all the things I didn't want to. I do apologize; I'm human. I'm angry and frustrated and tired of having been seen as an idiot for putting up with an empty performance for the last two years. Without going into too much detail I will divulge this: the final straw was her not being home with me the night my father died. I cannot nor will I ever forgive it.

At least I've made the necessary leaps forward of acceptance that I am now, albeit not legally yet, an "ex-husband". I've changed my will, etc.; I've removed her name wherever it may have been aligned with me, etc. She is an "ex-wife". We do not have children; our money has always been separate and we can now turn and walk away. I had a life before she came along; I am already finding the path to my own again and so far, it has been very sweet and enlightened. That isn't to say that we didn't have some happy moments; we did. It just wasn't meant to be any more than it was.

It's been a turbulent time, there's no question of that. In the same week of my father's passing came the end of my marriage and now maybe the rest of things will be more harmonious and joyful.

I would like to not be embittered by all this; I think the bitterness has already been digested over the last two years.

Friday, June 04, 2010

Junebug

Heat. Already at points oppressive. Keeps my mind from being as creative as I had been. Nontheless, the oncoming weekend points to the possibility of getting back on track with the album. That and seeing friends. Being sociable is like re-learning how to ride a bike.

Little things like the upkeep of this blog makes me think, process and write--it's a joyful balance.