Saturday, April 30, 2011

breaking down the wall

I haven't written in a month and a day.
I've been taking it easy after the hospital. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized shit is not worth my life. My life continues to be a roller coaster yet I can handle it.
It amazes me how I'm letting stress role off my shoulders. Work got very very icky for a while there... there was a dangerous incident at work that ended badly (not as badly as it could have). The bad part was I found out who's got my back at work, and who doesn't. Said person is applying for the managerial job. If she becomes my boss I'll be walking.

It's been a month of realizing how far I've come even though I have no idea where I'm going. La femme was going to move in. Then we were going to just down size. Well, now I'm downsizing. I've made a decision to sell: I am having to pack up my house. It's a nightmare decision but one person in a 3-bedroom house (on 3 stories) is a lot of work. One person in heart failure, that's too much. I was taking the yard waste back to the shed this morning after doing some front yard work, asking myself what the hell I was doing. I can't be carrying this stuff. Nor can I carry it to the curb on garbage days. I can't live here anymore. I've been fighting this decisions for over a year, buying more time with room rentals but even that is getting so taxing. So now, I think I'm almost ready to pack up my life/house into a one-bedroom apt. My health, my sanity, my safety and security is worth more than any piece of property with potential.

So down to the basement I went and started (at my own pace) tearing down my wall. (My ex built a faux-wall for me years ago during our second separation when she moved out and I rented all the upstairs rooms to make ends meet.) Well now it's coming down. Me, a hammer, anger. Only problem is I don't have that much anger anymore. Perhaps I should have torn it down 10 months ago. Even now I'm not angry, just hurt. That elusive search for a lifelong partnership is tiring. As I whined a year ago, I felt that in the end I would end up alone. I am comforted by the 'fact' that I didn't actually do anything all that wrong, that my recovery is not for nothing. I have and am changing. In the end, I have me, and that's more than I had last year.