Link to last page of previous thread is Miriam's previous thread

Picking up the thread -

April - finally get taxes straightened out, the most difficult way possible of course - he wouldn't use my accountant, so I used his, who turned out to be hers, who turned out to be incompetent, so I spent 3 hours in her office straightening taxes out...etc. Done. BUT - I thought for sure it would be the last time we'd file as H & W. WRONG.

May - Consulting both corporate and divorce attorneys decided to wait on filing corporate lawsuit against him for breach of fiduciary duty. For one thing, the damages continued to pile up. For another, didn't want to confuse the cases insofar as the impact of their outcomes (or potential outcomes) to yours truly.

Sent a letter to WH asking for a meeting. I wanted closure. He declined. So I followed up asking if he was certain he definitely wanted the divorce, and advising him that the financial fallout was going to be substantial (for him, too). He said he did. I called my attorney and asked for a court date - which was set for July. So much for that (I thought). WRONG.... (are ya' seeing a pattern yet???)

Also - hired a headhunter to start looking for a job, nationwide. Totally anticipated company to go under by mid-summer as I was living without a salary and had bare minimum in contracts.

June - got a nibble from a company back in the old WH/OW town. Still swinging back and forth emotionally but beginning to feel a little better on most days. Started laying the groundwork to shut down the company.

July - got a second interview with the company in the "home town". Called my attorney - he recommended that I hold off on court date because I might in fact want to retake posession of the house and land if I was moving back into town - and besides we didn't know much about what my financial status was going to be yet so finishing up the divorce might be premature. I agreed so we filed a postponement (over objections of WH.)

THEN, I crashed.

I really really really really wanted to be done by that point. I was taking steps to shut down the company. I was preparing to move (wherever). I was also in the midst of an anniversary reaction ("Discovery Day" was July 8/9 the previous year), my mother was very ill, finances were a strain.

Suicidal. Really really really suicidal; impulses that I couldn't talk my way out of. Complete withdrawal; stopped eating and sleeping except for a few nibbles and a couple of hours each night. So depressed my 86-year old ill mother could tell over the phone and begged me to see my doc. I made out a will (bad news) and made arrangements for one of the kids to be able to get into the storage locker where 97% of all my earthly belongings are.

It got so bad that I sat one night after another for a total of 3 with a loaded gun on my lap. Not always on my lap, either - I picked it up a couple of times each night and on the last of those "tasted steel".

The ONLY thing keeping me from pulling the trigger was the thought of what it would do to the kids and to my best friend of 38 years, whose mother had also shot and killed herself.

So, the next day I saw the doc. Couldn't stop crying. With my history (cyclical depression since the age of 13) he wanted to hospitalize me - right call, wrong person. We had a long talk about it - I agreed to outpatient "day care" (you go in the morning, stay all day, leave with company) but couldn't get in.

In the end, we upped the dosage of my anti-depressant and I walked out with a promise to call him by 5 that afternoon. By that time, my brain had kicked in and I finally broke my "wall of silence" and called two close friends plus my roomate (who knew I was depressed but had no idea - terribly unfair to her to be stuck with a suicidal 52 year old upstairs, but managed it - another thing to be grateful for) - and set up a "suicide watch" for 10 days. I was with someone every moment of that time. By day 8 the higher dosage started to kick in, and by Day 10 I was no longer suicidal.

The whole time I knew it was biochemistry - but when it gets that bad, it doesn't matter what you know or don't know.

- I obviously survived, thanks to my mother, my friends and a great doc. And THAT's when I really started to learn.

Back in a second.

Miriam

Miriam, I am so sorry you went through that. We've all been there in some way. I too have felt that I wanted to end the whole thing and cash in my chips. Tell us the rest of the story.

Thanks, Chai.

Dealing with sick kitty - back in a few.

OK.... I have to hit the shower and head out soon for my AA meeting. But I'll be back in a few hours..... to check on ya and will be around all afternoon just cleaning - HOPEFULLY....

OK, back. Love my kitty - has been through divorces, miscarriages, marriages, moves, etc. - is getting old but still a loving soul.

August - Had been doing 12 step groups (Al-Anon, ACOA) since September of '08, had continued all the way through the middle of July and dropped out when I crashed. Started again in August but something was different (me). I wasn't getting what I "needed". Of course, I didn't know what I needed so wasn't sure what to look for or where. Feeling VERY shaky - the close call in July had really rattled me and my faith in my own stability (such as it was). The job search wasn't going well - the company that had interviewed decided not to hire anyone for any of the four slots they had open (fishing trip on their part) - meanwhile the headhunter was telling me that prospects were terrible for my demographic - "could be a year or more". Was still in the process of shutting down the company - had a couple of interactions with WH but again "just the facts" on email where quick decisions were needed re: liquidation issues.

I didn't realize it at first but those interactions had zero emotional power for me.

Zip. Nada. Zero.

Started searching for an alternative to 12-steps. Found "SMART" - a recovery program for alcoholics but has expanded to those who love alcoholics/addicts. Based on Albert Ellis's Rational Emotive Therapy (RET) but also buttressed by lots and lots of research. I'm data driven (and formerly a shrink) so it appealed to me. Found a therapist and did some sessions - about 8 in all.

Meanwhile - and I left this out of the previous - I had begun physical therapy back in April. I have a genetic connective tissue disorder and had been in pretty much constant pain for over two years while I focused on managing my commute and closing on the big 5.5M contract. In short, I had ignored my physical status. But I realized in April that I still had his insurance plan (a very good one) and there was no excuse to take care of myself now. So I started.

It went on for 6 months (I just "graduated" in October). I've had 7 knee reconstructions in 30 years, plus various other surgeries; I've rehabbed knees for years and years in total - and STILL this was one of the most challenging stints I've ever done because it was all connective tissue and arthritis and everything depended on how hard I worked (not that hard work scares me but this time really hurt). By the time I was going full bore - in August - I was up to 3 sessions a week of 4 hours each plus in-between times at home.

But. I didn't have much work anyway. Focusing on me was a change from focusing on dismantling the company. And I was making progress - which I wasn't too sure of anywhere else in my life.

So much so that at the end of August I decided to try something I hadn't done in 30 years - dance in public - and signed up to take dance lessons, which I hadn't done since I was 12. (I'm 52).

Magic.

Is WH still with the OP?

Wow Miriam, you have been through the ringer and sound incredible. Good for you to walk through so much.

Share with us how you feel about yourself today. I'm so glad you are here today to share with us. You touch my heart of pain and sadness, but then I get to look outside right this very minute and see the absolute beauty of G-ds gifts and you are one of those gifts.

Do you know how you are going to be able to touch someone's life and help them one day. You have been, come and continue to walk through so much and yet each day even when you didn't want to, you are up.

It is an honor to read about how far you have come.

(((((Miriam))))),

I am so sorry for all you have walked through....but ever so glad you never gave up on YOU!!!!!

not2fun

Chai -

Yes, WH is still with OP. She's slowly but surely moving into the house, one piece of clothing at a time...no sign of slowing down, at least from point of view of SS (stepson) still living there. He's alcoholic, she drinks right along with him, so I'm assuming this can go on for a long, long time. Wouldn't be surprised one way or the other if he married her.

Wow, thank you Queenie and Not2Fun. What wonderful words, Queenie. I don't see myself that way - I do see you that way, though!

In response to your question about how I feel about myself - I love myself. I cry when I type that because I didn't before but didn't know I didn't. There was so much pain and isolation - done to me, by me. I was very hard on myself. The most wonderful thing about all of this has been to learn about myself - work on me, - and let go because I'm learning to forgive myself.

Forgiving him - while not easy by any means - was easier than learning to forgive ME. WH was _right_ when he said I had pretty much "disappeared" before the affair - he said that with regard to our relationship/marriage I was "there but not there". I thought he just meant all the traveling, but know now that he didn't.

He was absolutely right. I was a terrible marriage partner. Further, he needed support and I was not there for him.

I plan to apologize to him about that during Tuesday night dinner.

I have no fear of him or of anything he might do or say any more. I still love him with all my heart and believe him to be sick (alcohol) but know that I need a safe distance. And that's OK.

Does that answer your question?

Will pick up the "story" in a minute. Sorry about yesterday; sick kitty ended up with a vet visit.

OK, left off at dance lessons.

Gotta go back a couple of months to put dance lessons in context, though. To June 25, to be exact. The day Michael Jackson died.

Other than a sad moment where I wondered if his heart just finally broke and then followed wondering if it was drugs, initially I took very little notice of his death. I was an MJ fan throughout the 80's. I lost track of him and all pop culture through the 90's. I vaguely remember the media insanity (even working on space missions, that couldn't be avoided). I didn't return to his music so had no idea of what he had developed. I did watch as his dancing went from extraordinary to masterful to something-other-than-earthly although eventually I lost track of that, too.

But I didn't ever think about him or listen to his stuff or take note of anything pertaining to him and hadn't for years and years. If you'd asked me on June 25th or 26th I'd have said I was a fan in the 80's, had no opinion about the "validity" of the allegations, thought he was an artistic genius and a deeply troubled person, and had no clue where he was or what he was doing. As a matter of fact, I did say it. End of story.

So it came as a complete shock to me that I became absolutely obsessed, and grief stricken, when he died. Not on June 25. On the 27th, two days later, and not coincidentally, my birthday. Started crying. Could NOT stop. Started listening to "Man in the Mirror". Like, 17 times straight. Stayed home from work to watch the memorial. Cried through it. I knew that something else was going on but I could not for the life of me figure out what. Knew I was sending myself a message but could not hear it. So I kept listening to the music. Watching the dancing. Cried some more. Talked to God. Kept listening.

Spent the next 10 days digging out every performance, every bit of recorded music, and particularly every song-and-dance "live" routine I could find. Was blown away. Cried alot more.

- Here is where I should say that I spent most of my summers between 14 and 20 in summer stock, was the youngest voice student my teacher (nationally known) had ever taken, was a dancer until my knees made it impossible, and ended up in the careers I've been in when forced to walk away from performance by physical disability and the opinion of those "who knew better" that I wouldn't be able to make a living at it.

Fast forward to July/August/September. I lost the thread at the end of July. But once I recovered it, and the will to live, things happened. I said "magic" at the end of the last long post. That's an understatement. Lots of magic happened. Magic that ended up with me finding the only dance shoe "shop" in the country that does orthopedic modification of tap shoes during a casual Google surfing session. (They also custom build most of the shoes for most of the top tap, jazz and modern dancers in the country.) Magic that, through the shoe shop, led me to the woman who is the head of the International Tap Dancing Association and a NEA grant recipient for her work "Souls of Our Feet" (Google it). I wrote her. She responded, then referred me to a dance teacher - one who has had a hip replacement and is now working with orthopedically challenged students. She partners with me but also shows no mercy. She's a professional and still performing. Perfect.

When I started trying to move, I was frightened of injury. I'd been in rehab for 6 months (and am stronger than I have been in 30 years - but this is SO scary). Then, got asked to participate in a "Thrill the World" (Thriller) dance event for charity by someone who barely knew me. Ended up being a lead dancer when I memorized the routine in record time and started working on details/style (I haven't danced in public since 1984).

Then I got the world's worst case of stage fright during a rehearsal and chickened out.

Callled the organizers and said I couldn't do it. Two days later, right in the midst of chickening out, I received a box in the mail, unexpected - and was "gifted" with not one but TWO of MJ's fedoras subsequent to an entirely unrelated conversation where I had offered to do a business case for a charity. (A whole other story.)

Well, I can read "signs" as well as anyone else. Especially by then. So I put me right back in - and we raised a whole bunch of money for Melanoma Aid, too cool. (And no, I didn't wear one of those fedoras. I wore one of my own.)

Magic that happened when I went looking for a voice teacher, learned about a method different from the classical training I had received (which I wanted to get away from). Called an old friend I started musical theater/college with (she went on to win a couple of Tonys) and talked about it - she referred me to a person who turned out to be MJ's vocal coach (had no clue of the connection before I talked to him, I kid you not) who then referred me to someone else I'm now studying with.

It goes on.

So, a friend asked after she heard all this - do you think God is speaking to you through Michael Jackson?

I'm sure that even the question is offensive to some people. Before all this, I'd have thought him an unlikely candidate. And I'd have thought myself an even unlikelier one. And I'd have thought this entire story insane.

But, the answer is yes. Or no. or maybe. It doesn't matter. The way God works, it's all the same thing.

Maybe I was channeling creative/artistic energy abandoned long ago for science and engineering and fastened on MJ because of where I am in my life. Maybe I needed a muse, and he was/is it. Maybe I was going really truly crazy (this was all before the suicide stuff.) Maybe I was searching for meaning in his meaningless death - like the death of my own life and dreams had seemed to be so meaningless.

Eventually, I saw "This is It" - highly recommended if you have even a passing interest in performance, whether you're a "fan" or not - and got my answers. Like reading Tarot cards, or Rorshach inkblots, or tea leaves, or stone tablets, I was reading MJ's talent and untimely death, but it was God's hand on my shoulder. And these were the messages I'd been trying to hear since the end of June, through all the pain and loss and more pain and loss.

(1) LIFE IS TOO SHORT. WHAT WE DO WITH NOW MATTERS. We have the ability to make choices and to change with each and every moment. What a tremendous, what an unbelievable gift from God. I'd forgotten it.

(2) GROWTH AND HEALING AND CREATIVITY TAKE LOTS AND LOTS OF ENERGY AND WORK. All kinds of growth and healing and creativity. Relationships. Parenting. Infidelity, addiction, loss, grief, rebuilding our lives - itself an intrinsically creative process. Lots of work. The process is as much the point as are the outcomes - which are themselves just stops along a road.

(3) NO ONE IS BEYOND REDEMPTION. Not WH. Not OP (oy, that
one hurts). And NOT ME. _I_ cannot judge, nor predict. In fact, to find redemption I had to let go.

(4) PASSION MATTERS. ART MATTERS. BUT LOVE MATTERS MOST OF ALL.


Now, I'm sure some of you are wondering what the hell all this has to do with MB and with where I am and where I'm going. I'll finish it off and try to tie all the threads together in the next - and last - installment. Thanks for reading (especially after this one!@!)

-M

Truly inspiring. Can't wait for the next part....

Oh Miriam, where are thou Miriam.

Please come back and finish. {{{{{{{{{{{MIRIAM}}}}}}}}

Hi Miriam, good to see you posting. Sorry for all the pain you have been in.

As far as being a bad marriage partner, many of us feel the same but no matter what it is not an excuse to have an A. EVER. No one should have betrayed that trust. I grappled with the same feeling guilt for my part in my marriage but I know no matter what I would never had caused that pain to my partner.

God bless.

Am at work so can't "finish" (bring up to date) until tonight but do want to take a sec to respond to you, Hope.

I completely agree. There is no excuse. There is no justification.

But there are reasons. Most of those were on his part but some were on mine. The very enormity of the betrayal and pain and fallout blinded me to really "seeing" myself for a long time.

As long as I remained focused on how what he did was inexcusable, unjustified, etc., on how much pain I was in, on how I was entitled to my anger and grief - I did not really focus on ME. I had to look myself in the eyes in the mirror (see earlier post - that durn song... :-) ) - and be willing to really see.

I cannot change my husband. I can change me. And I can take stock of what I have done - intentionally or otherwise - to hurt someone who was very dear to me. And I can be accountable for that, directly, to his face. With love.

All without giving one inch of ground as to _his_ accountability. Which I am clear about.

But the only one - the ONLY one - I can change, is me. And it follows that if I want a new life, a happier life, a life full of love, it is ME that needs to grow.

M

Miriam,

As Hope said, we all have felt that way. In many cases, the BS's needs were not being met either. And I would say that maybe we had more needs not being met than the WS's needs (and there is a thread regarding this very topic out there somewhere).

So don't be so hard on yourself.