Intense Day

Been in another round of weepies since I attempted to take a nap. The nap didn't take.

I started using the D-word yesterday and was doing okay with it. In my own therapy yaddahs, the first step is just talking about it. I spent yesterday looking for Divorce Therapy. I am nowhere near ready to talk to lawyers. *Just* reviewing the options. Attemptig to get to and sort the parts inside of me. Nor am I ready to use the D-word with Hubs. We have discussed the issues behind the pending decision for over 3 decades. I see the decision about whether or not to divorce as a strictly personal decision. At this point, I'm confused enough without his executive strength assertions on the matter.

I haven't discussed divorce options with him, but 37 years is long enough to have some clues. As I was settling in for my nap, I received a text saying he wanted to come up here this week. As I pondered the text, an image of him in fire fighter's gear sprung to life in my mind. Nothing new there. Hubs is better than most about emergency response. Who needs prevention when you look so sexy in fire fighter's gear? I have most recently been calling that phase of the family cycle, "The Identified Patient Syndrome." My turn to be his identified patient. Lucky me. What was that saying about doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results?

I texted back that it sounded impulsive. There was more, but the conclusion is that he is not coming and I am going to be able to keep my current therapy scouting on track. Let it begin with me. I am still sorta, kinda scouting on the other local potentials, but I am no longer harboring delusions of collaboration. For now, I need counsel of the strictly personal kind. First things first.

The Alanon group here has been helpful. This morning's meeting ended up with four of us going to lunch. Felt great!

Stepping small. . .