Breaking the Silence

I haven't written much in this blog this year. Partially because I've been busy. But more because since last year, my entire life feels like it's become a taboo. So instead of writing about the things that really matter to me, I update people on the mundane aspects of our life. But really, this has been one of the hardest years of my life, and thus also the hardest years of Adam's life as well.

Last year at this time, I remember calling my husband on the phone from Florida and telling him that I had discovered that my mom was having an affair. This year, I went to Florida with my mom and her new (not so new?) boyfriend. In the interim, my parents separated (for the most part) thier lives, thier possessions, and thier children. I became an adult child of divorce.

Most people expect that as an adult child, you shouldn't experience the same negative consequences as younger children. People expect you to be the strong one, to not hurt as much because you've grown up and moved out. People also expect that you shouldn't talk about your grief, because it's unfair to your parents and siblings to draw attention to yourself. You are called upon to be the supporter, the shoulder to cry on, the glue, the impartial observer. I have even been accused by family members of purposely trying to make my parents life difficult simply because of my emotional reaction to the situation. I decided to write this blog, inspired by a caring advisor, other online blogs and support groups, and the book "The Way They Were", because I no longer accept having my feelings and experience invalidated simply because I'm an adult.

I want to say that adult children experience the same negative reaction to divorce as younger children do; it's just different. The grief is far reaching, and for the most part, I've grieved in silence because I felt that I wasn't allowed to be sad or distressed-- after all, I'm an adult! I found also that it comes in waves-- just when I thought my life and my feelings were together again, something would happen and everything seemed to dissolve. Even a year later, I still hurt from time to time. I didn't experience the shock or false belief that most adult children do, believing that my childhood home was perfect and that my parents should never have split. My parents weren't perfect. Thier marriage wasn't perfect. They just did the best they could. But I do miss it. I do feel that my childhood memories have been violated in a way, that everything about my childhood has been a joke. My mom, like many divorcing parents, tried to erase any physical evidence of her former life. I don't blame her-- I would probably do the same. But the result is that the home that I grew up in is gone. It is literally a physically different structure than it was when I lived there, with many decorative and remodeled modifications. People have told me that I'm being overdramatic when I say that I feel like my childhood is gone, but every remnant of the place where I lived has been replaced by something else. The kitchen was remodeled a few years ago, my room redecorated, the floors redone, etc etc. Don't get me wrong, I endorsed these changes. I still do. But I also don't have a home anymore-- the memories I have of my life took place in a different house, with a different family, one that no longer exists.

Also, I have been called upon (not without a lot of acquiecence on my part) to be the primary support of my family. In a way, this never changed-- I was always the control freak of my family. Once I was old enough to drive, I took over a lot of parenting duties as my parents worked longer and longer hours. I was the glue. Again, I don't blame my parents-- I relished it. I know it was an unhealthy role to have as a child, but it gave me meaning in my life, and pride. The fact that I was the one to take the kids to doctors and dentist appointments, go to school functions, cook dinner, etc became as source of unhealthy pride and martyrdom for me. When my parents separated, my role was the same, but different-- I helped my dad move, I helped my mom's boyfriend move, I helped the kids adjust, to the best of my ability. This, too, I discovered, is pretty normal for adult children of divorce. In a way it wasn't hard-- it gave me something to do. Teaching my dad how to cook chicken offered some unique bonding experiences. :) But therapists struggle to get adult children of divorce to set boundaries-- a skill I never mastered (still haven't), and I'm sure in some ways (invisible to me) my own emotional health and marriage have suffered.

Finally, I'm a graduate student. If I'm good at anything, it's multi-tasking, and balencing. I work all the time. I study all the time. I am a super busy lady. I never get to see my husband, and sometimes my family and my emotions get put on hold so I can finish a project, study for an exam, or read something for dissertation. It's a lot to manage. Unlike other people who experience divorce, I often feel like I never had time to grieve. I am a slow but thorough griever. It's been a year and I still struggle. But I feel like I don't have time for this. A lot of times my sadness and hurt comes out in a frenzied tirade about my computer breaking down, getting a B (instead of an A) on an exam, or a professor who's being a jerk. Most times the only time I have alone is the 30 minute drive rushing between campus and my parents houses on the northside, and that's when I cry. I am trying my best. But most of the time "my best" feels inadequate. I feel like I'm never a good enough student, sister, daughter, wife. A lot of that is my own baggage from before the divorce, but some of it is just me, racing against time and ignoring my broken life/heart.

Of course there's a lot more behind all this-- I would be lying if I said I wasn't deeply angry and frusterated with the situation. But I tried to keep this both objective an honest... for once, this is about me, and not my parents. This is about what I feel, not what they did or didn't do. I know that we'll come out on the other side okay. But I, personally, am tired of "faking it" until then. I'm still broken. But today I decided to be honest about it, in hopes that maybe someone would learn soemthing from it, or at least understand me a little bit better. This is where I am.

My funny valentine

I always feel like Valentine's Day is really only acknowledged by two groups of people: Those who are single and feel like everyone else is having the greatest day of thier life, and those who are in a new relationship and really are having the greatest day of thier life. For the rest of us, it's pretty much just an ordinary day. :) But nonetheless, not focusing on valentine's day too much this year made it probably the greatest valentine's day of my life thus far, so here's a rundown of our celebration:

Adam and I have almost never celebrated valentine's day ON valentines day, as a result of the fact that he usually has to work and we both feel like it's just another stupid day anyway. But we do usually use it as an excuse to have an extra-special date night somewhere around Feb. 14th. This year we celebrated by getting couple's massages on Thursday, which was the BEST PRESENT EVER. I suprised Adam with it, but next year we decided to forego the suprise and just make it a tradition. He brought me flowers on Monday and Thursday of this week, so that was lovely :) and on Wednesday I got my real valentine's present, which was a Fruedian magic 8 ball. :) I love it! We also went out to dinner at our favorite sushi restaurant.

The rest of the weekend Adam pretty had to work, but on Friday night I made the most fattening and delicious homemade alfredo sauce, and on Saturday morning some friends and I went to the Indianapolis Winter Farmer's market, which I highly recommend for good bread, tea, and meats! (Not too much produce this time of year, but still a good time.) My favorite part was the highly pissed off rabbit sitting in a cage who's feces were being sold as plant fertilizer.

Saturday night was the Brazilian Carnival adventure-- we went to The Jazz Kitchen in BR for their celebration of Carnival. It was SUPER PACKED. Nonetheless we drank some traditional Brazilian drinks and danced to what appeared to be a soccer team playing in a drum circle. At some point a creepy Brazilian guy started dancing with me, and me being totally naive and unfamiliar with the culture of clubs or Carnival, thought he was just being nice. Of course, before too long he started trying to kiss me, which I akwardly avoided. Then he said "kiss me" and I said, "No! I'm married!" and he said "It's okay, I'm engaged!" and then I ran for the hills. Everyone (including Adam) thought this was hilarious except me.

On actual V-day, my friend Mollie came down, and we ended up meeting Adam after work and my dad at The Claddaugh on the northside, which was nearly deserted. I had the best time drinking beers and laughing it up with good friends and family, and eating the best comfort food in Indianapolis, in my humble opinion. With the olypics on in the background, ridiculous 90s romance music (Think Kaci & Jojo's "All My Life") and hilarious stories going all around, I couldn't have asked for a better (yet unromantic) Valentine's Day. :)

New Office!

So, we finally got around to redoing the office!! We had been meaning to do it for a while, ever since the rabbit started eating huge holes in the carpet in there. It was necessary to put new flooring down. We finally got our new home buyer tax credit, so we bought some high-end laminate flooring. Since I also happened to be on break, I repainted the room. Adam put down the floors ALL BY HIMSELF, and redid all the trim too. :) So now I have a new office for the new semester. If I do say so myself, it looks great! Here are the before and after pictures:

Before:




After:



I love my husband!! And I love my new office!! :)

We made it 2010.

There comes a time in which the circumstances in your life seem so impossible and unpleasant that it becomes difficult to update blogs/send letters/tell others how you are doing. This is that time.

This is the blog entry to let you all know that we are still alive, that Christmas was bearable but not notable, and that the house has not burned down or been consumed by the rabbit (yet).

Better updates to come in 2010. I hope.