Something is definitely going on. I’m not exactly sure what it is – but it is undeniable. There is something stirring, even as I sit here typing this. When I get the urge to talk to you (those of you that may catch a glimpse of this), there is this streaming sensation I get in my chest, an urge almost, to speak, to vent, to let it out. It’s insanely powerful and when I start to feel the very beginnings of it, I know it’s time. So I sit here and close my eyes – and wait. Within minutes my head and my heart come to an understanding (best way to describe it) and voilà…here I am.
What is it exactly that is happening? I feel awakened…alert, oriented, as if my mind is mentally preparing itself – by itself. How do I even begin to describe this? Almost as if my mind is craving a sort of knowledge. Not the…DIY how to build a bookshelf or what the best green products on the market are…no. It’s more of the self awareness/enlighten me sort of thing. An overwhelming sensation of the need to acquire all of the information I will need to guide me along the rest of my journey.
Truth be told…
If I play the numbers game, and wait for my son (the youngest) to turn 18, mathematically I still have 3 years. Which seems like forever now that I am so close. Of course, in the grand scheme…I have done 25 years already, so the last 3 years should be a cake walk. And if I look at it in school years, he’s half way through his first year of high school. Between week long vacations here and there, summer will be here and gone before you know it and I’ll be talking about his sophomore year.
Now, this is the part where people say don’t wait, take your kids and leave. My older two are over 18. Although they still live at home, I’m not worried about them. I have already prepped the oldest that I will not be here that long past her brother’s 18th birthday and I have started to drop hints to my middle child – who is the more clingy of the three. Over the years I’ve said plenty of times that I am out when my son turns 18 – albeit in the heat of an argument – or under my breath – or just out loud when none of them have the time to help me around the house because they’re all busy on their electronic whatevers. So I know, in one way or another, this departure will be no surprise. Not even to my husband – except I think he’s in denial.
I don’t want to push my luck by continuing to state that at the moment there has been no physical abuse for quite some time, but the verbal and psychological bullshit is enough to make me contemplate throwing it all away and adding another 25 years to my sentence. That being said, I know him well enough that if I were to leave now – with my son – it would not play out well. It’s the one topic he has made clear – if not directly to me – then talking out loud (as if to himself but we both know it’s directed towards me) during Jerry Springer-type shows, what would happen if I ever took any of his kids away from him. Plus, as I said before, I don’t want my kids to live in hiding. No reason for it. They didn’t choose this life. It would’ve been different if I left when they were small and they didn’t know any better or even when three kids was only two kids, or even one. I’m not doing that to them now. I have no issue going into hiding when I leave – but it’s not for them.
So, I’ll do the remainder of my time…sorting, selling, tossing…ridding myself of the bullshit that I have acquired these past two decades that are unnecessary and that I will not leave behind for him. Basically, a slow but steady decrease in the non-essentials. I will take advantage of my health insurance and keep up with regular visits to every and any doctor I am entitled to visit, get my bills paid, and paperwork in order. I have already started to plan a course of action and will continue to do so.
Let me be the one to point out the elephant in the room…anything can happen in a course of 3 years. That’s obvious. If the opportunity arose that was a now or never situation, I’d be all over it like white on rice. No worries there. Unfortunately, he seems to be somewhat healthy (even without regular visits to the doctor). Although there is an overwhelming possibility of sleep apnea…but he always ends up taking another breath of air. Haha!! Oh well.
Seriously though…I feel good. I feel strong. I feel amazingly optimistic (which is unlike me). Whatever changes are happening within me are definitely for the positive. And as I come to the end of this post…that feeling…the stirring I get before writing…is slowly leaving. That’s how I can tell that what I have poured out was right and appropriate.
Even though I cringe at the thought of being so close but yet so far…when I go, I don’t want to “run” out of here. I want to “walk” with my head up high. At least that’s the plan.
To read from the beginning… my story starts here.