dumbstruck

Have you ever been so totally in love with someone that you lost yourself in the process? Not a smart thing to do, I've found. 14 years later, and I don't have a clue who I am anymore, separate from Joe and the girls. My happiness rode on his coattails...it would be a gutwrenching experience, knowing he was coming home mad. The really sad thing is, I allowed it to happen. I shoved myself down into this neat little package and let him walk all over me. For years. I'm tired. It stops now, I tell myself. Then I contemplate his return, and I can feel myself sliding right back into little woman mode. It isn't right...but I am not one of those women who tromp around proclaiming my superiority to men, or battling for "women's rights" on every front...I just think that at the end of the day, to have someone in my life who loves me utterly, won't hit me, won't demean me or take me for granted...that sounds like Heaven.
It's earth shattering to think of what has to happen in order for me to find this. I think a separation at the minimum is required, but to think of what that entails scares me to no end. To pick apart the threads of our life together and push them into what's mine and what's his...it's so sad and awful. I worry about the girls. The effect it will have on them. But I worry about the effect my staying would have as well, for them to see their mom trampled and coddled and raised up only to be shattered again. I have not been a good role model for them. I worry the damage is already done.
He comes home soon. What will happen, I don't know. I'd like to think he'll be fine, hug the girls, spend time with them and be ok until he leaves again. There's this little part of me that says otherwise, and I don't know if I should consider that paranoid, or believe in it. Believe me, I've had my share of paranoia.

first time

So, here I am. My life is in an uproar. I feel like the last 14 years I have spent watching this storm build around me, and instead of leaving, I put on a raincoat and tell the kids to throw their galoshes on. Some days I know what I want. Others, I have no clue whatsoever. Why is it a threatening thing for me to wish to go to school? To do something solely for myself? I've spent my time looking after my kids, taking care of my husband's needs and critical assignments he "just didn't have the time for" and now, looking back, where have I been all these years? If I go to my high school reunion, and people ask me what I've done with my life, I don't know what to say but to tout my husband's career and my kids' accomplishments. Is that sad, or what? But when I reach for what I want in this life, it is solidly denied to me. It seems there are huge chasms between me and the things I aspire to. I want to be proud of me, and I want support in that which I wish for. I won't get it from my husband. I won't get it from anybody but myself...I guess I have to be my own biggest cheerleader. :-)