Relationship resolution. Restored recognition.

Just as I was about to put pen to paper here, I got a call from the protaganist of my story. He needed me. Ready in 5 minutes please. And ready I was. This time he's on an exercise with his army cohorts and I can be whisked away to pick up the vehicle this morning.So much for writing.

Now its a few hours later and I've managed to run errands, get groceries and bring all my laundry up to the apartment and I can have a while to write again. Its given more time to ponder as I drove, thinking about all the subtle ways that I have changed in the past 10 days, thinking about how its going to reverb through the changed relationship we are in now. I am no longer going to pretend I'm a wife. I'm the other woman he's living with in a creative way. I don't need the pigeon holing labels to give me status. I am who I am now.

I spoke to him about getting my own place and it didn't even merit a sentence worth of response. I don't know if that's because he doesn't believe me or because he is so innured by the situation currently that all he wants, really, is to keep the status quo, keep from rocking the boat, just let the storm blow by.

I'm not so sure. I still revel in the thoughts of my own space, my own income, my own momentum with his help in an even more creative way of partnering. I'm still with him, but I'm with me too now, and I am not putting my agenda on the back burner for anyone in that never ending waiting game. My stuff is still all packed away and he doesn't notice that there are no little momentos like there were before. For all I know, Mr. Military Starkness is releived that my creative chaos and clutter has been hidden.

On Monday, I will start anew. More appointments with the Spectrum people, some counselling advice, some medical testing. Some changes in the apartment. I will be creating a work centre for projects as over this past week I've amassed all manner of practical, realistic, upcycling creative things I could be making and distributing via online venues and also, begin building up an inventory so that when summer rolls around, I can consider the possibility of actually doing my heart's desire, which is to have booths at festivals so I can get paid to party in the sun. Make hay while the moon shines.

Manifesting a small van that I can trick out as a bit of a camper, a bit of a work space, a bit of a virtual office, a bit of a kitchen is all I need. And good mechanics under the hood as well as working on it to keep it in top shape.

For all the panic I felt a week ago when I opened that msg and felt my heart thud against my shoes, there has been little in the way of resolution. We had a talk, he talked, I listened. I cried at being spoken to gently by someone who means so much to me and then he had a peptic fit from not eating right and went to bed after my attempts at making dinner succeeded only to poison him. I shouldn't cook when I'm emotionally exhausted.

I learned a lot about friendship this week as I REALLY did feel like I was being tossed to the curb. I wouldn't have been panicking so much if I thought that this was just one of his outbursts and he would blow over it in a few days. I wasn't able to be near him, I had no way of knowing where his head was at, I knew that his friend has an inordinate amount of influence over him and her opinion of me is questionable.

Thanks to everyone for stepping up, I had offers of fiscal gifts, loans, places to stay and meals and hugs. I had so much support that I really feel like I have a network, I HAVE a foundation and I'm not completely at a loss if the shit hits the fan and everything goes screwy. Thank you to all of you who rose to the task of helping me rebalance after this crazy and wonky week.

I was thinking that my going through this whole 'WE'RE SPLITTING UP!!!' thing and then NOT splitting up would be like crying wolf the next time I am faced with adversity in the relationship, but then, who knows? His PTSD slaps me not physically but cerebrally every few weeks on a regular basis as he struggles with a spate of compounding challenges and I know that if I stay, I am likely going to feel the brunt of that negativity again. I guess what I'm trying to say is that now that I have the EFT training, thanks to Holly, fiscal outs, thanks to those who you know who you are, and emotional support from the rest of you who were so wonderful, perhaps I won't have to descend to Persephone's depths clutching my precious remaining pomegranate seeds, worried that I was losing myself. You won't let that happen. I DO have a net. The love of good people.

So I return to the relationship and its resultant duties, applying myself to the requested task of making shepherd's pie for his dinner. Holding him in bed last night was heaven. I am so confused but I am so loved, and frankly, compared to the grief in other places on the planet, I have nothing to kvetch about at all.

Many hychqas to my friends and allies.

Tina