I'm three years now into the separation from my husband. Maybe that's a cause of the doldrums, lingering in this limbo.
We're tinkering with the rotation, where he and I switch between the house and an apartment while our sons stay in the house. For a while making the change on a weekly basis seemed too often; it seemed I was packing and moving constantly. So we expanded the times between to two weeks. It was easier on me, but the boys began to complain. Part of the issue, they said, is that they felt they were spending far more time with Gary than me. And it's more than a matter of perception; they are right. Gary has kept his home office, so even when he lives at the apartment, he is at the house daily. When I'm at the apartment I'm at the apartment. This has been especially noticeable in the summer months when the boys are home from school. Now that school has started there should be some mitigation since they're gone when he's there.
We decided to speak to their perceptions of the lopsidedness with a 9 days Debora-on and 5 days Gary-on schedule. I have every-other Tuesday off from work, and thought if I had every-other Saturday through Tues at the apartment I'd get my break from parenting, but still be there with them during the important parts of the week.
This is just a stopgap. There are other reasons the Debora and Gary shuffle hasn't been working optimally and I'm eager to address that by having the boys begin to be the ones who rotate. I think after three years of separation they're prepared. The apartment, however, is a one-bedroom, and is too small for them to spend a week at a time. The rent has increased, and a two-bedroom within the building is out of reach for Gary. It's too bad, since it's just down the street from Connor's high school. That has worked well.
So Gary needs to find a place that's big enough for the three of them two weeks a month. He's talking about looking in the area of Scott's school, since the light rail nearby would make it convenient to Connor's school as well.
Before he can find the place he has to have a dependable income. And there's the rub. For at least a year I have been paying the mortgage and household expenses on one place and the rent on the other. He is self-employed and is getting his health insurance from my employment. This hasn't left much discretionary income and I have grown weary of it.
So it's likely that this is another source of the stuck feeling.
Gradually this is putting the squeeze on me. The discomfort of doing nothing is becoming equal-or-greater to the discomfort of dealing with the legal minutiae of divorce. It took so much effort just to do the separation that I've basically been resting these past 3 years, and gathering for the next step.
Two of my friends have passed me by in gathering their resolve, getting their legal ducks and docs in a row, and finalizing their divorces. They've been kind enough to share the benefit of their experiences so I'm not totally reinventing the wheel.
It's painful how long it took for me to go online and find the website to download the appropriate papers (Filing For Dissolution (Divorce), Co-Petitioners, Cases With Children--form 9A) Eventually I got them printed and slowly I've been filling them out. I'm allergic to legalese and the tedium of wading through. Currently I'm hung up on the child support worksheets. I realize it'll probably be me that pays support since I have the greater income. But how do we calculate his when it's so capricious?
This is why it's taking me years.
And maybe it's what's sucking the life out of me, so that while I long to write, I can't. I feel like someone at a party who opens her mouth, pauses, then closes it again. I have the desire to say something, only to find a vacancy. My private writings, my diaries, bear witness.