Summer of Natalie I

The first hour of the drive to Leann's was a blur, I could barely string together a thought.  I felt sick and broken not understanding what was going on with me and why I felt so alone and lost in my life. I hated leaving but couldn't stand the thought of continuing in a 'groundhog day' cycle of complete misery.  I became terrified of that life...where I merely existed and never really knew how to live or be happy anymore.

I often wondered if I struggled because I had trouble letting go of one part of my life and embracing the other.  I seen friends and family everyday looking completely happy in their home in the suburbs, playing with their children and looking almost picturesque in their happiness.  To be honest I don't know if what I felt was jealousy or sickness watching it.  I wanted so badly to feel content and happy with my life and not always day dream about what else there was or what I was missing out on.  I often remember my mother looking at me with tears in her eyes and saying, "it makes me sad that you will never be truly happy in life because you'll always want to see more, experience more and be more, in your case...ignorance would have been bliss".  I think in the beginning of my adult life my mother was happy to see me take on the world fearlessly, but now she wondered when it would ever be enough.  I try and go back over my life and decisions and all I can come to is that I feel loss.  I feel sad for the little girl who dreamed of law school, to travel the world and write.  I feel sad that I pushed her aside as if to say "you came close and that will have to do", just to to help others because I was infested with so many insecurities I chose them over her.  Now I spend my days worrying if it's too late, or who would now have to sacrifice for me...it makes me sick thinking if I choose me who will suffer.  Over the years I have come to believe in the power of worry like so many others believe in the power of prayer.

The anxiety starts to make an appearance as I think of how others will view my disgusting behaviour of leaving my family on weekends to be with one of my best friends.  I imagine I'll be viewed as selfish for taking this time to find out what I could possibly be missing from my world.  I start to feel nauseous and have to switch gears in thinking before I start throwing up and crying.  I couldn't
possibly throw up or shed one more tear.  My anxiety quickly shifts to anger thinking about the judgement and whispers and side looks I'll get.  It doesn't take long for me to feel the fire emerge and I quickly start to defend who I am and what I want...all in my head of course.  I am able to come to a few truths that make me feel balanced for the first time in days.  The first is that I am open and honest with my husband and he supports me fully, the second is that regardless of this path I am on I love my husband and children more than anything and know they deserve to have all of me and not just a version or shell of who I 'should' be and that those who love and support me will understand and help me along as I have helped them.  I start to feel relieved and a little relaxed.

I opened the window and hoped for Tom Petty to come on the radio.  Three towns and about an hour left of driving with guilt riding shotgun.

Starting My Journey VI

The last couple nights have been awful and I find I toss and turn more than I actually sleep.  Last night I think I passed out from pure exhaustion and feel slightly rested this morning.  I roll over to stretch and finally open my eyes when I notice Dan is awake...and staring at me, "good morning creepy".  He just laughs and throws a pillow at me.  We decide to sneak downstairs for coffee and alone time before she wakes.

We grab a coffee and stretch out on the couch, it feels relaxing and for the first time in a long time I feel content.  Dan lets me sit and enjoy this moment for a few minutes, the talk is coming and we both know it's the reason we are up earlier than usual.  I can feel the anxiety start to rise in me and I start telling Dan every feeling and thought I've been having as if I were throwing up everything I have ever eaten.  "Dan, I'm scared that if I take this opportunity I won't come back or that if I do I will always feel the itch to leave again".  He takes my hands and kisses them, "if you leave, it is not a matter of opportunity...it is a matter of time".  I know he's right.  I have always known with Dan that I am free to fly and live whatever life I want, marriage is not my enemy...time is.  "Natalie, the worst thing isn't you leaving, it's you staying and being miserable always wondering".  And then reality hit me like a train and I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "I am always going to love you and I will always be your friend but I may not always be your husband.  You have to find what will make you feel complete on your own.  One day the children will move out and have lives of their own and one day you may find yourself alone...find what will make you happy when it's just you".  At that point my brain couldn't decipher if I thought he was being mean or kind, but I knew it was the truth.

I packed my bag for the weekend and met him at the door.  I felt like I was being made to walk the plank, you can only move forward to the ledge and never back...I fucking hope I fly...

Starting My Journey V

I'm still feeling the effects from the weekend come Monday morning and decide that rather than checking my profile I should make breakfast for Dan.  Driving hungover for eight hours across the prairies may be the worst thing I've ever experienced in my adult life.  I'll try and remember if I ever get to go back that Saturday might be best spent as an early night rather than a sprint to the last call line.

Dan comes down to the kitchen and throws me a wink and a smile for making him breakfast.  I grab us some coffee and meet him at the table.  "Well how was your weekend?"  It took everything in me to not burst into song and dance..."it was okay".  Thank goodness for a lingering hangover otherwise I never would have been able to pull that off.  He looks up from his plate and laughs, "you drunk dialled me nine times".  I just giggle and offer an embarrassed apology.  Then I have to wonder who else I may have called or texted, I make a note to go through my phone later.  I can feel him staring at me and I don't want to make eye contact cause I know he will see it in my face...I want to go back.  Dan finishes his breakfast and grabs his coffee, "think you'd like to do it again?"  I wish that I could offer him an honest "it was fun but I'm in no rush" but that's not the case because truth be told I'm hoping I can go again Friday.  Dan starts clearing the table and I know it's to give me the couple minutes of privacy I need to gain my composure, he reads me like his favourite book.  "I'm sorry", it's really all I could say knowing if I started to explain why I was sorry I would burst into tears or worse...the darkness would return.

Dan brings us more coffee and flashes me his best smile, he knows he's handsome and makes me blush.  He holds my hand but does't make eye contact knowing it'll be too much for me to handle.  I can feel him laughing beside me and I look at him confused because this talk hardly called for laughter.  He finally looks at me, "remember the episode of Seinfeld with the 'Summer of George'?" I just nod, "maybe all you need is a Summer of Natalie".  Woah!! Did he seriously just offer me a summer to spend as I wanted?  I was almost too afraid to ask for fear I misunderstood him...but I really wanted to know what he had in mind.  "Like go away for the entire summer?  I don't want to." He just smiled, "no Natalie not the entire summer.  Take the weekends for yourself and be home during the week".  The darkness comes rushing back as if to remind me that if I didn't think I was a bad wife and mother before, I would be now if I actually accepted Dan's offer.  He gets up and places his cup in the sink, "I'm off to work but think about it and we'll talk tonight".  My body was almost numb from sickness and guilt, it took all my strength to walk him to the door.

I went up and crawled into bed with my daughter.   Tears streaming down my face and offering silent apologies for not being better.

Starting My Journey IV

I open one eye and immediately shut it due to the blinding sun coming through the blinds.  Am I on the floor?  I sure am, I have a slight memory of trying to figure out how to stop the room from spinning last night...the bed must have been too high to put my foot on the floor so I just climbed down and decided it was best to stay there.  It's been a long time since I've seen Leann and try not to giggle remembering last nights festivities as I have a crippling headache that compliments my sick stomach nicely.

I'm finally able to pick myself up off the floor and make my way to the washroom.  I take one look in the mirror and make a mental note to either stop wearing so much make up or start hunting Batman.  I can hear Leann crying or dying in the living room and I can only imagine that she feels and looks about the same as me.  I'll have to go see her...right after I have a nap on the washroom floor.

So there I was laying on the floor praying for the sweet release of death and two things occur to me; the first is that Dan is right, it is absolutely okay and essential for me to have time for myself and the second is that gin does not like me nearly as much as I like it.  The guilt of spending time with friends slides away and I feel a little relieved and happy...for now.  I'm well aware that one negative comment can easily erase the hundred positive ones...ugh it makes me sick thinking that negative people have so much power over what I think of myself.  I hear a knock at the door and Leann comes in with her blanket and takes a spot beside me on the floor she hands me Advil and water...I love this woman.

After packing up my things and having a little something to eat I know it's a long drive back and I have to get on the road if I want to put my daughter to bed tonight.  I hug my friend and grab my things.  I can't help but feel sad wondering if and when this would happen again, I mean it's not like she just lives down the street from me.  I jump in my car and throw my things in the back seat and head for the highway.  As I start to count the towns on my way home the guilt creeps back in and I know it's because I want to do this again...and I want to do it often.  At this point I'm just grateful that I'm far too dehydrated to cry, I open the sun roof and turn up the music...three towns down and about seven hours to go.

Starting My Journey III

I woke pretty early this morning, likely from my own anxieties.  I grabbed the computer and went to the kitchen for what has become a morning ritual for me.  This is a little escape for me, a break from my own thoughts and fears.  I grab my coffee and make my way to the couch with the dogs.   I log in to find 32 messages...I giggle because this has become more of a comic relief for me and less of an actual way to find people to meet.

Dan comes down for breakfast before he leaves for work, he looks over and smiles at me "how is the on line counselling and etiquette class going?" I have to laugh, he truly is the best person I have ever had the pleasure to know.  I tell him Robert messaged me again to go to the island but I declined because I didn't think I could swim the entire hundred miles to the mainland if I had to.  He makes us some toast and meets me at the table.

I know he knows, he can see it in my face.   He finally asks, "how have you been feeling, have you eaten or slept?" I just give him a slight smile, "very little".  He finishes his breakfast and grabs his coffee.  I know he wants to talk and my only hope is that I can keep the tears at bay long enough for us to have this talk.  He knows I am struggling keeping my demons under control and that each day is like being on high alert for fear they will return at any time.

Dan finishes his coffee and leads me to the couch where he can cuddle me.  "Natalie for the past three years you have done very little for yourself.  You were pregnant, then taking care of the baby as well as nurturing your long distance relationship with your son.  You need to remember that being a wife and mother is only part of who you are and that it is important to take care of you too."  I started to cry almost immediately, I love this man and wished so badly I could just be a perfect wife to him.  Dan and I always said we were the same person, we are free spirits that love to experience new things and take chances...our one difference is that Dan is able to fly freely while my wings have been clipped for fear of what others will think or say.

"Natalie I think you should pack a bag and go see your friend Leann for the weekend.  You need a break."  He decided to work from home today so I can leave this morning and start the eight hour drive.  Let me tell you that the following hour was a complete blur of packing and organizing and to be honest...I can't even recall if I brushed my teeth but I'm almost certain I showered...almost.  I stood at the door with my bag in my hand and as many pairs of shoes as I could fit in my arms.  The tears started pouring down my face...embarrassed and ashamed for wanting to go away for the weekend.  Dan came over to open the door, "it's okay Natalie, you don't have to feel bad for wanting some of your own time".  As I hear those words I know he is right but that does not take away the fear I have of what others might say or think of me...as a wife and mother.

I jump in my car and throw my bag in the back along with an obscene amount of shoes.  I just keep telling myself "it's okay".  I notice Dan left his cigarettes in the car and I think, "what the hell", I light one and take a long puff...that was immediately followed with me pulling the car over and throwing up for fifteen minutes.  Okay I'm not badass yet, I'll save those for after I've hit up happy hour.  I turn up the music and open the sun roof, only seven and a half hours left to go...

Starting My Journey II

It's almost 9am when I finally wake up and fear consumes me.  Where is she? Why isn't she up?  I run into her room to find her still fast asleep, I forgot about our 3am picnic in her bed when she woke from a nightmare.  I let her continue to sleep while I make coffee and pancakes.  She comes downstairs about half an hour later with her favourite blanket and demands her milk.

After breakfast we colour for a bit then make our beds and get ready to head out for a day of shopping.  She makes me giggle as she narrates all of her decisions and actions as she performs them.  She grabs her blanket and a teddy bear and heads to the car singing a song about all the toys she wants to get today.  I can't help but laugh and feel sad all at the same time.  I immediately think of my son and what he was like almost 15 years ago. 

To this day I feel a strong desire to defend my choices and actions in regards to my son.  I take offence when people ask "he doesn't live with you?"  Regardless of how innocent the question I immediately think I am being judged as a bad mother.  If I hear one other person say "I could never leave my child" I might just punch them in the face.  I feel like they are looking at me like I'm crazy for that even being an option let alone my reality.  Even as I write this, I know I have to state my side knowing full well that not everyone will care why, they will only care that it happened.  

I was pregnant at 18 and had my son shortly after turning 19.  His father was my best friend, and is still a close friend to this day.  I had the same feelings as I experience today, the days that run together, the sadness and anxieties that come from wondering if this is it forever.  The realization that I wasn't born to just be a mom and that I wanted to experience life, I at least wanted to go to university to better my life.  When I was accepted to the university it was bitter sweet, I was so excited to have the opportunity to open more doors for me and at the same time I knew that my son would not be coming on this journey with me...well not full time anyway.  Although my heart was breaking to leave him with his father I knew I could not take him...it didn't even make sense to take him.  As guilty as I felt for leaving, I just couldn't take him out of a stable home from his father who could care for him in every way and out of a city that was filled with his family and supports.  I mean why would I take him to a bachelor suite where he would need to go to day care daily and spend most of his time in care rather than with myself.  So my two choices were to leave him in his stable environment where he was safe and well taken care of, a place where I was invited to every weekend to visit, or I could take him with me to live in a bachelor suite and attend day care all day rather than spend that time with his grandmother.  I can stand here today and tell you that if this was anyone else's situation I would easily say it's a no brainer...if you take that child with you then it proves that you are acting for you and not in the best interest of that child.  I have always felt like I have acted in the best interest of my son...but for some reason the guilt I have for doing so makes me immediately defend my position, as if what you think should mean more than what I know for sure.  When I look at my son I know I made the right decision and it may not be your decision, but in my heart I know I loved him enough because I acted in his best interest and not to fulfill my selfish needs.   

She's waiting right by the car as I grab my purse and head into the garage, I love seeing her bouncy curls and big smile.  There are times I look at my daughter and see my son at that age, it grips my heart because I missed so much...I know it's time...something has to give...

Starting My Journey I

I finally slept and was able to stomach a small piece of toast this morning.  Positive emotions come flooding back to me like long lost friends I have ached for.  I'm not ignorant to the fact that my happiness is triggered by outside sources, and not just any sources...other men.  I grab my coffee and computer and curl up on my couch, the feeling of guilt arrives as scheduled when I log into my profile.

I attempt to ignore the sickening feeling as I start to read and answer messages.   I start to read profile after profile and wonder about these men who are essentially trying to find a partner in this cyber bar. It's quite obvious early on that many of these men are just looking for a one night stand even though their profile clearly states "looking to be married", I start to feel a little sad for the women who will fall into that lie.  I talk to men trying to have affairs as well as ones that are legitimately looking to make friends and see where it takes them.   I decide that my best route is to just make friends.  Somehow that decision does not make the guilt and anxiety subside.

I'm struggling trying to understand why I have this guilt and anxiety.  I mean I am always open and honest with my husband and I have not hurt anyone...where is this coming from?  And there it is...my "ah ha moment".  I immediately feel ashamed, I'm 35 years old and still desperately feel the need for acceptance.  But why?  Why do I care what other's think of me and the way I live my life?  I have to stop and think about this because the nauseous feeling is returning like a freight train, okay I do a check on myself.  Dan is aware of everything and I have not lied to him even a little, I am not hurting anyone and I am an adult that can make her own decisions.  Okay, the nausea begins to fade but I know it's always lurking close by.  I feel embarrassed by my incessant want and need to feel accepted, understood and seen as 'normal' by friends, family and strangers.  I always knew I sang a different tune in life and was a bit different then the people I surrounded myself with.  Everyone always seemed so content in life, like they always had it figured out.  I felt like I missed that day in school where they handed out the answers to life and were told directly not to share them with me.   I wanted so desperately to see in someone else what I felt in me, but it either never happened or even I wasn't sure what it looked like.  I feel sad knowing that I hid the quirky little girl inside like she was an embarrassment and chose to conform for fear as being seen as 'different' from those who love me and those who don't even know me.  

My daughter comes down the stairs, I didn't even hear her wake.  She is wearing a collage of colours that could spark a seizure in some people, complimented perfectly with a cape.  I look at her and smile...I will never hide this quirky little girl or be embarrassed...she is absolutely perfect and I could't be more proud.