One year ago.

One year ago today.

I went to work with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I got nothing done. My mind was somewhere else completely. I said an email about mid day to Shari and it said, "Tonight, when I go home, I'm asking for a divorce." Part of me had to type that so it was out there, like I was now accountable to someone.

I was living about 35 miles from work and that drive was long and I dreaded it for several reasons. For the six months prior, it was harded and harder to get home because some part of me just wanted to keep going. Just drive right past that house.

When I got home I nearly felt sick. I made dinner, I put our daughter to sleep. I knew he had to go to work but if I didn't say what I had to right then, I knew I may never. Those were some of the worst words I have ever spoken, but they have made me so much happier. 

I went back and looked at this blog form a year and a half ago. You can see it coming. You can see it build and you can see me trying to put a name to my sadness. When I started to see Lynn the Therapist, I told her I was there because I wanted to save my marriage. I was wrong. I needed to give myself permission to end it.

So a year later. I have my own home for the first time in my life. Choas reigns over it, but it's mine. I have my own space. I have my own time and I choose how to spend it and I spend it well.