Here it is, almost the end of the day, and I've got nothing comic-related to talk about. (This post, BTW, will not touch on comics so by all means, skip on to something else if you're here only for that.) I spent a significant portion of the day with my soon-to-be-ex-wife going through our collective stuff, and sorting who gets what. And even though she left around dinner time, I've been in something of a funk since then.
The interesting thing about our marriage being dissolved is that I'm definitely learning some things about myself. Hard lessons, certainly, and they're not exactly being delivered in an easy manner. For example, I came to the realization today that I'm largely "dealing" with the day-to-day living without her by completely ignoring the situation. She actually came by to sort stuff on Wednesday, but I got really angry and bitter almost as soon as I got home and saw her sorting out DVDs. Because, despite going to therapy every week, it was one of the few instances where I've had to really deal with the situation in a practical sense. That upset her, and she left with an upset stomach before finishing. (Which, I learned today, kept her up most of that night vomiting.)
Another event this week showcased just how far I've got to go emotionally as well. With the holiday traveling and wonky schedule around Thanksgiving, followed by two consecutive nights of band practice in the dining room, the dog was fairly upset and ended up throwing up Monday night, after I went to bed. I obviously cleaned things up when I woke up the next morning, but when I found that he threw up again after I left for work (which at that point was nothing but bile) I found myself screaming with frustration and pounding my fists on the table. To the point where my voice was audibly sore the next day, and a few co-workers asked if I was getting sick. Evidently my tolerance for dealing with unexpected life events is really low, because my reaction was clearly out of scale with the trigger event.
So, as much as I make an active point of trying to stay upbeat and cheerful and busy and positive and all that, I get days like today where I can really see what's festering just beneath the surface. And, yeah, I know that's part of the healing process and some days are going to be worse than others. And I know that it'll all sort out sooner or later, and I'll move on with my life. And I know this is absurdly trivial for just about everyone who even might read this. But since a person's blog is about their own ego as much as anything else (after all, who am I to say that I have anything worth reading?) I'm going to be perfectly honest in saying that this particular entry is strictly being written for selfish reasons. I'm writing this here and now for the sake of getting this out of my head and trying to come to terms with it in some fashion.
Tomorrow, the guys from the band are stopping by. I'll put my mask back on and smile and make jokes. We'll practice and probably try to record a few things like there was nothing else more important in the world. I'll go to work on Monday and work on a presentation that I have to give on Tuesday. And, if anybody asks how my weekend went, I'll probably mention band practice and completely omit any reference to today. I'll smile and nod and say everything's peachy and try to get back to ignoring things again.
But until then, please excuse my saying that this really sucks and I really don't want to be here in my skin right now. Here's to a (hopefully) dreamless night...