The pain of others at the expense of "what I want" is about the hardest thing for me to bear. In a few weeks we will tell our children that Daddy is moving out. And then it happens. No words about why dad is moving out, not just yet. But in time. It is all becoming very real and very close to happening. My feelings are so very mixed up that I've felt paralyzed at times. Just making day-to-day decisions seems impossible. But, we soldier on.
My head acknowledges that I have a right to "what I want," and that this is not about some whim of desire but something at the core of my being. When you've been a co-dependent caretaker as long as I have, it's hard to make a switch and admit my needs.
For some bizarre, guilt-ridden reason, I don't like to admit it there is an up side to my moving out: greater freedom for me. Freedom to do what? That is the question for me.
God, I hope I am doing the right thing.
Because of my job, I still must remain largely in the closet. Though I might have the chance to build some (discreet) friendships, I must be very circumspect. To be outed would be disastrous
And in other news . . . .
My PA piercing is healing quite well. I have to say I'm enjoying it. Just knowing it's there is a boost, a reminder that I am (in process, at least, of) coming out. Now I'm anxious to gauge up a bit, but I want to make sure there has been plenty of healing. Right now, I've got a captive bead ring in. I want to get a circular barbell and maybe a bent barbell, too. Any ideas?
In the midst of a lot of sadness, there is still much for which to be grateful. If only I could remember that. . . . . .