Life in 3D: How Did I End Up in Florida?

If you have to lose something big, you might as well lose absolutely everything all at once.  In the last six months I have lost the following:

A husband and a home.  I got divorced and signed over the house I shared with him for almost nine years.

Moved out on my own, first time since aged 22

A boyfriend.  I engaged in a torrid love affair with a younger man (okay, not that torrid or that much younger, but it sounds dramatic)

And lost/quit my job of three years

Moved five states away and am now living with my Dad and Stepmom in Florida

How the fuck did that happen?  Well, I guess that is what this blog is about.

How did I get divorced?   Well… Um… There is a simple, easy answer to that.  An answer I will not tell right now openly, but it is rather cut and dry, really.  The short story is that we wanted different things and the same things all at once.  We couldn’t give each other what we needed and it is no one’s fault.  But still, I feel betrayed and lied to for years and it makes me question the entire twelve year marriage, my self-worth, and my identity as a woman.  Trust me, if you had a divorce like mine, you’d skip town too.

Torrid Love Affair?  Okay, he was only five years younger, but still.  He was damn sexy although not devastatingly attractive.   He just had that special something that made me weak.  He was super masculine, very sexual, strong, and not at all sensitive.  After the divorce, he was exactly what I needed.  I did love him.  Still do.  I REFUSE to call it a rebound, it just did not work out.  We were not all that compatible.

Job Loss? Well, it depends on who you talk to.  We were told that when we got a new computer system that the company were going to eventually have some cutbacks.  I did not see that they were going layoff people, rather I just thought that they would “get rid of” certain people so they would not have to pay unemployment.  I got going while the getting’s good.  Besides, I was so laughably ill-suited to sit quietly in a cubicle and pay attention to close details.

Moving to Florida: Basically, I had nowhere to go.  I lived in my hometown in the moderately large Midwestern city most of my life.  Thirty-plus years and after I left my husband and my job I had nowhere to go.  I felt like I had not contacts or prospects.  It was a very lonely and desparate time.  I cried every single day.  I was alone in my little crappy apartment I was going to lose and I felt as low as one can be.  I did have friends.  The boyfriend might have taken me back and might have let me live with him, but I thought that was a bad idea.  I found out my job was going away the day before I was to visit my father.  He picked me up at the airport and as we were driving along the shore with the sun shining and the water so blue and inviting, he asked, “Why are you fighting so hard to stay in ______?”  I did not have a good reason.  So I went back “home,” settled my affairs and left. 

I moved down to Florida to be with my father because I felt if I didn’t I would die.  I know that sounds dramatic, but that is how I felt.  I believed I was a danger to myself and others if I stayed with no support and no job.  It was either Florida or suicide. 

For a time, I believed (and told everyone else) that this was the best thing to have happened to me.  Who else has this kind of opportunity?  Who else can pack up just the bare essentials, leave the rest behind and never look back?  I have a once in a lifetime chance to get a new life.

But… I liked my old life.  I miss it.  I miss my husband and the life we had together. 

I miss living independently and spending time with the boyfriend making plans for our new life.

But I am here now.  I am making the best of it.  The job market here is no better or worse in my hometown.  I could not afford to live in that apartment anymore.  I am emotionally fragile and very, very vulnerable and I need the protection of my father’s household.  I need the mothering of my step-mother.  I am trying not to be a drain on the family, but I did need a place to crash.  I start a part-time job next week which will be at least some income and I can help contribute to the household.

Even though my family loves me, I can’t help but feel like a loser.  Because really, I have lost a lot.  I mean a lot….. Most of it wasn’t really “my fault” but it is still gone. 

Yes, it is beautiful down here and I am loved.   But I am still a little lost, a little frightened, but at least I am safe.  My family will not let me drown in troubles.  I needed to be rescued.

What I really need is Jesus and a Job.  More on that later.