I just made an appointment with a "psy".
My voice shook a little during the call. My new "confidante" was very kind, answered my questions, and since this is the first time I've even gotten this far with acknowledging my problems (due to an over-excess of pride no doubt), she explained to me that yes, she was trained in helping people like me.
When I put the phone down, I burst into tears.
I have come to a point where I don't recognise myself anymore. I have lost the brave woman who travelled around Europe by herself. That chick who used to make decisions and work towards them.
I want her back.
I may talk tough here (or at least, I used to), but in real life, I have descended into a spiral of lack of motivation, lack of foresight, lack of standing up for myself in the real world, lack of everything a responsable adult needs in order to survive in this world that scares me a bit. When I see hobos in the street, I can't help thinking that if I let this thin thread of tarnished silver unravel further, I might become one of them.
This downward spiral has been ten years in the making. Ever since I landed here. I won't say that it's France's fault. What I will say is that my life as I know it today has been worn down by the cares and woes of simultaneously learning how to be an adult while living in a country that wasn't the one that I was brought up in. Learning a language, having children, learning social mores, working the day job and dealing with all the technical details that that entails while all the time trying to figure out my creative, yet frustrated, artsy side... has (or had?) ground me down, encouraged inertia, has been making me bitter and a very difficult person to live with.
And as such, I have embittered the person that I live with, perhaps to a point of no return.
Sigh. The marriage? About two inches above a scrap heap. Our arguments are becoming more and more down and dirty (and they were already impressive to begin with: alas, our turrible tempers). Our friends are barraged by too much transparency of where things are heading, dismaying them and promoting awkwardness... and no, it is not myself who engages in this activity and I'm not sure what is to be gained by this... unless... the saying of the words mean that that is where things will definitely go. Prophetic-like. How powerful are words when circulated and does saying the words aloud to all and sundry indicate that the point of no return has already been reached?
For my part, and perhaps foolishly, I do not intend to go down without fighting because, for what it's worth, I love my husband deeply. An irony that I can appreciate is that while I'm told that one of the reasons for an eventual separation is my lack of assertiveness, the fact that I intend to "fake it 'til we make" is cause for much annoyance. Though I realise that if I do truly love him, maybe I just need to let him go. No matter how much that scares me. Maybe it really is for the best.
Whatever the outcome, I want to gain my old spirit back. I want to feel confident again.
I want to become a better person. Hell, it's high time I stopped navel gazing. It is time to step back to take stock and figure out how to move forward.
If nothing else, working out the knots in my brain will make me a better parent.
I can't keep chasing my tail forever. I can't keep dwelling on the difficulties of the past.
The time has come.