It seems like all of the profound thoughts that I thought would make a great blog post have vanished somewhere, and I can’t quite lay my typing fingers on them at this moment.
There was something about feeling like I’m in the waiting room, and I’m not what I’ll see on the other side of the door when my name is called.
This is mostly about my job uncertainty, I believe.
But really, aren’t we all always in the waiting room, waiting on the next, unexpected thing just on the other side of the door? Most of the time we don’t realize it, we just go along with life without thinking about it.
But we never really know what’s around the next corner, do we?
About eleven months ago, I posted about this waiting room feeling, though I likened it more to being suspended in the air. I had a lot of questions then about what the next few months would bring. I had no idea.
Right now I am living in that suspended space. It feels like almost everything is in a waiting mode-Mr. X is looking for a job, our house goes on the market next week. Will our house sell? Will we have to wipe out our savings to be free of the house? Where will we be living in six months? What kind of job will I get? Will we end up in the same city with all of his family? If so, will they drive me over the edge? Will things get better in our marriage? Will we be able to afford IVF? When could we start IVF? Will I find friends?
So many of these questions aren’t even relevant to my life today. IVF is about the furthest thing from my mind right now. I think about the person who wrote those questions, so hopeful, so naive. I was aware of being in the waiting room but what was on the other side of the door was nothing I really could have imagined at that point. I never ever ever thought that I would make that journey through fire and come out on the other side knowing I was better off without Mr. X. I never dreamed that less than a year from writing that post I would be divorced. I never fathomed that a mere month and a half after posting those questions, I would be preparing to leave my marriage.
Right now I’m in suspension again, but it doesn’t feel nearly as desperate as it did a year ago. Maybe going through the fire helped me learn that I can survive a lot, that I’ll be okay in the end, no matter what I find on the other side of the door when they call my name.