Pessimism and Reality Rear their Respective Heads

I had a great swim today, that’s four days in a row, just like before the pool closed for maintenance. I’m a bit sore, but plan to go tomorrow and Saturday.

I am so stressed about this trial that I actually felt like having a drink today. I didn’t, mainly because I look at it as a huge waste of money, and who wants to drink alone? It always sounds better than it actually is and alcohol is a depressant and I don’t need that.

As I was getting my make up on getting ready to go to the kids center my husband called to tell me that his attorney wants to see me on Monday to be prepped for trial which is schedule for later in the week. He also said that they made him an offer that is so low it’s mind boggling. He said it’s all done to demoralize us and not to let it get to me. But it has gotten to me.

I feel so foolish now.

For the millionth time with this man I allowed myself to dream big and experience a lot of exciting “what ifs.” But for most of today I convinced myself that my share of his settlement money will not be enough for me to use to move out of here let alone allow me to start my business. I am so sad.

I guess this is my mind’s way of preparing myself for the worst case scenario. I already know there will be some money because the man being sued has already admitted he broke the law. My husband’s attorney needs to convince the jury that it was a bad enough experience to warrant a large settlement. The saddest part here is that if we were still together it would be twice as much money for us to use as a couple.

But c’mon, I know the money would trickle through his fingers. I would not be able to stand by and watch that happen. I’d rather take a lesser amount and see what I can do with it alone. He’s got so many extended hands to deal with.

But what’s made me sad, besides that my business may have to start very small indeed, is that I may not be able to move out. I am at a breaking point here so this is not good news. I was fantasizing about my own place. I want it so bad I can taste it. I want a counter to set my escargot pan on.

The truth is no one knows how it will go next week and if I could just somehow make myself stop thinking about it, I would. It’s out of my hands and no matter how much the settlement is I must find a way to make the most of it.

I allowed myself to imagine the largest amount and now I’m resigning myself to the smallest amount. The actual amount will probably be somewhere in the middle, and that will have to work for me.

When I was done at the kids center I found myself really wound up. I texted my husband and he called me and calmed me down just like he always used to. He’s good at that. I knew I should not settle into old ways, but my anxiety got the best of me. These are roles we know well. I will miss him when he’s gone. The past few months he’s been the man I thought I knew. The man who seemed to have vanished. I’m glad he’s back, but I will never get over the pain he caused me.

After this trial I don’t have to be on this never ending roller coaster of dreams being out of reach. I will be firmly planted in reality (peppered wit a reasonable amount of hope) and I’ll be okay with that. My husband always said that “reality” is a dirty word and he put me down for being “realistic.” But it’s where I want to be. I look forward to the day when I can get off this ride. The real world is interesting enough for me.

As I was thinking about having a cocktail to curb my anxiety I realized I’d rather swim than have a drink. And today, while I swam I was thinking about how feeling physically strong makes me feel strong in general. I love that I have energy to do pretty much anything I want to do.

While I swim I think about the dozens of body parts and muscles that are being used at once, including my heart muscle. I feel it everywhere. It is magnificent.

Don’t get me wrong, while I do swim for an hour, I often take a few seconds of a break at the end of the lap. I won’t win any races. But in the scheme of a community pool, I’m in the middle and that’s not a bad place to be at 57, and someone who has never really exercised consistently. I feel incredibly proud of that and I love how it makes me feel. I wish I had done it all my life, but that’s okay. I’m doing it now.

I move differently now. I hated how I was beginning to move as a morbidly obese person — I’m not kidding. I was waddling and bumping into things. I couldn’t judge where I ended. I could not even sit in a booth in a restaurant! I love the flexibility I have and the coordination and strength even though I’m far from thin.

I feel reasonably confident that my weight will soon be back in my control and that weight loss will continue, but very slowly. I’m okay with that. I feel fantastic.

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