Tag Archives: #divorce

Puffy Fluff

A happy little BFL cloud from a fleece I started processing this week.

I needed softness this week. Not sure if it was the time change, the full moon, the retrograde, or simply the realities of being a single mother going through a contentious divorce from someone who, well, let’s just say the divorce is merited. Times like these push the worst of my perfectionist buttons. Not only am I struggling in general, I’m facing deliberate headgames and nonsense from an ex who knows just where to cut at me, and, what’s worse, I’m beating myself up for not being perfect through all the chaos.

I can’t help the struggles. Struggles come and go, and that’s how I become stronger. As tempting as the idea can seem sometimes, I can’t really imagine a life without challenges. The older I get, the less I shy away from facing things that scare me, stress me, or push me to level up in some way. This is a tall order as a person with anxiety, but it’s usually worth the risk. The headgames, well, we’re getting a divorce. He’ll keep doing his stuff, and I’ll keep using it to validate all the reasons why a divorce is so very necessary, and has been for a very long time, though I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want a divorce, but I’m starting to understand that it’s the best possible option for me and my children. Living in known toxicity was so draining for all of us; we understand this in terms of chemicals and lead in the water, but leaden emotional connections are just as damaging. We’re so much happier already. I will that would continue, and that we’d keep moving away from unnecessary mess and drama toward a fulfilling, meaningful life. Maybe someday he’ll choose to join us there, but that’s none of my business anymore and I’m done giving him eleventy chances to be decent.

The part of this I can control is that internal monologue that adds a bonus “…and it’s because you suck.” to everything. Side effect of several relationships where I allowed others to blameshift sole responsibility for shared suck onto me. I’m not a perfect person, not by a long stretch, but I’m a decent human. I learn, I change, I put in good work, and I’m committed to evolving and improving until I die (and hopefully that’s some time off still). Part of that has got to be growing a stronger sense of self-worth so I don’t join Team KateHate when people around me try to project their mess onto me. This has been a recurring theme for years now, and I’m still working on it. It’s hard to be soft. It’s hard to be gentle with myself when I fuck up, especially when my mistake(s) get twisted into a narrative that says I’m the only cause of a problem (I am responsible only for my piece). I’m fairly good at seeing my own mistakes and taking responsibility for them, and I need to learn how to do that without shaming and guilting myself for being a human and making mistakes.

And so, this week, I tried to practice softness. To ask for what I needed in a way that respected what I was going through. I had to push back a couple projects, call off a social event, and spend extra time wrangling my tangled brain, and I tried not to give myself guilt and grief for taking the time I needed. I give to EVERYONE, even people who never reciprocate, and it’s time I showed myself the same generosity. I deserve to take gentle, loving care of me, too.

For this week’s wool washing, I picked a “treat fleece” I’d been hoarding. It’s a squishy little BFL, and beautiful, and I’ve been saving it because it’s special. I needed something special just for me, so I decided to open it up and start processing it. It did not disappoint! I have a project in mind for this one, and it’s all for me. Not for work, not for others, not for sale, just for me. I so rarely give that to myself, and I deserve the same care I show others. While I work through this fleece, I’m going to look at all the weird obstacles to self-care that my brain likes to throw in my way, and see what I can do about softening them. There’s a related story about how sobriety has made this so much easier, but I’ll get to that another day. For now, have some fleece progress pics.

Pre-soaking the dirty “fleece noodles”
Scoured and still soggy
Pretty purls to play with

Bit By Bit

And so I begin. Again.

I am late to my Friday post. Apologies. It has been a long week. Dusted off the Aura (literally and otherwise) and decided to begin. Again. I’ve done this before. My hands remember.

Went to court this week to file a response to a proceeding that should never have been filed in the first place. The “don’t wannas” are strong, but I am stronger. I remember this. Grateful for a past life as a paralegal and the functional knowledge of legalese still stored in a dusty corner of my brain. Guess I’d better dust that off, too.

Got up too early this morning to go to the vet with my pup, and then home for a half-day with the kids, and then back to get puppers (she’s fine, but my wallet might die). Alternated between feeling frantic and frazzled, and feeling a sense of calm and gratitude. These are hard things that seem simple; nothing is easy when you’re doing major life-shifting work. I am doing all of these things.

I am tired.

As always, I return to the wheel and the wool. Bit by bit, it all comes together. Bit by bit, the next steps are revealed. Bit by bit, it starts to make sense as a whole.

Untangling The Skein

Pulled this little lovely out of its storage bag. Now I need to reclaim it.

It’s a lovely wheel. It really is. I remember when I bought it. At the urging of my incredibly-talented late friend, Maiysha, I acquired a second wheel. My first was the CS2 I sold last week. It was a good wheel, and perfect for the art-yarn styles of spinning I was interested in, but I wanted something I could do more with, and the CS2 isn’t a good wheel for thin spinning. So… this creature. It’s a Majacraft Aura. It’s lovely, truly. It’s just… Well, it has baggage.

The wheel was kinda sort of a gift from my almost-ex. I say “almost” because we’re not technically divorced yet. It’s complicated, just like my relationship to this wheel. It wasn’t really a gift. Not in the traditional sense. It was timed to arrive around our “wool anniversary”. I told a pretty story about how he’d gotten it for me, and how darling that was. But that’s what it was: a story. The reality was that the wheel was acquired, like so many things, in an attempt to soothe a hurt, and patch a wound, and fill a hole that was only getting deeper by the year. By year seven, our marriage was basically dead in the water. But I continued to prop it, and him, up, and puppet the dead stories around as if there were life in them still. And to prop myself up, to fortify myself against the crushing weight of the sadness and loneliness and deadness in my own being, I bought things. Like the things could make me happy somehow…

Now he’s gone (again). And so are a lot of the things, habits, people and patches for old holes I now have to actually mend. I want to be able to just freely enjoy the dang thing, but I never have. It’s why I fought with the CS2 to spin thinner than it was designed for. The CS2 was something I bought for myself without pretense or a story or a need to convince myself I had an actual happy life and decent partner… a role he possibly never wanted to play anyway. The CS2 didn’t have feelings. This thing definitely does, if not in and of itself, then certainly by virtue of all I’ve projected onto it. And so, like so much of the unraveling and reclaiming I’ve had to do since my husband abandoned the children and I again, I have to confront the reality of this object, as it actually is, and decide what I’m going to do about it.

When my not-yet-ex abandoned us the first time, I found ChumpLady and her brilliant post Untangling the Skein of Fuckedupedness, and I felt seen. I have spent well over a decade of my life trying to decode and unravel and understand the manipulative, abusive, neglectful, hurtful, damaging behaviors that existed in my marriage. I wanted to solve the problem. I think that’s fair, and my intentions were good. I wanted to create the life I wanted for myself and my children and my “happy family”. I wanted it so badly I was willing to lie to myself about what it actually was, and go to great lengths to spin fantastic tales about how things could appear to be, but actually weren’t. The end result, of course, was that I was chronically exhausted in ways I didn’t even realize until he left again and I finally decided to STOP.

So, what to do with that now? Where does the story go from here, and how will it end? And that’s where this tired Yarnie finds herself today: what new yarn to spin from this mess? The only thing I know is that I’ve finally given up hope of untangling that messy skein. It’s not my work to do, and I’d never succeed, no matter how much effort I sank into that work. The owner of that skein of fuckedupedness may like it just the way it is. It’s not for me, and so I move forward, ready to spin my own yarn. Hopefully in a healthier, less codependent way this time.

In less metaphorical news, here’s some actual yarn.

Little Fluffy Clouds

This week’s washed wool: A lamb Cotswold

I sold a wheel this week. Life circumstances are such that I needed the funds more than I needed the wheel. It was an Ashford Country Spinner 2, the first wheel I’d purchased for myself after learning to spin. I learned on a Louet S10, graciously loaned to me by a kind neighbor who taught me how to use it. The CS2 was easier for the art-type yarns I’d fallen in love with making, but has the same tension system as the S10. It was a good wheel, and I enjoyed using it right up to the day I sold it. Its new owner seems to have already fallen in love with it, and named it after me, which was really sweet.

Things here have been tricky lately. There’s a lot going on in my personal life that I don’t blog about, and it tends to muck with my plans in many unfortunate ways. I try to remain hopeful that this, too, shall pass, and that there will be a better normal at some point in the not-to-distant future. For my part, I’m grateful that I’ve established routines and habits that nurture and support me and my family. As a single mom, it’s always a challenge to meet everyone’s needs. For so many years, my needs got pushed aside, or put on “as resources are available” status. No more. Prioritizing my health, in all facets, is critical to the health and well-being of my entire family.

Still haven’t quite figured out how The Yarnicorn is going to fit into that picture. I love what I do, but I worry it may not be enough. For now, I wash the wool, I spin the yarn, I keep up with the industry news… With so much in flux, I really do have to just wait and see. There’s a lot going on behind the scenes. I’m excited to see what it may become.