Thursday, November 10, 2011
the papers are filed, and it's good to see
The first time I went yesterday, I had to pick up papers at a judge's office, then had to go to the clerk's office and pay lots of money. Then the man tells me that I have to "re-serve" John, and that his signed, dated, and notarized copy of the Defendant's Affidavit doesn't count because it was done before today when things became "official." I clarify this about three times, attempt to negotiate my way into still being able to file it, and then choke back my tears when I realize it's futile and I will have to make another trip back. The emotional roller coaster of thinking I will be done and then being told that no, I'm still attached, is horrible. The first time I was sent away from the office with nothing of importance filed, I bawled for an hour. This time, I swallowed a lot of saliva and managed while I drove 45 minutes one way to where John was so he could get it re-notarized.
And then I went back to the clerk's office. This was the third time. I paid more money, signed more papers, and then...I walked out. Done. I have often wondered how I would react to things being finalized. While it's still not "finalized" until the judge has signed the papers, my part is finalized (hopefully, I really don't want a letter stating I need to come in again because I messed something up!). All I do now is wait and pray. And I thought that when I got to this point, I would cry and grieve the loss of being married to one person forever again. But...I'm not. When I walked out of that secured building and into the Autumn air, I looked around and it was just like the first time I ever wore contacts. Everything was crisper, brighter. The colors more intense, the details more noticeable.
Everything else ended a long time ago now. I had years to digest that my marriage was doomed (although right up until the moment I left, I hoped for something different), years to grieve the loss of my spouse as I saw him fade further and further away from myself and our relationship. The trauma of leaving (fear, uncertainty) ended shortly after we made that transition. The things that bound me to a relationship like that--subjugation and unrelenting standards--was my main focus after I felt safe after leaving, and those things were resolved after a few weeks of intense dedication. I am in a fantastic place now psychologically, emotionally, and mentally (come on, body! Get in shape and join the party!). And now, the last step is almost complete. Within three weeks, 10 months after we left, I will be legally married no longer.
There is so much more to sight than seeing, and it is so good to know that my entire self will get to be alive for the rest of my life now.
Thank you, Jesus. I like to see.