Breathing room

I’ve spent the last 2 nights at my sister’s house and am feeling much less frantic. When I think of how I have to stay away from my home, my sanctuary, it makes me sad. But I can deal with sadness.

At least I no longer feel such overwhelming rage and helplessness. It’s like staying at home with Mark around was triggering my fight or flight response all the time. My first inclination was not to run away, but giving in to the “fight” response was going to get me in worse trouble than leaving.

Yesterday was a day I would normally telecommute from home. So I did. I had a gym appointment and I knew that by the time that was finished he’d be out of the house. I worked a bit at my sister’s house after getting up, went to the gym, and then continued on home. I spent the day working and a bit of time with the dogs, then I packed up food and clothing for next day and left before Mark returned.

Tomorrow I plan on doing the same thing, but will have to pack up enough clothing for more than a day since I don’t plan on returning to the house again until the weekend. I guess I’ll end up with my entire professional wardrobe over there by the time this is over.

Living with my sister has been quite pleasant so far. I get to see my niece and nephew a lot now, and I’m enjoying the camaraderie. With more than one competent cook in the house, cooking duties can be rotated, too, which is a great benefit.

Now that I have some breathing room, I won’t be pushing Mark along through the process, either. Mark can be incredibly deliberate, plodding, and downright stubborn about getting all the time he needs to take action on something. Me pushing at him only increases his stubbornness, which is counter-productive for my purposes. Allowing him some time to figure things out on his end is necessary (unfortunately), and I just couldn’t do that while I was feeling so desperate.

Maybe…possibly…this can be over by the end of February and I can move back into my house again. I really hope so. I jokingly told my sister that I’d be living there for the next 6 months. As much as she may love me and be supportive, I don’t think she’d like that very much. Neither would I.


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