Revelations

It's been a good, busy week. I prefer full schedules to being free, unless I'm on vacation. Busy for me means meeting deadlines and completing a scheduled task. But being a successful multi-tasker doesn't mean my mind doesn't have time to think outside the schedule. I'm so damn good that I can do two thinking things at one time - provided only one requires a solution - not both.

Anyways, after 5 days, I realised that I have been stuck in a relationship that doesn't offer me anything at all. Imagine that. It took me 16 years to realise that and make some decision on it.
I asked myself, if I was basically stupid or just plain ignorant of what makes a relationship work - it's neither, because when I search my mind, I remember the reasons I got married - and none of it came from the standard checklist.
Whatever it was that compelled me to get that piece of paper, was not on the SOP, and because it was never written down by anyone in a successful relationship, it didn't have a chance to work in the first place - so am I still the one to be blamed?
For 16 years, I have emotionally supported myself, intellectually supported myself, financially supported myself and definately, did not require to be physically engaged as a reason. I didn't know how much this would bother me - that I'm a sucker for strays, and may just do better doing animal shelter work.
Getting the papers drawn is a piece of cake - because for me, I draw up papers all the time - it's just another thing to get out of the way.

I just cannot deal with the fact that I have failed to take care of myself, thereby allowing another person to take full advantage of my good nature and ability to be self-maintaining.
I don't bother about stigmas or whatever it is that people attach to other people who file for more than one divorce - but I bother that I made the same mistake twice - that as important as I place other people/friends in my life according to where they fit in, I have blatently omitted myself in this equation. Do I subconsciously detest myself so much that what I need is never important enough? Is that me? Always more bothered if the cat ate, or that the bird is comfortable, or that everyone receives their pay-check on time, or that they have eaten but never about what I need for my sanity.

It's pathetic, that this doesn't even have priority because I slipped in a thought or two in-between building 4 concept papers for the conferences. We need to have some priority in our lives for ourselves - because that's like a time-out.

Revelations are tough to swallow, but prozac won't do it now because I want to be fully conscious when I conclude this session with my thoughts.