Otherwise

I guess all I can do is try to be myself and . . . write more.

I'm re-reading Eat, Pray, Love where Gilbert quotes Sheryl Louise Moller  - "Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth."

Watching Polley's movie, I realize that we don't often do that as women. We are shut up in our marriages and habits and we are often in denial. The truth makes things harder to bear, materially, I think. My mother just coasted along inside her head, accepting her marriage as the vehicle that supported her . . . and living quietly within its confines. I can see that I have been trying to do the same.

My husband is preoccupied with his first family and A and I are ignored most of the time. We share a living space and snippets of superficial conversations . . . and that's about it. Intimacy isn't easy for him. I'm starving.

His ex-wife had affairs. That's not my M.O., but I do need something.

I do need more.

What can I do to survive until I can surmise what to do about this all?

I can . . .

-be open to the possibility of this getting better
-be a good mother
-live as authentically as possible
-focus on my own work and pleasure
-try to expand my social circle

Keep thinking about it. Keep trying. One foot in front of the other.