life – Page 6 – A Graceful Catastrophe

Only the Beginning

July 26, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

 How long can you wait for the one you deserve?
Light on, never let it out, never let it out
If I'm gone, if you ever leave I hope that you learn
To fight on, to fight on

Don't tell me this is all for nothing
I can only tell you one thing
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere

I see everything you can be
I see the beauty that you can't see
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere 

- Outnumbered
Dermot Kennedy

As much as I’d like to think that I’m hardened against the world and I’m protecting my heart from any kind of future pain, I just cannot deny who I am.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I always have been. Now I know I always will be. If this catastrophe (and yes, you lovelies that continue to read my blog, cringe all you want at that word, that’s exactly what occurred in my life 130 days ago, by definition. And hey, thanks for being a reader, by the way! *wink*) didn’t break me from believing true and beautiful love exists, that someone will treasure me and respect me one day, then nothing will. It’s who I am to my core, I guess, a beautifully naive and hopeless romantic.

It’s one part of my essence that was not altered. And I’m truly grateful for it.

But, it means that I cry whenever I hear this song. Like, ugly cry. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if I hear this song, it’s over.

Because I want so desperately to believe it’s true.

So many of my nights, I feel outnumbered. I feel the weight of this chapter putting so much pressure on me that it physically affects me. And some days – goodness, so many days – it takes all my energy just to stay upright.

Since hearing this song, though, my perspective is starting to shift slightly. When it all feels so heavy that I just don’t want to get out of bed, I now think of these lyrics. Somebody out there is meant for me. And he will help to remind me of who I am on the dark days that I forget.

How long can I wait for the one I deserve?

A lifetime, if I have to.

I’m on a path I never expected to be on, really. Our marriage was crap for a long time, I just never thought it’d ever really end. I figured we’d finally decide to fight for it. And when I did, it was too little, too late. He was already long gone – I just hadn’t realized it yet.

So now, I have this journey to go on that I’ve finally started to embrace. I mean, it is what it is, so may as well make the best of it. So, now, my philosophy is: if it makes me nervous, I say yes. If I hesitate for any reason, I know that I must jump in with both feet and I muster all the energy and confidence I have to actually go through with it. But I do it.

And because this is now my attitude, amazing things have happened! I’ve met the most incredible people and have had the loveliest of connections. I’ve gone on midnight motorcycle rides that have taken me places I’ve never been, hiked a mountain with strangers, some of whom became people I want to learn as much about as I can and would be so sad if they weren’t in my life anymore, and I’ve had countless other encounters that have filled my soul.

And this is only the beginning.

One of my favorite things about this journey so far is that I’ve learned that people are good. Honestly. I learned that. I used to be so skeptical and ready to mistrust. Now, I have this incredibly beautiful faith in humanity once again.

My energy is changing and it’s changing for the better. This whole attitude of saying yes and just truly living in the moment has inspired a sense of freedom I don’t think I’ve ever had. And I’m getting rather addicted to it.

I’ve never felt stronger, braver, or more empowered. I am showing my daughter that even though we may fear something, it doesn’t mean we avoid it. On the contrary, it means we embrace it wholeheartedly. That never used to be my philosophy. I used to be so cautious. So incredibly cautious that I think I stopped actually living. I stopped enjoying the moments and being silly and free. I’m sure that absolutely impacted my marriage. (But I also had to always be on point, always the consistent parent, always the responsible one. There really wasn’t much balance or sharing of the parenting responsibilities, which was exhausting.)

Actually, now that I just wrote that, something so obvious just struck me. Life changes us. Okay, duh. I told you it was obvious. Seriously, though, without even realizing it, one day we are somebody we don’t recognize. Someone stuck in the rut of life. We slowly become the person we need to be in the situation at hand. Okay, maybe not everyone gets stuck, but I surely did.

I’ve always been strong, a bit reckless, and someone who desires adventure.

But life changed me. Having a daughter being born so sick we almost lost her devastated me. Having a husband who had a hard time finding the line between responsible adult and perpetual 14 year old was exhausting. I felt I had to become someone else in order to maintain balance in our lives.

And now I have this life. One where I am free to be free.

One where I am free to be me.

And I refuse to lose myself again. It’s interesting, going through this journey at almost 40. The first time, when I left my first husband, I was in my late 20’s and I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of a partner, out of life. I really did. Now, though, it’s different. And I’m not so naive as to believe that in another 10 years, I won’t have an entirely new perspective and outlook on life. In fact, I hope to continue to grow and adapt and flourish.

So, how long will I wait for the one I deserve?

Well, here’s the thing. I now know what I deserve. I know what I want out of a partner. I know I want to chase down adventures with him and laugh and have deep, meaningful, and emotional conversations. I want to be with someone who is completely smitten by me and treasures me like the gem that I am, even in the moments…no, especially in the moments when I’ve temporarily lost my shine. I want to be with someone that helps me to flourish and blossom and I long to be in a relationship where we constantly elevate one another to the next level of awesomeness.

And the moment it all stops, I know to give it my everything, to devote my energy to the honest effort that a relationship deserves, and then to get out if it still is no longer fulfilling.

Life is simply too short to waste a second on something that, after thought, effort, and consideration, is still broken.

I have seen friends’ husbands who genuinely adore their wives. I know it exists. I know, in my heart and into the depths of my soul, that there is someone out there, ready to point out everything I can be and show me all the beauty that I can’t see.

And I will wait a lifetime for him if I have to, all the while having a blast solo, and saying yes to all the things that scare me.

So to quote Mark Groves, I will end with this:

"And just when you think it's the end, it will be the beginning. You will find someone who will learn the nuances of your soul. Who will be able to predict the tears on your cheek so they may catch them and turn them into a river of desire. They will break the cage that protects your heart so the same light that fills your cells can fill theirs. They will learn why you do everything you do so that in the fleeting moment of fear you will run to them. And if there should be moments of despair, you will land in their arms so they may carry you so high that the only fall you will experience will be in love."

I am not only trusting my journey, I’m skipping down my path with a joy in my heart and a strong conviction that all is unfolding as it should. (Well, the skipping and joy may not be there everyday, but I at least feel it on some days and for now, that is enough for me.)

So, with that same zealousness, I will no longer be here, merely existing. But I will live with more enthusiasm and zest than I have in years.

Because a great many adventures lie ahead in my future. This is only the beginning.

life

This is Real Life

July 21, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely sure what the “typical” or “normal” process is when trying to navigate life after catastrophe strikes. I just know what I’ve personally been experiencing and it makes me feel crazy. It feels like everything is extreme – the happiness I feel is just off the charts and wildly amazing and the sadness I feel makes me want to hide under my covers and never come out again.

I’ve drafted several blogs that I haven’t published, for a variety of reasons. Mostly, though, it’s because I just wanted to write and get it out of my head. Sometimes I worry that you will worry about me after reading my words.

I am okay. I will be okay.

And because I know this to be true about myself, I wanted to give you pieces of blogs I’ve written, just to show you exactly how all over the place my emotions are – and how quickly they change from moment to moment throughout the days and weeks.

Perhaps you’re dealing with your own stress and feel a bit “crazy,” too. Perhaps your feelings jump from one to the next to the next, from one extreme to the other, in a matter of hours – or even minutes.

You are not alone. You are not crazy. This is grief. This is real life.

The following draft was written 4 days ago:

Today was a really wonderful day. I woke up to a beautiful view, got an amazing workout in, worked a good bit, had a great doc appointment to try and get my leg issues/cramping under control so I can workout without pain again someday, and then got bonus time with my daughter in the evening. We went to listen to live music on the patio of a restaurant/bar with new friends, magnificent weather, and a perfect view of the mountains in the distance.

I sighed contentedly all day long.

It wasn't until a little after 7 pm that I realized the date. And you know what? I smiled. Four months ago, I was set free. I didn't realize it then. And sometimes I forget it now. But my whole soul has shifted. I feel like a whole new woman and I feel so much lighter.

The biggest change that I keep coming back to is how unafraid I am. I have no fear of rejection or of being hurt and let down by another person. Literally none. I have no fear about going places by myself. In fact, there are many times where I'm quite excited to go to a bar or restaurant solo.

I have met so many wonderful people. I have had conversations filled with substance. There have been many chats where I'm left chewing on the words for hours - and even days - afterwards.

I have met couples that renew my faith in the possibility of love. I have met strangers that have treated me more kindly than I've been treated in years. And these strangers have quickly turned into friends.

I'm reminded, almost daily, that people are good.

This was written just two days later, the night before last:

I wonder how long it'll be before I feel a sense of normality again. I wonder when my ex's words will stop hurting. I wonder how long it'll take before I stop internalizing the garbage he spews at me. I wonder how long before I can stop letting him get to me. I wonder when my emotions will stop fluctuating from the highest highs to the lowest lows.

I wonder when my eyes will stop being puffy from crying so much.

I wonder why, after 124 days, I still feel every minute detail of this pain.

I wonder when it will all stop feeling so heavy.

And then it occurs to me why it's all so dark. Actually, a friend pointed this out to me today. The awful part of our marriage, the incessant emotional abuse, hasn't stopped. And I can't block him from contacting me because he needs to be able to get in touch with me in case of an emergency with our daughter.

Our daughter.

The one that is around when he lashes out at me. The one that is there to hear all the ugliness spewing from his mouth. The one that, according to him, should hear it all because she should know "these things" about her mother.

So now I'm worried. The psychological and emotional trauma I have received over the last 6 or so years is not only being witnessed by our daughter, she's now on the receiving end of it, also.

I had to tell her that when daddy talks to mommy, she needs to plug her ears and go away.

Why do I have to say that to my daughter?!

I wonder...when will this all end? When will he leave me alone? I'm not his to attack anymore.

Well, I never was, but I allowed it for so long that it's now a natural way of treating me.

I no longer know what to do.

I'm sick of living in the dark.

The ups and the downs are constant. I spent most of lunch with a friend the other day crying. In public. Tears streaming down my face, shamelessly.

Because this is real life. People cry. They hurt and they feel pain. And they laugh through the tears and they get up every morning and brush their teeth and start their day, so they can hopefully catch a glimpse of joy during the day. Or hit the jackpot and have a banner day.

Like I did yesterday.

It seems as though so much of living used to intimidate me. Or maybe it was that I felt like I had to be this ultra responsible, no nonsense person to offer a counter balance to the lack of boundaries and relative irresponsibility of my ex. Looking back, I think I felt stifled, like I couldn’t be free to really be me because I always had to be the “responsible one.” So then I became the boring one.

I don’t have to be that person anymore! I can be free to be spontaneous and truly live! I am doing things now that I never would’ve done before – like going to places alone, chatting it up with strangers, going to outdoor bars to listen to music by myself (well, my daughter was with, too), and joining a random group of strangers to hike up a mountain together for over 8 hours.

This wave I’m riding is wild and turbulent. I fluctuate from feeling like I’m doing a killer job surfing it and am nailing this whole living life thing to feeling like the wave is drowning me.

Yet, I’m still here, riding that wave. I refuse to give up. I refuse to allow it to keep me down. I will not drown in the sea of my tears. I’m hopeful this sea will calm eventually, that the wave will be something like you’d perhaps find in a kiddie pool rather than in the middle of an ocean during a storm…I’m hopeful.

Some days it’s a little harder to have hope, it’s a wisp floating by that is just out of touch. Other days, it’s this big, fluffy, beautiful entity that embraces me and I don’t have to worry about trying to chase it down.

The moments fluctuate – constantly. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. It’s almost impossible to process, which is why I write. It’s why I see my therapist. It’s why I break down at lunch with a friend and then keep crying so much throughout the day that my eyes are still puffy the next morning. It’s why I find extreme joy in the little things and can’t help but exclaim, “Wow!” over and over again when I see the beauty that surrounds me. It’s why I get out of bed, out of my house, and go away as often as I can – even if it’s for a walk.

I want a sense of normalcy again, whatever that is.

It’s been 126 days now. There are days where the emotional exhaustion from just living the moments and riding this volatile wave are so heavy, that I physically feel it to the point that it is difficult to walk upright. I literally lean on things to help me take another step.

And there are other days where I feel so buoyant and light and free that I feel like I could just float away into the bliss that surrounds me.

Then there are those days where both those feelings take turns, bouncing from pure radiant joy to utter misery, within hours of each other. (Those days are great fun! *rolls eyes*)

If I take a step back, however, I realize this is all just a side-effect of living. If we are to live, to sincerely and authentically invest in our souls and live to our fullest potential, we all experience a wide range of emotions – throughout our day, the week, the year. Perhaps it is all just a bit more intense now, due to the nature of this beast that has temporarily taken up residence in my space.

Yes, temporarily. Nothing is permanent. This wave I’m riding surely isn’t.

And thankfully, little by little, I’m realizing that I’m not actually living in the dark, though at times it may feel as though it’s impossible to see an inch in front of me. The good days, the beautiful moments, are slowly starting to outshine the shadowy gloom. I’m carrying a flashlight that’s ready to illuminate my world in a wondrous glow.

I just have to remember to turn it on.

life, love

Basking in the Shit

July 15, 2019July 15, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely sure how many times I cried yesterday but tears were shed here and there for the majority of the day. Insult to injury because I just got my lashes done and you’re not supposed to get them wet for 24 hours. *sigh* It’s 8:35 am and I’ve cried a handful of times already this morning.

Yesterday, the trigger was that my week with my girl was over, she had to go to “daddy’s house.” I have spent virtually every single day of her life with her and now I’m forced to experience 50% of her life now. *cue the rainfall of tears again*

This all just sucks. So bad. My heart hurts for a million different reasons… (Ugh, I can’t see what I’m typing through the blur of my tears.) I still can’t believe this is now my life. In two days it will have been 4 months since finding out about my ex’s infidelity. It’s been 120 days. And I think I feel worse than than I did that catastrophic day – at 6:08 pm, March 17. In fact, I’d say I definitely feel lower now than I have in any of the last 120 days.

But I think I know why it’s worse now. I’m actually feeling now. I’m finally facing it. I was numb, in complete shock at first. I didn’t feel anything. And then I actively escaped for a while, avoiding facing my real life because how in the world is it that this is my real life??? That lasted for a good 2 or 3 months.

And now? My house is empty. My heart is empty. I feel a giant void within. I don’t want to feel that. How can one feel so lonely when surrounded by so much love?

I’m so sick of hurting.

I’m so sick of being triggered randomly.

I still want to run away.

And maybe I will. I mean, I only have my daughter every other week. Perhaps I should run away. I’m thinking a Thanksgiving adventure is a must. July 4 was super challenging. I cried and felt the sting of every second all day long. I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel without my girl that whole week. A week that is supposed to symbolize gratitude and family and love. Yep. I’m out. I’ll need a giant distraction for that one…

Until then, though, I’m here, swimming in the shit that no longer feels like it could be fertilizer (read my blog: Grateful for My Ex for the reference). It just feels heavy and dark and really, really toxic.

On the other hand, at least I’m feeling it. I’m no longer avoiding the pain. I know I have to ride this wave, process these negative emotions. If I keep shoving them aside, I’ll get nowhere but bitter. So as hard as this is, it’s finally time to face my reality. It just might mean that I’m going to have a harder time smiling a genuine smile now – and for a while. And that’s okay. I guess. This is part of the wave, part of the grief. And it sure doesn’t help that these next weeks are some of the worst of the year.

So, if you see me, understand that it feels like someone cut a huge part of me out. I feel vacant and hollow. I feel the enormous weight of this new life pressing upon me as though it were physically there, sitting on my shoulders.

But…I feel it.

And I think that’s progress.

It’s a bizarre place to be, though – feeling. Little things randomly cause such enormous pain. Hearing a husband call his wife, “my girl” with so much love and affection caused a lump to form in my throat and tears fell the second that I could turn away. The sadness feels almost unbearable at times.

Almost.

So, I wrote everything until now this morning, before heading out to work and then getting my hair done. I contemplated not posting it, leaving it as a draft as I have for 7 other blogs I’ve written, because it’s just so dark.

But you know what? So many of us have been here. This place where the sadness is so overwhelming it feels as though you’re drowning and you kind of don’t really mind – you want it to swallow you whole so the hurting can stop.

That’s where I was yesterday and this morning.

That’s not where I am now.

It’s a wave. A constant, fluid drifting of emotions. And I’m feeling them all. This blog is meant to be raw and real and a place for me to process. It also is turning into a place where my words resonate with some of you. So, why filter now?

Yes, I was in a dark place. No, it doesn’t mean I literally wanted to die or take on any direct action to hurt myself. I was just intensely sad.

But I didn’t let it consume me. Sure, I ate some cookies yesterday and went to the bar, solo, for a couple of margaritas (where I became fast friends with an incredible couple, married 29 years!). I also practiced self-care by going to the gym and then (FINALLY) getting my hair colored.

I feel like I’ve got this again. Am I still sad? Of course. Am I drowning in my tears? Nope. I won’t allow these negative emotions to consume me. I refuse to live in the dark place. So, I change my mindset. I focus on the good. I force myself to take direct action that will make my heart happy.

I allow myself to redefine this suck that I’m living in – and embrace it.

And I decide to turn the shit into fertilizer once again. And bask (using Google dictionary’s 2nd definition here: revel in and make the most of) in it. Because I know I am growing leaps and bounds every single day.

 Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger .
- Sara Evans

life, love

One Breath at a Time

July 11, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

Since I’ve had teeth, I’ve bitten my nails. Years ago, I made the decision to finally stop biting my nails – for the 34,000 time of my life – and finally succeeded.

Recently, I started biting my nails again. When I’m feeling highly anxious, my fall back habit since childhood is to bite my nails. You know I’m struggling internally when the skin around my thumbs are wrecked and I no longer have long, beautiful nails. Last night, I looked down at my hands and realized that not only are my nails gone, the skin around most of my fingers is looking pretty raw. Great. That looks attractive and feminine. *rolls eyes*

I’m riddled with anxiety and a million difficult emotions. Obviously. It’s been less than 4 months since my ex’s lovely emailed me and broke the news of the double life. I’m still being randomly blindsided by new feelings of betrayal that slowly simmer into awareness.

But this next month just makes everything worse.

On July 7th, 9 years ago, our friends gathered the three of us at their place and proposed to us, telling us we were going to be married in exactly one month and every detail was either already planned or in the process of being arranged.

On July 12, 2002, I married my first husband. That relationship ended after being together for almost 10 years and the divorce finalized in August of 2008.

On July 21st, 2009, my ex’s birthday, he proposed to me – in the sweetest and most perfect of ways.

On August 7, 2009, I married my now ex in the most fantastic wedding ceremony a bride could dream of – our friends really pulled together an incredible celebration of love.

So, these last few days and the coming weeks are all just painfully awful reminders of failure. I have no clue how to have a successful marriage, how to love and be loved in the ways of fairy tales (which do exist because I see the evidence of fairy tale bliss in my friends’ marriages all around me), or how to be enough of everything necessary to maintain a successful (romantic) relationship.

I just want to run away and come back in September, when all of the pain isn’t magnified by the memory of these dates.

It’s funny. If you were to have seen me today, you wouldn’t have guessed that I was struggling. I put a smile on. I look out to the world with eyes that shine. Because what else am I to do? Allow myself to actually fall into the abyss? Never. I worry that it’d be far too much effort to climb back out. I worry that the grip of this great sadness and the weight of my failures would overtake me. So I fight it. Fake it ’till I make it. I absolutely refuse to allow this chapter of my life to take this smile off my face – even if it’s fake.

But, the truth of the matter, guys, is that, for the most part, it is fake. And it has been for the vast majority of the last 116 days. Sure, I get crazy happy with the “good” in my world but I think it’s because I’m so desperately craving good. No matter how minutely small, I feel it to my core and it absolutely thrills me. Those moments are real. They’re also fleeting.

I’m also fiercely desperate for validation. Logically, I know that I create my own worth. I validate myself and I am enough.

Logically.

Emotionally, the massive feeling of emptiness is breathtaking, really. The void that I’m trying to fill within is far greater than I think I can even begin to comprehend. I’m so grateful that I have an extraordinary therapist to help me work through all these tangled emotions because there is no way I could do this on my own.

And with his help, I hope to one day be able to answer these questions: How on earth do I come back from this? How do I repair the damage within? How in the world do I believe my heart if it tries telling me it’s in love? TWO failed marriages, my friends. And both husbands ended up being manipulative and verbally and emotionally abusive. I saw the warning signs in the first, but failed miserably to see them in the second. I truly suck at this game.

But…I want to be loved again. I just don’t think I’d ever trust myself of being capable of choosing correctly. But then again, I’ll never hurt like this again, so why overthink it all? And it’s not even been 4 full months, so it’s not like there’s anything to worry about in this moment. But I think about it anyway…

So then I fall further down this rabbit hole of over-analyzing everything in my world – do I want to be loved again because I am so hungry for validation? Because I ache for the day that I am enough for another? Because I fancy the fairy tale story, too?

Am I looking for love for all the wrong reasons? The precious little seed of love doomed before it even has a chance to blossom? Why on earth am I even looking?!

Goodness…sometimes it’s all just a bit too much. I know I want to run away. I also know that I cannot. Running would never be an option.

So, I feel it all. I try, in vain, to make sense of it all.

I am hopeful that I will look back on these days and understand they launched me into a wild and wonderful future. Until then, there’s nothing much else to do. So I plaster a smile on my face. And then I take my next breath.

life, love

Grateful for My Ex

July 8, 2019July 8, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

If my ex had never cheated on me, I would never have had the opportunity to be who I am today.

So I’m grateful.

How on Earth can I be grateful that my ex betrayed me, you ask? Well, just keep right on reading and you’ll quickly find out.

The other day, I was having dinner with a friend and she fluffed my feathers so much that I’m not entirely sure how I was able to walk out of that restaurant. We met at the gym somewhere around 2 or so months before my world exploded, I think. She says it was around February when we really started to get to know one another, as our friendly competitiveness started to ignite. So, she knew the “old” me, the “married with a child” woman, but also the gym version of the old me, so also pretty confident and semi-outgoing.

Since March 17th, we’ve become incredibly close and she is one of my top “go to” people. She’s been there for me every single day, ready to catch me at any moment, and also has been the one to boldly call me out when I needed it. She’s insightful, supportive, and caring and to say I’m grateful for her is an understatement.

So just the other day, she, once again, (both literally and figuratively) picked me up and proceeded to say all the right things. And I love the analogy she gave.

She said that when she first met me, talking about the “me before,” she could see I had this fire within. Yet, it was small and controlled. Beautiful and radiant, though reserved and perhaps a bit protected, but you could still see it, as though looking at a small campfire through a transparent glass covering.

She said that now I’m like this uncontrolled wildfire that is igniting the world around me. The true essence of who I am, who I want to be, is finally able to flourish. The glass covering has been removed and the spark set alight all that I had allowed to die – there’s no stopping me now. There is nothing to stifle me, and I am no longer living in someone else’s shadow.

You see, my ex is a true extrovert. The life of the party. My ex is just so full of life and fun, and for a long while, complete and utter irresponsibility, there had to be someone to balance that all out. I was still me, still fun, just a subdued, and at times, highly irritable, version of me. Without realizing it, I allowed myself to fall into the roll of “responsible mom” and “boring wife.” And it’s exhausting being the only consistent parent, the one working hard to raise a child that had darn well better be greatly beneficial to society.

My ex didn’t make the greatest “parent partner.” Not only did he travel often, he just wasn’t ever consistent or that into doing the “parenting” part. He was the fun dad. So, since my goal was to raise an exceptional human, and I wasn’t getting that much help from my spouse, that’s where all my energy went. Don’t screw up at being a mom was on repeat in my head. I couldn’t be anything else, it was far too exhausting to be anything but the stable and responsible one.

Now, he has given me freedom. My ex has to be the responsible one now, too. And I can finally figure out who in the hell I really am. I’ve played roles for so many years, but never really fully “being,” anyone. I was merely existing. And, guys, ugh…man, was I ever afraid. I was intimidated by the world around me. I was comfortable in my role, being the hard working teacher, the good mom, the responsible, rule following woman. Anything outside of my comfort zone made me super nervous.

Then, March 17th at 6:08 pm, my world became incredibly uncomfortable. And there was nothing I could do about it. My new reality hit me like a complete shit storm and I was covered in it for a while. Through the storm, though, I’m coming out stronger. It’s like it ended up being fertilizer and I’m growing like crazy. *get it? hahaha*

I’m no longer afraid. My interactions with the world have completely changed. My friend told me something along the lines that I put out this energy that attracts others – it’s like I’m glowing and they are drawn to the warmth of my light. (See? I told you she super fluffed my feathers.)

And it’s true. She’s absolutely right. No matter where I go, it seems, I either know someone or I find myself talking with someone new within a few minutes. These interactions add so much value to my life! And I am so incredibly thankful for each new encounter because every new experience is helping to shape who I am, helping me to rise above who I once was, and blossom into this marvelous new being.

There’s a song on my playlist that is purposely on there to remind me to be grateful for my ex, for throwing me into this new world of mine. The song is A Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans. Every single time I hear it, a huge smile spreads across my face. Here are the lyrics that are the most meaningful to me:

I know my heart will never be the same
But I’m telling myself I’ll be okay
Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger…
Getting along without you baby
I’m better off without you baby…
I’m getting stronger without you baby”
Sara Evans – a little bit stronger

It’s all so true. I am a new me, thanks to him, and I am getting along okay without him and I know I’m better off without him. Even on my weakest days, I’m fearless. He has given me the gift of fearlessness! Guys, I’m not even kidding – I wouldn’t go to Target after dark, for fear that something awful and catastrophic would happen… *facepalm*

Now, something awful and catastrophic has happened. And guess what? I survived. Not only am I surviving, it has ignited something within that is truly beautiful.

I go to restaurants and bars alone now. Happily. And I hike alone. Super happily! And I even go to Target after dark now. (Shocking, I know.) I approach someone that I want to talk to, without fear or concern, which has led me to engage in a multitude of interesting conversations.

All of these experiences are shaping me. They’re helping me grow into my true self. This is all helping me to discover who I am, who I want to be, and what ignites my fire within. I am not who I once was and I’m so grateful to my ex for that.

I am stronger now than I ever was. And I’m fearless. Because nothing will hurt me like I’ve been hurt. No rejection will be as painful as this has been. For those of you who have been shattered – you understand how freeing this feeling is. Will I fall again? Will life come at me sideways again? Of course! But I now know I am strong enough to stand up and face whatever the universe decides to throw at me. My flame is far too great and has spread into every corner of my world…there’s no dousing this wildfire.

So, ex husband of mine, since I know you read these “articles,” as you call them, thank you. Thank you for putting my entire world into such a tailspin that I lost myself so completely that I had to figure out who in the hell I really am. Thank you for putting me into a situation where I could become fearless.

Thank you for shattering the glass dome that was keeping my flame from growing. Thank you for igniting this wildfire. I will be forever grateful for your actions because without them, I would never have had to dig out from the depths of despair and rise above. I would’ve never had the opportunity to discover this new and fearless me.

This wildfire is spreading and igniting all that it touches.

And from the ashes, “I am getting stronger without you, baby.”

And to your lovely, thank you for taking the time to read my blog – hopefully this one isn’t “too preachy” and “almost unreadable.” *wink*

life, love

Darling

July 5, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

So I have this friend and whenever we have a few drinks, we get all sorts of deep and philosophical. Now, I fully enjoy having deep conversations and crave that kind of mental exercise, but the couple times we’ve talked, my mind typically gets blown. And I don’t like it. Because some honest truths come out and it makes me stop and think and analyze and then over analyze not only my life, but my thoughts, too.

So, earlier this week we had one of those deep conversations. He started talking about the psychology of dating and how both men and women play games in those early stages, sometimes without even realizing that they’re doing it. This behavior, apparently, is so ingrained in our very make up that we sometimes do it subconsciously.

I was in complete denial. I’m honest. I don’t play games.

Well, not intentionally, anyway.

But then he gave very specific examples of exactly when I fell victim to the game and when I played it myself.

*facepalm*

And then, things really got real.

Being cheated on has obviously messed with me – significantly. My heart will never be the same, but honestly, I’m okay with that now. I’ve come to the realization that I can never be hurt like this again. Nothing will ever hurt as badly as having my daughter’s father cheat on me for almost a year and then repeatedly berate me for being an awful wife and blame me for his behavior. So, now I can welcome the vulnerability necessary to allow love back into my life. I know I’ll get hurt again. To me, that is an inevitable byproduct, the collateral damage, of living with an open heart. I just now know that I will recover from that pain. Because, little by little, and day by day, I’m recovering from this agony that is my current reality.

But the part of me that sucks now, and that will take goodness knows how long to heal and come back from, is the part of not feeling like I am enough.

I wasn’t enough for him.

And I feel that to my very core.

So, my friend knows this and called me out. He said that I’m going to pursue relationships where I’m getting attention and validation, rather than ones where I have genuine and solid connections.

I tried to argue with him and say that wasn’t so at all and that I’m the type of person that cares more about a real connection.

And then, later that night, as I was trying to fall asleep, that portion of the conversation entered my mind, which caused me to stop and really think about it.

I’m pretty sure I smacked my forehead.

It was absolutely true. I’ve been seeking attention, not connection.

Oof.

That’s even hard to write. That’s a gross truth. Right there. In black and white.

He was right. That’s almost as painful to write. Luckily for me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t read these blogs, so he won’t ever know I said he was right. *smirk*

So, you must know my favorite quote by now, right? I’m sure I’ve quoted her several times over the last few months. “When you know better, you do better.” Thank you, Ms. Maya Angelou.

All it took was for someone to call me “darling” or let me know that I was on his mind, and I was smitten.

With my ex, I wasn’t enough for pet names anymore. I wasn’t enough for the phone to be put down during conversations or eye contact to be made. I wasn’t enough to be randomly thought of. I wasn’t enough.

So, for the majority of the last 3.5 months, I have actively been seeking the feeling of being enough through attention and eating it up when I was receiving it.

And here’s my epiphany: it is nobody else’s job to put a value on my worth. I value my worth.

And I’ve now decided I am enough. Because I’m allowed to decide that. (Holy smokes, let the healing begin!!) He didn’t cheat because I wasn’t enough. He betrayed me over and over again because of his own reasons that I’ll probably never understand.

When you know better, you do better. I now know better and I know I don’t need external validation to feel whole. I’m a pretty damn, amazing badass woman. And I’m definitely more than enough for anyone that is lucky enough to be in any type of relationship with me. *wink*

In all seriousness, it’s finally hit me – I know I am enough. I also know that I am human and my relationship skills lack at times. And that’s where, if the relationship is valued, open and honest dialogue needs to occur and swift action should then take place.

But I surely am going to consciously work on the habit of relying on any outside person to make me feel valued.

Because here’s the kicker to all of this…if I am in a relationship – of any sort – to get validation and attention, then I’m in that relationship for all the wrong reasons. At the core of it, I am merely using the other person in order to feel worthy.

It makes me want to vomit even admitting that. Gross.

How did I never see this? It’s been so long since I have felt worthy or enough or valuable or any of those things! And this whole time, I’ve had the power to change those feelings. I’m the one, ultimately, that decides my worth.

So, as hard as that conversation was to process later that night, it’s given me incredible insight. Will I still swoon when someone calls me “darling?”

But, of course!

Will I sacrifice my non-negotiables, like I have countless times in my past, just because I am getting attention?

I’d love to say, “No, of course I won’t sacrifice my foundational necessities because he texted good morning and called me a cute pet name.” But, old habits die hard.

Which means I have to be hyper aware of this behavior. Because when you know better, you’d darn well better do better.

I’m not looking to jump into any romantic relationship or anything, but this “aha moment” has brought a level of awareness and insight that I’ve never had. This bit of info alone is a game changer for me.

In the past, when I’ve received attention, it made me feel valued. When I felt valued, I felt a connection. And that is incredibly misleading! That connection could be based on nothing more than superficial kindness and then the next thing you know, I’m trying to fit another square peg into a round hole.

That is simply so unnecessary.

And so, awareness is key. Thanks to my buddy, I have that now. I know that, historically speaking, I’ve looked for others to give me that sense of being enough and it’s caused me to chase the wrong types of relationships.

I want a strong, meaningful connection with someone that elevates me to constantly want to be a better person, to be my biggest cheerleader, my workout partner, and the person I can connect with on a deeper level than just the one who gives me superficial kindness and attention.

I know what I want and I’m going to fight those old habits of being smitten by the first person who calls me darling.

I want more. And I deserve it.

Because I now know that I am enough.

life

Synchronicity

June 26, 2019June 26, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

I first heard this word from my “little” cousin, who normally lives in Colombia, but lived with me for about 5 months in early 2018. I hadn’t really understood what it was and she did a wonderful job explaining it to me. Now, I will attempt to explain it to you, in case you are in the same boat I was when I first heard it.

Synchronicity, as defined by Meriam-Webster online, is ” the coincidental occurrence of events and especially psychic events (such as similar thoughts in widely separated persons or a mental image of an unexpected event before it happens) that seem related but are not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality —used especially in the psychology of C. G. Jung.”

Okay, that’s a lot of words. Later on, in an example, the online dictionary calls synchronicity “meaningful coincidences.” I interpret synchronicity as nothing happens by chance. Every single person we interact with, especially if it is notable in any way, serves a purpose. We can dismiss it, or we can acknowledge it.

Lately, I have been acknowledging all these little gifts from the universe. Because these meaningful coincidences are just that: meaningful. And they ought to be paid attention to.

Let’s start with the biggest, most obvious meaningful coincidence. There is a reason why I joined my gym in late November – that community has come to my aid, and rescue, a million times since I found out about my ex’s infidelity.

I was thinking back to when my first major trauma occurred, a little over 2 decades ago. I became super unhealthy and I referred to the decade that followed as a time where I was a shadow of myself. I existed, but was not mentally well. I was weak, dependent, and felt so insignificant.

This time, I have had a huge group of strong women, and men, rallying, lifting me up, and reminding me EVERY DAY how strong and capable I am. They have constantly encouraged me and stressed upon me that I will survive this because not only am I a fighter, I am tenacious, as well.

I have needed those words of encouragement. Over and over again. Because over the last 3.5 months, some of the things I had been telling myself were not healthy.

The random people I’ve met – that I’ve taken the time to chat with when I ordinarily would’ve been much too shy or intimidated to reach out to – have also added so much value to my world. I’ve heard great tales about adventures and adversity and overcoming pain. Because of this blog, so many people have reached out to me and shared their stories. Each conversation I’ve had has touched my heart in a meaningful way.

Just in the last few weeks alone, I’ve met several people that have brought a certain significance to my life. There’s the random chance meeting of my friend’s former youth pastor, when my friend and I were grabbing a drink to catch up. And then seeing him the next day at a different restaurant, where we had the opportunity to chat and realized that we’re walking similar paths. And then this same wonderful human, with a full and generous heart, has come to help me in many ways, too numerous to mention here, but I am grateful for the connection.

Then there are the sweet and generous strangers on my flight to Detroit that, together, made up the perfect team, giving me the tools necessary to charge my phone so I could contact my best friend, who happened to be my ride. During the flight, I was able to engage in some conversation with one of them, who happened to see me furiously typing on my phone and was curious enough to ask what in the world was I writing. He then shared his stories of adversity and reminded me that, while our stressors stem from different places, they are still so alike. We are also walking down such similar paths.

And there’s my deal with the new car that I wanted so desperately that I was willing to try shoving a square peg in a round hole. (I’m a bit stubborn and sometimes it takes me a moment to realize what I’m doing…I know better than to force things! *sigh*) Anyway, I was jumping through all the hoops until the inevitable happened – the deal ended up falling through, making me super sad that I lost my car. And then, just 2 weeks later, I stumbled upon a used version of the exact same car (except with automatic transmission *double sigh*) and had to jump through zero hoops to get her! She’s still just as beautiful but ended up costing me significantly less!

I can’t forget to mention the podcaster that a close friend introduced to my blog, who is quickly becoming a dear friend and supporter of mine (check him out: TBI Ep: 1 I Was In Dark Place Scout Team Radio) and who happens to also be walking a path parallel to mine. (Seriously, there are so many of us out there who can relate to what the other is going through. It’s actually quite sad, when you think about the amount of pain we’re all walking around with.)

Then there are the wonderful chance meetings with people that just make me laugh. They put genuine smiles on my face – the ones that reach all the way inward and touch my soul.

Every single “random” encounter has been meaningful to me. These coincidences, each and every one of them, bring meaning and joy to my life. Perhaps they aren’t so random, after all?

The way my marriage ended, the fact that it was one of his Ashley Madison lovelies that broke the news instead of him, the fact that he would’ve kept doing it had he never been caught, the multi-layered and multi-faceted significance of his betrayal, it all serves a purpose.

Every single moment that has passed, every decision that has been made, every person I have met, it’s all significant. And I wouldn’t change a second of it all. It’s brought me here. And here is pretty darn happy.

Had my ex been the one to finally feel guilt and break down in shame and sorrow to tell me about his double life, perhaps we’d still be married. And then the path I’ve traveled for the last 3 months would’ve laid quiet, neat, and unexplored rather than the muddled, trampled down, and worn path it now is.

And that makes me a bit sad because I’ve come to welcome my beaten down path. I enjoy its existence. It is while traveling down this path that I’ve met so many interesting and wonderful people, people I never would’ve known had I not received an email at 6:08 pm on March 17 from an Ashley Madison lovely.

I know that great things lie just a bit further down this path of mine. I have many more unfulfilled dreams that I truly believe could become true now. Because I am a much different person than who I once was. And this girl is unafraid. Not only that, this girl is bold and choosing to now live life out loud.

I’m actually quite excited to continue venturing down this path, taking giant leaps of faith along the way, and also stopping to take time to pick the berries (life has to be a balance, right?). All the while, making a complete mess of it all as I continue to redefine who I am and chase even bigger dreams.

Guys, at a basic level, my trauma is no different than your trauma. And if we allow it, we can bond at a deeper level because of it. The problem, however, is when judgment interferes. How we choose to respond to our trauma is very individual, as it should be, so the response looks quite different from person to person. If I were to judge how you handle your shituation, a wedge would come between us.

So let’s not allow that to happen. There is no place in our lives, in how we handle and survive through our shituations, for judgment. Everybody responds to adversity differently and there is no right or wrong way to process life. We are all just riding the wave.

And since we can lose sight quickly, during the most dynamic of shifts, when the waves are cresting hundreds of feet above our heads, we have to actively look for meaningful coincidences. There’s nothing more that we can do but to allow the wave to carry us through it. But, if while we are forced to be at the wave’s mercy, we don’t look for meaning, then really, what are we doing? Escaping? Yeah, I did that. It just deepens the void and emptiness within. So, we should look for synchronicities. And embrace them tightly when we see them. Because all anyone wants is to see that the people and events surrounding them serve a purpose and leads to a meaningful life.

And there must be meaning in everything – or else there’s meaning in nothing. (Which would you rather have?)

So everything has its purpose, from a betrayal so great that it completely changes one’s path to the chance encounter with a stranger that, with almost no effort, quickly becomes a great and wonderful friendship.

Keep your eyes open, and your heart vulnerable and free, so that you, too, can start seeing all the meaningful coincidences in your life. And, please, do tell me all about them.

Sending so much love, and synchronicities, into the universe and out to all of you.

life, love

Exit 147

June 25, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

Exit 147. Race Rd.

This particular exit has represented a nightmare for almost 21 years. Every single time I’ve driven past it, I get a physical reaction – my heart races, my palms get sweaty, and I have to distract myself so that I don’t really look at it.

Well, that was before this past Sunday. On Sunday, this was the exit we had to take to my sprint triathlon. There was no more avoiding it, after almost 21 years of successfully doing so. After almost 21 years of never taking that exit.

And just like that, there was nothing I could do, it was time to face it.

Let’s rewind for just a minute. It’s December, 2007. A prominent light bulb in my house was out and my husband at the time (this was husband #1) had just left, like, a day or two before and was going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I needed this light bulb. I begged him, with real tears and real fear, to come back and change it…because I had deemed myself incapable. I was incapable of that and so much more.

He couldn’t come back – of course! So, after a few days, I finally went out to the garage, grabbed the ladder, then found the extra light bulbs, climbed to the top of the ladder, unscrewed the old bulb, and put in the new one. And then lost my ever loving mind. In a good way.

It took me just about a full 10 years to move past the trauma that occurred off Exit 147. And all it took was me changing a light bulb. Seriously. The light literally turned on and it figuratively filled my soul, finally releasing the darkness that had suppressed me for so long. I cried, at the top of that ladder, broken light bulb in hand.

My life turned a sharp corner after that. Switching out that one light bulb was monumental.

Such a small act, with such a significant impact. It was truly life changing. And I was blindsided by it.

You never know when something seemingly insignificant rocks the boat so severely that you wash ashore a changed person.

So, now here we are, back to June 23, 2019. Taking that same exit to my tri that I’d successfully avoided for over 2 decades, driving down that same road…such a small and ordinary act, right?

But now, I get to redefine what that exit means to me. It now symbolizes strength, empowerment, conquering of fears…and the best one – delight.

I am strong.

I will rise up.

I have overcome significant trauma before. I have woken up from a nightmare before, stronger, wiser, and happier. I can, and will, again.

Mindset is absolutely everything. I am allowed to define and redefine what certain things symbolize. I am allowed to define and redefine who I am. I am allowed to change and ride the wave and see just where it takes me. I give myself permission for all of that.

Nothing feels insignificant to me right now. The universe feels as though it’s beckoning me into its depths. I feel energized, the spark igniting every cell of my being. It’s begging me to listen, showing me signs everywhere.

Like Exit 147.

I am not who I once was. I am not who I was 4 weeks ago. I feel as though I am so fluid right now, becoming a new me, making leaps and changes with every new sign shown to me.

I’m grateful my eyes are open. I’m even more thankful that my heart is, too.

On May 27th, I wrote a blog that was filled with bitterness and lacked hope. I never wanted to be vulnerable again. I didn’t want another man to have the opportunity to throw me away again. I didn’t want to ever love again – I didn’t think it was worth it.

Guys, I am 38 years old and today, I feel healthier than I have in a long time. I can’t be that hardened and jaded and bitter and angry. I won’t let such toxicity flourish within.

So, just as I can redefine Exit 147, I can redefine who I am, what I want, and what I’ll allow my heart to feel.

I want to feel loved again. Which means I have to allow myself to be vulnerable. While that evokes so much terror that it is almost crippling, I understand that, in order to live a fulfilled life, I have to be vulnerable. But perhaps, vulnerable with a grain of salt. It’s much more palatable that way. *wink*

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last 100 days (I just can’t believe it’s been 100 days…) and some characteristics I have always had have been reaffirmed. I’ve never cared what others thought of me and still don’t. I’ve always only half listened to advice, picking and choosing what suits me best. I’ve been like that my whole life and I don’t see that part of me ever being redefined. I am quite confident in my brain and ability to *eventually* settle into a place that feels right within. While I have always known that about myself, I’ve discovered new things about who I am.

In these last 100 days, I have come full circle, I think. I am starting to settle in and things are feeling right within my soul. I’ve learned that, in times of high stress, I am not the one who reaches out and leans on others. I’ve learned that I’m much more apt to take flight than to fight. My skin has gotten thicker and I’ve learned to start embracing the dear Dalai Lama’s quote, “Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.”

It took me awhile to get to that last one. Like, 98 days…

But I think I’m getting my inner peace back. I no longer want to run away. I believe that I am strong enough to face my reality now. I am definitely strong enough to re-write and redefine my path.

Just as Exit 147 now symbolizes all things strength and beauty, the road ahead of me does as well. Perhaps it always has, it’s just that now I’m willing to see it.

life, love

Suffer Patiently

June 23, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

Life is full of challenges, right? Some we choose to endure, some are completely involuntary.

Endure. That is really quite the interesting word with two distinct definitions. Google defines it as:

suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently.
remain in existence; last.

“Suffer patiently.” Isn’t that a rather beautiful phrase?

I think dealing with the aftermath of this betrayal (because it’s so much more than infidelity, to me) has felt more like definition number 2. It has remained in my existence, completely overtaking my being. It has lasted for what has felt like an eternity already. I have had moments where this betrayal has all but consumed me. And while I have been suffering, I have not been doing so patiently.

This challenge has been one for the books. And I did not ask for it by being a terrible wife or having an awful marriage, no matter what anyone says, thinks, or tells my ex. And no matter what my ex himself says.

Yet, it’s a challenge. It’s here. In my face. And while I did not welcome it, I am living it.

And today, I embraced a different kind of challenge. I participated in my first open water sprint triathlon. Completely voluntarily. It’s an endurance race and a delightful combination of the two definitions. *chuckle*

I embarked on this adventure because I wanted to challenge myself both mentally and physically. I also wanted to face some fears and conquer them. You see, I am not a strong swimmer. I learned how to swim in my backyard pool and created some terrible habits. After taking swim lessons for 6 weeks, I knew what I was supposed to do, I just was incapable of actually doing it. I need a lot more practice. But that didn’t stop me from signing up and, consequently, participating in the open water race. And you know what? I did way better than I had ever thought I’d do on the swim. And you know what else? I actually enjoyed it!

Fear faced…and conquered! *huge grin*

Some challenges we don’t ask for – yet they still force us to face unpleasantness and decide how we’re going to react to them. Or, do what I did and make almost no decisions for 3 months and let the wave carry me to wherever it wanted to guide me.

Whatever works for you.

Making zero decisions and riding the wave was exactly what I needed to do. I don’t regret it, or any of my behavior during this ride, because it guided me to where I am today. And today, I am at peace. Finally.

In a typical tri, you bike after the swim. I can bike for a while without any bother. So, I entered “the zone” in my mind and just rode. Shortly before mile 4, my mind wandered to my current situation. More specifically, it wandered to my ex. At exactly mile 4, tears sprang to my eyes and I almost started to full on cry because I was flooded with the desire to forgive him.

I want to be his friend. (Yeah, that blindsided me, too. I surely wasn’t expecting that today.)

At this exact same moment, I felt a vehicle approaching from behind and it wasn’t exactly going slow. Because I was lost in my thoughts, this vehicle startled me and I went off the road. I forgot my foot was in a cage and when I went to put my foot down, I was unable. I very nearly almost bit it – hard. I was still going pretty fast.

But, I didn’t. I didn’t fall down. Not today. And not in life.

I took a breath, guided my bike back onto the road, and began pedaling my heart out again, annoyed that I’d lost a few seconds there.

While I realized then and there that I needed to stay focused on the road – and the ride – the epiphany stayed with me.

Cue definition 1: I think it’s time for me to suffer patiently. I think I am ready.

I have been undergoing a shift these last 2 weeks and I mentioned it in a previous blog. But, I’ve still been holding on to my anger. All that bitterness has lived inside of me for the last 98 days. I am quick to snap or cry or get frustrated. My emotions live right there, simmering on the surface, ready to get triggered at any moment. This is still the case – but at least now I realize it.

This pain is going to linger. I’m fully aware, as my therapist reminds me, that I could still get triggered by this 5 or 10 years down the road. It’s a journey. And like I said before, it is far more about the betrayal than the infidelity. And this betrayal is so multi-faceted that I’m sure it’ll haunt me for a good portion of the rest of my life, and in ways that I’m still unaware.

Because I know this suffering will persist, at least for a while, I have to learn to live with it without it consuming me and turning me into something – and somebody – that I am not. And this bitterness I taste, and quite possibly could always taste, is beginning to be covered up by something just a bit sweeter now.

I am patient. I always have been. I have not been patient these last 3 months. I have lashed out in anger at moments where I should’ve bitten my tongue. There have been a few episodes where I was a complete jerk to my ex because I didn’t care if it hurt him. I wanted to give him a glimpse into my pain.

But nobody can understand the depth of this pain. That is a gift strictly for me.

And it is a gift. This dreadful catastrophe changed me. Who I once was in no longer who I am now.

Which is perfectly fine, too. I think I’m going to like the new me. Empowered. Communicative. I know what I want and I’m not afraid to voice my opinion about it.

I have endured pain in the form of heartbreak that I’d never realized could exist. I did not welcome it but it is now time to embrace it. It is my story. This is my journey.

I am ready to forgive.

And I’m ready to suffer patiently.

With class. And grace. And muscles. Again.

life

Fight or Flight?

June 19, 2019June 20, 2019 A Graceful Catastrophe

You always hear kids saying how unfair life is, “it’s not fair that so and so gets a TV in their bedroom!” Or, you know, insert some material thing that some friend of theirs, or classmate, has.

As adults, life is still anything but fair.

It’s not fair to get cancer at 33 years old. It’s not fair to kick it’s butt and then struggle with crippling depression after getting the news that you’re all clear, making you, in ways, sicker than you were when you were actively fighting and going through all the treatments.

It’s not fair to grow up dreaming of motherhood, being a young adult and doing everything right to prevent a pregnancy, working incredibly hard as an adult, waiting until you’ve reached a “respectable” and “fiscally responsible” time of your life to start trying, and then finding out that you can’t have kids naturally. It’s not fair to spend 10’s of thousands of dollars and still come up empty. Causing you to feel a void greater than you ever thought was possible.

It isn’t fair to lose your dear brother, your best friend, to cancer, watching him slowly and painfully die and leave behind a family that loves him with every breath they take – and will ever take.

It isn’t fair that, when you’re doing everything your instincts are screaming for you to do, so much that you end up losing yourself in motherhood to protect the baby you almost lost, and then your husband’s response is anything but compassionate and empathetic. It’s not fair to devote 11 years to a man, when he only devoted 10. It’s not fair that now he wants to be a husband and blames me for tearing apart our family because I cannot look past all that he has done.

Life. Isn’t. Fair. You know it, too.

Insert your reason here. You know you have one. We all do.

So what do we do with that? So, okay, life can be shit. My best friend coined the phrase, “shituation.” We all have shituations.

Do we let it overtake us? Do we become bitter and jaded, holding on to the hurt and the anger caused by the shituation? Do we actively escape our own lives in whatever way we can?

Well, yeah. Maybe. For a while, at least.

And then what?

We all know it isn’t healthy to live in that space. Not for any extended period of time, at least.

So how do we get through it?

Well, I’ll tell you what I’ve done – and am doing – and who knows if it’s right or wrong or would work for anyone else other than me. Be sure to take it with a grain of salt.

I escaped my reality. I ran away, sometimes with friends and sometimes alone. Any opportunity where I had no motherhood obligations, I drank myself happy. Drank until I didn’t care. Drank to forget.

I also worked out – obsessively at times. I still do. (I’ve got to counteract the drinking… *shrug*)

And I finally reached a point where I didn’t want to escape anymore. If you read my previous blog, I, at what feels like long last, got to the point where I was ready to face this beast. And I’m now doing so, in very small bits at a time.

Fight or flight. I was in denial for a good month, then flew directly to flight for the last two.

I’m ready to fight now.

Are you?

How are you going to fight your shituation? How are you going to face the utter depths of despair and begin to crawl back from them?

I’ll tell you a secret: there’s absolutely no way I could ever possibly do this alone.

I’ve learned something about myself during the last 3 months. Okay, I’ve learned A TON about myself, but here’s one thing. I don’t reach out. When life explodes in my face, I actively avoid. I thought, a few blog posts ago, that it was only those most familiar to me that I didn’t – couldn’t – be around. But it’s not. I avoid anyone and everyone.

The people I’ve opened up to are the ones who have reached out to me. They’re in my face and I literally can’t avoid them, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I’m honest – to a fault (live out loud, right?). So, if you’re someone who has reached out, and then reached out again and again, and happened to catch me in a moment that absolutely sucked, I’ve opened up to you – probably giving you more than you bargained for. I’ve done this with strangers. I’ve opened up to close friends. I’ve opened up to acquaintances. Anyone who happened to be there for me and just wouldn’t get out of my face.

The ones who have consistently checked in and would check in again and again until my silence and facade broke? Guys, find those people.

I know I haven’t been that person for so many going through their shituations. The energy necessary to consistently check in was more than I had in my tank. It troubles me greatly that I haven’t been able to be that person for all my friends going through their shit. Because I know how impactful those people have been to me. I hope my tank is starting to fill. I can’t keep running on “emotional empty.”

This shituation I’m in has been draining on so many levels. SO MANY, GUYS!!!

And I’m angry and frustrated that it has changed who I am as a friend.

It’s changed who I am as a person, guys. I am not who I was. I’ll never be her again.

I don’t know who I am. Honestly.

And that’s so hard to admit.

I’ve always had a good head on my shoulders. I’ve always been responsible and thought about how my actions would affect my future. I’ve always known exactly what I was going to do tomorrow and next week and next month and next year…and so on.

But for what? All of that for what exactly?!

There is no reality past this breath I am taking right now.

But there has to be a balance.

So how do I find it?

How do I care about how my actions today will affect my future when time and again I have been shown that my future can change in a second. A mere, tiny, oh, so very significant second!!!

Oof, I am angry.

I am on a plane right now. And I’m surrounded by couples, actively loving one another. And I just wonder, when will it end for them? What will be their demise?

Because relationships aren’t infinite.

*sigh*

So, there you go. Real time. Real emotions. This blog quickly shifted from uplifting to anger.

This anger is constantly simmering. I’m always at the edge. It doesn’t take much to trigger me anymore.

And this is just not who I am! I’m not an angry person. I never have been.

Maybe this is the new me.

Distrusting. Angry. Frustrated. Jaded. Bitter.

Do you realize how toxic those emotions are? And they’re all harboring inside of me. Silently waiting to show themselves at the first opportunity that presents itself. And I have no clue when that could strike.

Like in the middle of a crowded plane, as I furiously write this on my phone.

So here we are. Full circle.

You are reading it live…raw. The full gamut of what I live, moment by moment, every single damn day.

Future? What a joke. I can barely process an hour at a time.

But I can’t keep flying away. That’s not reality. And it surely isn’t healthy.

So, ladies and gentlemen, how do we fight?

This life is absolutely worth fighting for. I obviously have no doubt about that. This life, these moments in my life, they all serve a purpose. I believe that all the way to my soul.

From moments filled with hope to moments spiraling out of control and finding themselves settling in rage, they all teach me something.

And they are all valid.

This blog feels absolutely all over the place.

Real time.

Real emotions.

This is life.

It fluctuates for everyone. Though, perhaps, not as quickly as you’re seeing here.

I have been writing for a little over an hour, or so, now.

And this is why I’m pretty consistently emotionally drained right now. And a self-absorbed person. And probably – no, definitely – not the greatest friend.

So, I hope you can forgive me.

And I hope, whenever I reach “the other side” of this shituation, you are still there. Because I love you dearly.

I guess I’m asking for grace.

And perhaps, just maybe, I am ready to start living with it again.