Tag: catastrophe

life

Nobody Should Ride a Roller Coaster Alone

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’ve dreamed of being an author since I was in the 4th grade. My closest friends have encouraged me, for as long as I can remember, to carve out time during the day to write. One of my bestest friends of all time gave me two journals, one pocket-sized, so that I can never have an excuse that I’ve lost a potential book idea. I carry the pocket-sized one with me at all times and I write down book ideas and inspirations that I get randomly throughout the day.

I have so many ideas for books. And they are all written in those journals. Perhaps one day I’ll actually write one of those books.

But for now, I have a monster book brewing in my head. It’s a memoir/guidebook of sorts. I’ve lived through my fair share of trauma, this latest catastrophe being the most destructive. Yet, I’m still smiling – well, most of the time. I have a lot of stories to share, a lot of lessons learned and even more that are yet to be learned. And you all seem to connect with what I write.

It makes me wonder what could happen at a much larger scale.

So, this blog that I am currently writing is dedicated to one of the potential chapters of my future book. Please tell me how you like it.

Chapter Something

Processing life after a catastrophic trauma is so much like riding a roller coaster. You feel clammy all the time, with moments where you want to cry to moments where the tears are from laughter. You’re so nauseated. All. Of. The. Time. You don’t dare eat because you just know you’ll throw up after coming down from that first big hill. And if you’ve ever ridden a roller coaster, you know all of those sensations, all of those feelings, are valid. They’re normal.

The same is true when processing great catastrophic life events.

When I was younger, a trauma occurred and I felt so isolated, so scared, so confused. I didn’t understand what I felt or why I was feeling it. And I was ever so ashamed. Even though it’s 20 years later, and I’m going through a significantly different situation, though of catastrophic proportions once again, it is just as confusing and scary, and also again, I feel shame. Though this time around, I’m not isolated. I have chosen to share my story. To live out loud. To talk about all of my feelings with anyone who will listen. I will not be silenced. And I will not be bullied or threatened into keeping my story to myself.

I am screaming my story to anyone who will listen.

And, damn, is that ever so helpful!

It’s helpful because it reminds me that I’m not alone. So many other people have experienced my same pain. They’ve told me that I could be writing the words that are engraved on their hearts.

The last thing you want, after experiencing sudden devastation, is to feel like nobody would understand what you’re going through, to think that you are living this chaos alone. Yet, so many people do. They suffer in silence. They don’t want to be a burden on others.

Guys, I have burdened so many of you! And because of that, I have been held up, physically and emotionally. You have been my lighthouses, shining your bright lights into the darkest places of my mind, never relenting until it penetrates my soul. And none of you have made me feel like a burden.

It’s human nature to want to help others! We desperately want to comfort other people – even strangers. Though we especially want to be there for those closest to us. And when I lay my troubles into their hands, it helps. I feel lighter. They empower me, help me feel embraced, loved, and supported. They help me acknowledge that while I currently have shit in between my toes from it hitting the fan and going everywhere so then I of course can’t help but step in it, it won’t always be there. Not only do they remind me that it won’t always be there, they actually get their hands dirty and help wipe it away.

The community you allow into your life wants to be there. They want to lift you up. They want to see you succeed and grow and flourish. They want to shower you with love and support.

So let them in. And burden your community with your troubles. You will find yourself in a much better place to cope with the turmoil in your heart and you’ll probably even find that certain relationships within your community strengthen. Friendships deepen to levels you didn’t really think would be possible in such a short amount of time.

So dare to live your story out loud. Find the strength to speak your truth. Start with one person, and then let the flood gates open. You’ll be so surprised by not only the sympathy, but also by the empathy. People will feel badly for you, feel angry with you, cry with you, get drunk with you, and laugh with you.

Others will connect with your soul. They’ll understand you before you even understand yourself. Because they’ve walked a thousand miles in your shoes already. They’ve worn them in for you, making your navigation through the storm perhaps just a wee tiny, little bit easier.

Not everyone will agree with you reaching out to anyone who will listen. And that is okay. This isn’t their path to travel, nor is it their wave to ride. As long as you find peace in sharing your story with others, keep right on narrating your life. Your community will make it known who wants to listen, who feels comfortable being your lighthouse. So follow their beacon and expose your heart. The more raw and exposed I have lived in these last 2 months, the less alone I have felt.

And I just can’t say it enough. You do not want to feel alone while weathering your storm. Many in your community will definitely be able to sympathize. And at least one person will be able to empathize. They will wrap their arms tightly around you, flooding your whole body with a warm embrace that is electrified with their unconditional love and support, and they’ll shower you with forehead kisses. Your community is waiting, at the ready, to do whatever it takes to convince you that you are not alone.

Find them and lay your sadness, your fears, your anger and your anguish into their awaiting hands. If you bend too far, and end up broken, hand them all of your broken pieces. And do so without shame or worry of being a burden. Because they are waiting there, judgement free, with duct tape to slowly help piece you back together.

Your community loves you. Unconditionally. Lean on them and let that love fill you until you feel strong enough to survive another moment.

And before you know it, you are no longer merely surviving. Thanks to them, suddenly one day you are thriving.

As I write this, the lyrics to the song, “Lean On Me,” popped into my head. Specifically, these:

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you won’t let show”

Lean On me
bill withers

That Mr. Withers sure knew what he was talking about! Be unashamed of your roller coaster. Swallow your pride and lean on your community because your feelings are valid and shouldn’t be felt in isolation.

Nobody should ride a roller coaster alone.

life

Everyone Needs a Lighthouse

A Graceful Catastrophe

According to the National Park Service’s website, a lighthouse “is a tower with a bright light at the top” and its purpose is to “serve as a navigational aid and to warn boats of dangerous areas.”

I am in a boat. And I’m out sailing the turbulent waters of this catastrophe, in areas of the vast sea that appear ever so scary and dangerous.

You all, well, most of you, are my lighthouses. You shine your bright light straight into my soul, illuminating my path, cautioning me away from the dangerous areas. You remind me that my actions impact my daughter…because I’m not sailing alone. You remind me that I am strong. You remind me that not only should I live my life with grace and class, I am also fully capable of it.

You remind me that my feelings are valid. That anger is an appropriate response at this juncture. I’ve only been navigating this storm for 2 months. You remind me that it will get better. You remind me that I am not alone. You share your stories with me, giving me perspective from the other side.

You envelop me with love. So. Much. Love! You make it so that I can hold my head high and choose to live with compassion. Because you remind me of how loved I am. And when you’re loved unconditionally, you are capable of anything.

You. My lighthouses. You have helped to navigate me away from such nasty waters, ones that I almost sank in.

Tonight, I’ve found a patch of calm sea. I’m drifting in a bit of peace. Because you’ve given me the strength to steer my boat out of danger.

I appreciate you for lifting me up, for shining your beautiful light in my direction, for helping guide me back to who I am at my core.

Tonight, after being home for all of about 5 minutes, my ex and I had yet another heated exchange. I told him, again, that I hated him. And then I went to my room and read and re-read your messages to me. Love flooded through me. And soon enough, so did my internal strength. I want to give grace. I want to be understanding. He’s the father of my child. A man I have a lot of history with and someone I wouldn’t have ever married had he not been a good person. He may not deserve grace right now, but I want to give it to him. After spending some time breathing and reading your messages that were all filled with beautiful love, I went downstairs and asked my ex if we could talk.

And we did.

It started a bit rough, but I was filled with your light and your love, so I was able to remain calm. Eventually, his anger dissipated. You know, I am not someone who enjoys being filled with hate. I am a peaceful, compassionate, and loving person. It just takes so much awful energy to feel such an intense negative feeling. It is toxic and I don’t enjoy who I am when I’m filled with it.

So tonight, I was able to let it go. Again.

I’m angry. Hurt. Sad. Emotional. I mean, I’m pretty much a general mess. But I’m not filled with that rage and hate anymore. It is no longer all consuming. I was able to let it go – and without punching something this time. And I feel so much lighter again.

These blogs are personal. They’re raw. And they’re written in real-time. So because of that, I am able to receive your unconditional support and love in real time. I receive your beautiful light and it shines so strongly into my soul that it is overwhelming and brings me to tears, in a most amazing way. Thanks to you, I was able to process through this negative space of the last several days without resorting to behavior that I could potentially regret (like a broken hand).

And my ex and I are in a decent place once again. He apologized. I apologized. We want to be better to one another. To do better. I know he genuinely wants to improve how he responds to the stressors in his life. When it comes to stress and choosing how to respond – with fight or flight – he has pretty much always chosen to fight. He gets backed into a corner and he lashes out. It isn’t right – and he knows that. And just like Maya Angelou says, when you know better, you do better.

I know better, too. I know that the best way to approach life is with grace, compassion, and understanding. You catch a whole lot more flies with honey than you do with vinegar…isn’t that the saying?

At times I’m so hurt that I feel broken. But you put me right back together. You lift me up, taking turns when it all just gets too heavy for any one of you. But there has always been someone else to take your place, jump in, and show me love.

So, thank you for that message. I am paying it forward and showing my ex that same message. And hopefully he can learn how to pay it forward and show grace and compassion when life gets just a little too uncomfortable, rather than go on the attack.

We live what we know. I am fortunate enough to know unconditional love from so many different people. Now that I’m filled with it, I want to live that love you all have shown me, time and time again.

I am not broken. Maybe I’m cracked. And I’m definitely not shattered. My boat is intact for the most part, though perhaps taking on just a little water. I have the resources necessary to make sure my boat doesn’t sink. I won’t drown. And I’m beyond grateful for those resources.

I am choosing to live with grace again. I am choosing to use my resources to help me grow and have a better tomorrow than I did today. My boat will be stronger every day…because of you all.

My ex may not deserve the grace but deep down, he is a good person. He’s just lost. We live what we know and I want him to know that there are better ways to respond to stressful, awful situations than to lash out and attack. He needs a lighthouse. Perhaps I will start building one for him, one beautiful brick at a time, built with compassion, grace, and understanding.

Everyone needs a lighthouse.

life

A Graceful Spiral

A Graceful Catastrophe

When it comes down to it, we all choose the life that we want…even if it isn’t the life we say we want.”

Imposters S1: E3, Netflix

Without some semblance of *perceived* control, one tends to spiral. There has been a lot of spiraling in my home lately.

Today, after chatting with a close friend, I realized all of the emotions and actions from the past week, for sure, and probably much longer, have come from a place of control – either a loss of it (my ex) or the freedom of finally having some again (me).

From my perspective, based on an 11 year history, my ex has a controlling personality. Hindsight is amazing and as I sit and think about our relationship over time, I see things with such clarity now. He uses manipulation and intimidation to gain control. He always has, I just never saw it. When he feels like he has lost control, the intimidation and manipulation reaches an all-time and, at times, scary high. This happened a couple of times this last week, and while it made me feel incredibly uncomfortable, it was exactly what I needed in order to continue moving forward with the tedious task of legal separation. (Why, oh why must there be so many hoops to jump through?!)

But since I must, I will jump. Set boundaries need to exist.

My ex’s “boundaries” are so fluid that they’re practically non-existent. I thrive on having boundaries and I think people, in general, would tend to agree. Boundaries create a sense of safety and predictability. Without boundaries, it is much easier to lose control and, therefore, some bits of sanity are also lost.

And they also need to exist because he would like for us to get back together – and that is just not something I’m willing to do. Today my ex told me that couples have come back from “worse situations than ours.”

Really.

REALLY?! And what situation exactly is he having to come back from? Oh, oops! I messed up – I should say sorry to her. She has to forgive me. We have a daughter. We should keep our family unit together… Yep, he regrets his behavior. Feels awful. Apologize, show remorse, say you’re still in love. That’s all it should take for us to get back together. He thinks I’m the one throwing away the family because I will not give him a second chance. He would love for me to walk with him on his journey to becoming a better man and father. Because, he says, he has nobody to support him and doesn’t want to do this by himself. More guilt. More manipulation.

So I remind myself (constantly) that he chose this life. Actively. Intentionally. Willingly.

And let’s take a moment and look at what situation I am trying to overcome, shall we? I can count the people I blindly trust on less than one hand. He was one of them. He lied straight to my face, day in and day out, for almost a year. AND would’ve kept right on lying to me and doing his thing had he not been exposed by a woman (that he was seeing) and had disrespected one time too many. Not only did he lie, but, through his words and actions, he made me feel like an awful wife and an awful person practically every day. I was constantly reminded that I wasn’t enough. During the 8 weeks where I took care of him after he selfishly and stupidly made a move that ended in him crashing his dirt bike at a race, he was quite awful to me – awful enough that when his brother came to visit, he was so appalled he actually went home and told their mother about his behavior towards me.

I was emotionally beat down by him for a long time but for him to treat me that way WHILE he was cheating on me is just a whole other level of hurt. And then there’s the betrayal. And the selfishness. All the times he must’ve worked out of town for an extra day, or took a later flight, causing me just a bit more stress as I tried to manage life here as a single mom, just so that he could squeeze in a date before coming home… The multi-layered levels of heartbreak that his actions put me through, along with his behavior over the last 2 months, is enough to make me walk away feeling like it’s the best decision for all involved. There are some things that are just too great to overcome. “I’m sorry” will never be enough, especially when he makes comments that try to diminish the severity of his actions over the last year. (*eye roll* “Other couples have overcome worse than this.” What the ever loving hell kind of a comment is that?! He just has no clue the extent of his impact.)

While I fully recognize that this posting is definitely falling short, I am trying to be a compassionate person. I am trying to give him grace. I am trying so hard to understand his actions towards me. Perhaps he has issues that are so deeply rooted that he doesn’t even understand who he is and what he is doing. I can’t imagine that he does any of this intentionally. Or that he would purposefully manipulate and intimidate me. Or that he consciously plays the role of the victim in this situation. I think, perhaps, that’s all he knows, so in times of chaos, when he’s lost control, he resorts to the only behaviors he’s familiar with. Because I would’ve never married him if he wasn’t a good person. Somewhere in there, he is a good person. But I am no fool. Not anymore, at least. I know his problems aren’t mine to fix and they aren’t mine to accept any longer. I am now, finally, thinking clearly.

Well, for the most part. Some days are harder than others, though. Some days, I can’t help but get tangled up in the trap that his words weave. I allow myself to respond in anger or fear or sadness – emotions brought on by his attempts at manipulating me.

But those aren’t my true emotions. They’re simply knee-jerk responses to his words and actions. When I stop, take a step back, and really process, I no longer feel those emotions – at least not as intensely as I did at first.

Whether he does so intentionally or because it’s, sadly, all he knows, I will not let him control, manipulate, or intimidate me anymore. The reasons he behaves this way are not important. What is important, however, is that I am now in a place where his words no longer hold that kind of power over me.

So, I place my walls firmly up. I am trying to make clear boundaries, for the benefit of the both of us. For now, I will do what it takes to protect myself – to protect my heart. I will not allow myself to ever have the opportunity to experience such pain again.

Right now, I feel more empowered than I probably ever have. With proper boundaries in place, I have control back over my life. To finally feel like I’m no longer spiraling, that I have a sense of peace despite the stress of my current situation, is incredibly rewarding. The more my ex spirals, the more I focus in and process the immediate world around me. I have been doing a lot of self-reflection lately, thinking about what exactly it is that I am doing and thinking about how I now view my world. I’ve had moments that I welcome, where I stop and really take it all in, analyze what I’m thinking and why exactly it is that I think it. I truly enjoy thinking deeply about what I’m thinking. It keeps me centered.

So, after lots of processing, I’ve come to a place where I am completely comfortable with my decisions – and my new interpretation of the world around me. My newfound understanding of the world that I want to live in.

My (ex) husband says he broke me. I’ve also said that myself. Now that I have done a fair amount of thinking about it, I don’t know that I’m so much broken, as I am completely transformed. I’m “unbecoming everything that isn’t me.” The way I think now is vastly different than it was just 65 days ago. Neither school of thought is wrong, either, it’s just different. And I’m quite comfortable with being different. I thrive on it. I seek it out. I want to buck the system and intentionally act out against convention. It’s more comfortable for me than trying to fit in society’s norms. “Normal” is nothing I’ve ever wanted to be.

Please read this carefully – it’s NOT wrong to go against mainstream society if that’s what brings you peace and happiness. It isn’t wrong to control your own moments in whatever way you see best for you.

I used to be a Type A planner, with a thousand set plans for tomorrow, next month, next year, 20 years from now…and, well, you get it. I had my map all planned out. And when random acts occurred, causing me to make a detour, it would seriously mess with my head.

Well, 2 months ago brought a serious detour. One that, really, led me straight off a cliff. The old me, the old way of thinking and obsessively planning, is gone. She’s just completely gone. And you know what? I have never felt more free. I’ve never felt like I’ve lived more authentically than I am right now.

I have more control over my life than I ever have before. I’ve really never thought more clearly about my decisions. I live for now. I make decisions based on how I feel now. There is no tomorrow. It simply doesn’t exist!

Guys! If I could ever convince you of anything, it is to live for this moment, right now, and nothing else. And to do so unapologetically. When you think about the future, you’re causing unnecessary stress in your life. You have absolutely zero control over what may come. But, you do have at least some control over right now. Getting lost in the past and romanticizing it or stressing about the future – it leaves you powerless! You can’t live in the happy memories of the past or change what awfulness happened yesterday. And surely, no matter how much you think you can plan for tomorrow, you just never know when a catastrophe will occur and derail everything.

So stop spiraling. Even if it’s a graceful spiral that you’re in. Live for today. Love this moment, right now. It’s the only genuine time in your life! And what a gift it is!

In order to fully embrace this moment, the one you’re in right now, you have to accept it. And that’s where it can get difficult. But what’s worse than accepting this moment is fighting against it. There is control in embracing what is and therefore, there is freedom in it.

This moment might suck. A lot. But by acknowledging it, embracing the suck, honoring the heck out of it, you remain in control – and free.

Find your freedom. Accept what is. And live the most authentic life you’ve ever lived.

Then tell me all about it. Because I always look forward to hearing your stories.

Uncategorized

I Feel Everything…So I Feel Nothing

A Graceful Catastrophe

*This was written on May 15, but I fell asleep before publishing it, so it’s referencing Tuesday night’s chaos.*

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

After last night’s drama, where I felt emotions ranging from fear to sadness to anger to extreme calmness, it is nice to feel nothing today. I have had a pretty quiet afternoon and evening. I have been pretty overwhelmed today. It started pretty much as soon as I woke up and remembered his actions from last night. I hate remembering.

Today I went down to the courthouse and started the tedious and long process to file for legal separation. I officially am the owner of not one, but two failed marriages. What a gem that is. I am starting to feel like Ross, from Friends. I can completely understand why he stayed secretly married to Rachel, to avoid divorce #3. I just can’t see myself being in any kind of serious relationship ever again. In order to be in a successful serious relationship, you have to let your guard down, to blindly trust. To allow myself to become so vulnerable that I’d willingly put myself at risk of feeling this much pain that my mind literally shuts down in an act of self-preservation is not something I’ll ever actively seek out. At least, that’s how I feel today.

Sometimes something happens to us that hurts so badly that the only response is to shut down. To feel nothing so that you don’t feel everything.

Today, I feel broken. He broke me. I hate writing that, to give him that kind of power. Yet, it’s exactly how I feel. Today, I am fully barricaded in my castle, with all the hazards and obstacles fully in place to prevent myself from falling again. I cannot feel this depth of anguish and despair again…I won’t. There’s only so much a soul can take before she breaks.

It sounds so dramatic. And I know I’m “young.” I also know that time heals most wounds. Being right here in the thick of it, though, it feels as though this wound is just too deep and has too many layers that need to heal to ever resemble anything unbroken again. Some hurts are impossible to recover from.

While this isn’t my first trauma I’ve ever experienced, it is the most multi-layered. The stacks of different kinds of pain that need to be processed are astounding. I also acknowledge that my history proves that I do eventually recover. The next greatest trauma that I experienced took me almost a full decade to come back from. And this is just so much worst. I guess time will tell.

For now, though, I will remain guarded and actively escape this awful reality as often as I can. Unapologetically.

So, if you talk to me and I seem a bit vacant or distracted, just understand that life, in that moment, is just a little too much to absorb. Or if I talk a little too much, I know you will listen. My life bounces between extremes right now. It’s either “feel all the feelings” or “feelings? Those don’t matter. Let’s bury them.”

It’s interesting. I’ve always been open and emotional (and oftentimes, an emotional mess with everything worn transparently for all to experience right along with me). My ex has probably asked me, with no exaggeration, 20 times in the last 24 hours if I’m okay. Because I’m super withdrawn – vacant.

I am okay. I will be great again. I will go back to feeling everything again. For today, though, I will remain safely inside my castle. And feel the void that is my current state.

Because if I feel anything, then I’ll feel everything. And I want to feel nothing.

life

Untangling Christmas Lights

A Graceful Catastrophe

Picture Christmas lights. You pull out a messy bundle that you thought you’d carefully wrapped up and put away the previous year. The first step is to plug them in, to see if they all light up. They don’t, of course. So then you have to start untangling them. At long last, after a stupid amount of agonizing minutes, the strand is free of tangles! You finally have a perfectly straight strand of lights. Yes! But where on earth is that one lousy bulb that’s making the whole blasted section short out?! Forget it! Rather than take the time to find the bloody thing, after you’ve just spent way too much time trying to straighten it all out, you just throw the whole strand away. It’s a lost cause.

That’s quite how I feel tonight. Trying to process my emotions right now feels like a lost cause. For the last hour or so, I just sat in silence, thinking. I was going nowhere with that, so I decided to grab my computer and just start writing.

I am doing my best to honor my emotions, to ride the wave and feel them all. On days like today, though, that is almost impossible. I want to bury them so that I can process my world logically. And then leave the emotions shoved in a box, buried deep in my soul. There are just too many to handle right now. And they’re all twisted together.

Like tangled, broken Christmas lights.

Perhaps there’s nothing wrong with honoring that? At least for a moment.

What do I know? I don’t have the answers. I’m just trying to live the best life that I can live, one moment at a time, now that I’m in the “after” portion of the catastrophe that upended my world.

But the truth of the matter is, there’s still a wave that I’m riding. Whether or not I tightly pack my emotions and bury them, they aren’t going away. I guess I just have to try to process them, so let’s take a minute and talk about today.

Today was…well, today was difficult. Those are the only words I have to describe today.

There is so much going on inside of me right now.

My mind is swirling.

My heart is racing. I can actually feel it hammering in my ears.

Today was my daughter’s birthday party to celebrate her 9th birthday. And it was a huge success. There was so much laughter and squealing from the kids, great conversation was taking place as I took a moment to quietly survey the party, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the food and drinks. The decorations were on point, the cake was incredibly decorated, and the bounce house was obviously a huge hit. With help from my parents, my (ex) husband and I threw another great party.

It’s what we do.

Wait…it’s what we did?

*sigh*

Moment. By. Moment.

I can’t live any other way right now.

I get lost when I try to.

I have a dear friend, rather like a soulmate, a sister, who checked in on me late tonight. She experienced probably the most significant loss a person could go through, went through such unimaginable pain, that she knew the significance on my emotions today would have. She could empathize with what exactly celebrating my daughter’s birthday would feel like for me. She just knew that today would be an incredibly difficult one.

So she sent me a message. Affirming me. Loving me. Reminding me that I am a great mom and that today was about making wonderful memories for my daughter. And together, my ex and I did exactly that. I gave nobody any clue that both last night and this morning sucked or that I was having an internal battle because of it – today wasn’t the time for that. Yet, she knew. She doesn’t even live in the same state that I do! And she knew. It was the most meaningful moment of the day for me.

I am well aware that milestones, even little ones, are going to be hard for a while. I’m thinking it is because those milestones are no longer going to occur the way I’d always envisioned them. Even when they seemingly do.

I’m tangled because today was so normal. Too normal. The party was flawless. Anyone who didn’t know what the last 7 weeks has looked like for me, for us, didn’t have any inkling that our marriage was broken. He hosted. I hosted. It’s just what we do. Today’s milestone was successfully – and normally – celebrated. But nothing is normal right now.

So, when everything seems perfectly happy and wonderful and normal, I find myself getting lost. Everything about living “normally” as a family takes monumental intention and discipline. Almost every move, every conversation, even every smile has to be calculated.

I am currently trying to live in a hyper-focused state because I’ve found that when I don’t, I don’t process my reality as well as I could. Everything gets messy and ridiculously tangled.

*Cue the purpose behind writing this tonight…*

But, as I sit here and write, I have to ask: is being hyper-focused a bad thing? Mindset is everything, right? I mean, we all know that. I constantly hear: “Embrace the moment!” Or people say, in some way or another, to enjoy living in a space where the only thing that matters is literally right now: “Live in the now.” “Be present.” Maybe it’s time to trust that the “hyper-focused” attitude is exactly the way I should’ve been living all along.

Huh.

You know, when I first began writing this blog, somewhere a little over 2 hours ago, I was feeling overwhelmed. I even had a physiological response to it, with my heart racing and thumping in my ears. Now, though, I think I’m beginning to get untangled.

And this is exactly why I write.

I am a verbal processor. I either have to talk through things in order to make sense of them, or write about them. I can’t just live inside my head – I get absolutely nowhere with “thinking.”

What about you? Do you have tangled Christmas light moments? Times where you just think to yourself how messed up it all is and it’s so overwhelming that it feels like a lost cause? How do you remind yourself that it’s not?

If you aren’t sure how you process intense emotions and deep thoughts, take a minute to analyze how you’ve worked through problems before. Do you talk about it? Do you journal? Do you mull it over inside your head while you go out for a run? It’s important to know because everyone needs a healthy outlet to help get their head right. Tonight, I went from spiraling down a rabbit hole of confusion to feeling pretty great again. All because I decided to grab my computer and write.

From start to finish, it’s going to take me well over 4 hours to write just this one blog. When I first sat down to write tonight, my thoughts started in the same place as I did with this one, but then went off in a completely different direction. I didn’t like where that was going, so I discarded it and began again. And then I edited this piece like crazy. The whole process helped me understand my thoughts and pinpoint why I was feeling the way I was. I dumped it all onto this beautifully simple blank page. Writing gave me the time to understand what I was thinking and helped me get my mindset back where it needed to be.

Life is confusing. No matter what you’re living through right this moment, your life is sure to take you on a journey. It’s supposed to. There aren’t many things you can count on with certainty, but experiencing ups and downs is a given. We are meant to grow, so we must experience discomfort. Here are some things I’ve learned in the last 7 weeks that continuously help me get through my discomfort, this catastrophe, with grace.

  • Choose to see the good in the people around you, because everybody has good in them.
  • Don’t worry about what may happen at some point down the road or what you should’ve done yesterday. Process the moments as they come and make sure to do so in a healthy way.
  • Count on others for help. We all inherently want to help the members in our community so you aren’t a burden. Don’t think for a second that you are.
  • Hyper-focus on the moments. Though, you may be in the middle of stepping in the mess that erupted after it hit the fan, look up. You don’t have to focus on the mess. When you see all that is in front of you, you’ll surely find something to make you smile.

You all do that for me, you know. While trying to side-step the mess that is my current chapter, you all help me look up. You make me smile. I’m grateful to you – for reading my blog, for commenting on it here and on social media, and especially for sharing it with others because you think it might help them process their world just a tiny bit better. You lift me up with your positive messages and with the stories you’ve shared. I know I’m not alone in this journey and I am thankful that I can lean on so many of you. Your presence in my life is a gift and I can only hope that I can be that gift for others, too.

So if you ever need help untangling Christmas lights, both figuratively and literally, I am here for you.

life

Choices

A Graceful Catastrophe

The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.”

-Viktor E. Frankl

The origins of this quote stem from an entirely different reality but hits home with me nonetheless. Life is simply a series of choices.

Choice is an extremely interesting concept and I think many of us forget exactly how much control over our lives we really do have. We paint the lives we have with our choices every day. It is up to me, and no one else, how I decide to see my world. And for a long time, I chose to focus on the negative in my (ex) husband, so that became the world I lived in.

Because I chose to focus on all of his faults, all of the ways I was treated disrespectfully and hurtfully, all of the times he was either emotionally abusive or manipulative – or both, I painted my (ex) husband as someone who didn’t deserve kindness, much less love, in return.

Every day, for so long it makes me feel uncomfortable, I painted this extremely detailed world – one where I was the victim. I was unloved. I wasn’t enough. I, perhaps with no conscious effort, chose to self-sabotage my marriage.

Those are strong words. But I’ve been nothing but honest here, completely transparent, especially with myself. That’s been my choice of how to process a world that was filled to the brim with lies. I am doing constant and intense self-reflection. When a catastrophe hits your world, there are obviously many ways to handle it. I have chosen to spend a lot of time looking within.

When I chose to take my (ex) husband’s attacks personally, when I chose to react with something so far away from compassion that it hurts me to think of the person I was, I was allowing my world to self-destruct. At any given time, I could have chosen to respond with a gentle, caring heart.

Okay, but really, do you know how hard that would’ve been?! I was quite sick, basically at the level of “functioning adult” and not much more, and was being berated for being an awful wife. I was the butt of the jokes when we hung out with other people. I was humiliated and embarrassed, both publicly and privately. The things that my (ex) husband said to me in in the safety of our home and during our arguments, simply put, cut me to my soul. It would have taken intentional effort to respond with compassion. And I was so exhausted and hurt.

But here’s the kicker. I am so exhausted (emotionally) and hurt now. The pain cuts so deep now, far deeper than it has the last 6 years. I have the same baggage as before – not feeling “enough” – but it’s become sharply intensified since March 17. Yet, despite all of this, I am choosing to live with kindness. I am actively choosing to not react to his anger and hurt and jealousy. I am giving grace. I am doing today what I actively chose not to do before. Every single day, I intentionally choose to treat my (ex) husband with the grace and compassion he doesn’t deserve. I didn’t realize it during the last 6 years, but my choices actively destroyed our marriage. Well, they at least aided to the collapse.

Well, now our marriage is over. Shattered. Completely wrecked. And all that’s left are the people involved. And people deserve grace – even when they don’t.

So now, when my (ex) husband is angry, or hurt, and has the apparent need to lash out, I, rather willingly, become the (figurative) punching bag. I let him throw all the low blows he desires. I barely blink as he says all the things, as he throws words and phrases at me that are laced with so much venom. Because now, I understand how to not take those words personally. The toxicity pouring from his mouth comes from a place so deep inside him that he has no clue where to even find it. It comes from so much childhood and adult trauma. It all comes within him and has very little to actually do with me.

Some of the times, living with the level of intentionality I am choosing to live with just becomes too much – and I mess up. The conscious effort it takes to live with grace becomes overwhelming and I find myself behaving in a manner that is far more how I used to respond to things, rather than how I actively want to respond to them now. Old habits are hard to break and it takes all of the intentionality I can muster, all of the conscious thought and effort, to respond how I want to respond. Sometimes the knee-jerk reaction is still there.

But when you know better, you do better. And now I know better. So I am doing what I can, moment by moment, to do better.

I choose, at every opportunity that I consciously remember to, to give grace. To live with true kindness in my heart. To approach the current relationship we’re in – one now as coparents – with the compassion I consciously refused to give for the last 6 years of our marriage. To be the punching bag.

By leading with grace and kindness, I am actively choosing happiness. By understanding this has so very little to do with me and so much to do with him, I am capable of forgiving him when he chooses to attack me. By consciously self-reflecting, I remember that my choices were not always coming from a place of love and my focus, for so many years, was destructive.

When you know better, you should choose to do better. Today, I choose grace, therefore, I am choosing happiness (and I do strongly believe that happiness is far more choice than it is emotion). Every day, I paint the world I live in with my thoughts and I now refuse to focus on the negative energy that was my focal point for so long.

We must be careful with the choices we make. And we must remember how much control over our choices, over our world, we really do have.

I will actively choose happiness, grace, kindness, and compassion, especially in the moments where those are the hardest to muster. Because I choose to live in a world that is filled with rainbows and butterflies. So that is the world I will paint by choosing my thoughts intentionally and carefully.

We must choose our thoughts and actions wisely. We must be careful to avoid helping to create the catastrophe. And if it’s too late, if catastrophe is already upon you, if your world has already imploded, as it has for me, then choose grace moving forward.

We cannot always choose what happens to us. We can, and absolutely should, choose how we react and move forward. Give yourself grace and especially give it when others don’t deserve it.

life

Happy Husbands Don’t Cheat

A Graceful Catastrophe

UGH…

This weekend has been filled with, well, just moments of “ugh.”

I have not had much grace. I am not being a good friend to him. I’ve been so sad. And the hurt just feels like it has been hurting a bit more these last couple of days. It’s honestly been so hard to keep it together and I’ve had several moments where it was impossible.

When my (ex) husband is home, and he’s being humble, filled with regret, and, therefore, kind, things feel “normal” and normal is super confusing to me. Sometimes, though, when he’s home, he justifies his behavior and utters my newest most hated phrase: “Happy husbands don’t cheat.”

Excuse me while I go rage out and break my other hand…

He traveled last week for work and was only home for about 11 hours between Friday night and Saturday morning before leaving for work again. Eleven hours, most of which were overnight, also happened to be sufficient time to trigger the heck out of me. And rather than respond with grace, I handled it with sarcasm, anger, and bitterness.

*sigh*

I am not always strong, nor am I always the bigger person. Sometimes I am very human and petty emotions get the best of me.

Then he’s gone again, traveling for business. But now I know exactly what he does when he travels for work. While I fully (logically) understand he is no longer my husband, I still struggle with his actions, though I now have no right to, since we aren’t really married anymore.

So it kind of all just breaks my brain. And my heart? Forget about it.

On Thursday he comes home again. Just in time to help me with our daughter’s birthday party, where we will entertain her (our) guests, together, like we have for the last 8 birthday parties. Except this time will be our last time. Next year, he’ll have his own place and I will host by myself. He’ll merely be a guest.

We’ll officially be a broken family.

God, that sentence hurts.

Logically, I get that we weren’t happy. We hadn’t been happy for a long time. There were many times where we barely liked one another – and it was obvious to the both of us. In a lot of ways, we’d both given up on the marriage.

But we’d started seeing a marriage therapist. I was working on changing my mindset, trying to focus on the good he brought to my world, rather than all the little (and big) ways he annoyed, hurt, and angered me. I was seeking advice on how to make our marriage work from anywhere I could get it. I wanted our marriage to work.

He didn’t.

The bottom line is that he wanted to do something so terrible that it would make me stop fighting for our marriage. He wanted out. I can’t help but continuously feel that I wasn’t worth fighting for. Our family wasn’t worth fighting for. And when he justifies his actions by blaming me, a very tiny part of me believes him. Because our marriage was really difficult.

Then I snap out of it. It doesn’t happen for long – me believing him. But then I get so mad for allowing myself to be manipulated that I end up handling the situation quite poorly. And then I feel guilty!

Ugh!

So, then I apologize because I am supposed to be living my life with grace. I am supposed to be understanding and forgiving. These are the bars that I have set for myself. This is how I am supposed to behave because it’s honestly the way I want to behave. It’s easy to respond with grace and class when he’s being humble and apologetic. It is so very, very hard when he convinces himself that I pushed him to cheat.

Because, he tells me, happy husbands don’t cheat.

*Deep breath in. Long, slow breath out.*

I believe I am on this path purposefully. I don’t believe that anything happens to us by accident. And it’s very obvious that I need to practice the act of giving grace to those who don’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of grace. He especially doesn’t deserve it when he utters the stupidest sentence I have ever heard.

So, I continue to have opportunities to practice. I’m not great at it yet. I’m not even mediocre at it yet. I’m actually quite poor at giving him grace when he doesn’t deserve it. Which means I’m sure I’m going to be presented with many more opportunities to practice being kind, understanding, compassionate, and forgiving. This is my chance to grow and be a better human.

I want to be a better human. So when he comes home on Thursday, I’m sure I will get an abundance of chances to practice giving grace and I will try oh, so very hard to embrace them.

I have to remember that he is broken. Anyone who believes the sentence, “Happy husbands don’t cheat,” must be tragically damaged. Whether or not he is going to work at fixing all of his broken pieces is up to him. It’s only up to me to give him the grace he doesn’t deserve.

So that is exactly what I will try to do, in between taking deep breaths to calm the rage inside when he says stupid things.

I know that one day, some beautiful day sometime in the future, I will be happier, and it’ll be because of this journey. Until then, I will make a conscious effort to embrace the low moments, remembering that it is through this pain and adversity that I will grow.

Mindset is everything and I have to choose to see this catastrophe as a gift he has given me. Seeing it through any other lens turns me into someone I don’t really care for and while I get that it’ll happen every now and then, I don’t have to live in that space. I refuse to.

This weekend has been challenging. That’s just the way this chapter is going to go. There’s no getting around crappy days. As I sit back right now, finishing up these last few sentences, and taking a deep cleansing breath, I’m ready to try to move forward again. Despite having all the reasons to hold onto my anger and hurt and disappointment, I will consciously move forward with compassion and grace for him.

For no reason other than I want to be better. I want to do better.

And so I will try my best, in all the moments, but especially the ones that are awful, to give grace to the man that believes, “Happy husbands don’t cheat.”

life

The Wave

A Graceful Catastrophe

Not even 2 hours before I started writing this, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a glimmer of happiness in my eyes, a speck of hope. As I walked past the mirror just now, before sitting down to write, I just saw pain and hurt staring back at me.

Depending on when you talk to me, I’m having a great day, an okay day, or a difficult day. And all three could occur (and have) in a matter of 20 minutes.

I think the most difficult part of where I currently am in this journey are the triggers – especially since I don’t know what they are or when they’ll hit.

Tonight, I came home from Target and we were both in the kitchen, making a snack. We talked about watching something together on T.V. I was in a great mood and so was he. And then he made a joke, which, while under “normal” circumstances would’ve been harmless, it wasn’t at all a joke to me. It triggered me and I began to quietly spiral.

For the next hour or so, I played this movie in my head, filled with imaginary scenes I concocted as thoughts of his indiscretions rained upon my brain in a sudden downpour. He must’ve noticed because he came over and asked if I wanted to talk, or yell, or stab him with the fork I was using (he likes to make jokes when he doesn’t know what else to do).

I told him, with pain and sadness dripping from my voice, that this was just part of the process. I ride the wave. If grief strikes, or anger, or loads of disgust, I try to feel every bit of it. I have to. I don’t dare stifle the emotions, or try to bury them, or else they’ll surely continue to haunt me, years into the future. And I definitely don’t want that to happen.

You see, I fully understand with my logical brain that I am on a roller coaster that has no end in sight. I feel like I have embraced this; I am on a journey at sea and am at the mercy of the waves. Sometimes the sea is calm and in those moments, I feel legitimately strong, hopeful, and happy. Other times, though…man! It’s like I’m riding through the craziest storm. I mean, we’re talking Cat 5 hurricane. And my poor boat is being rocked so hard that I don’t have a clue how I’m even holding on. How is it possible that I haven’t yet drowned?

I’m exhausted at times, so emotionally drained, just from hanging on.

And that is okay. I am perfectly fine being broken right now, picking up my pieces one by one and learning how they will now all fit back together. I will not be okay still struggling to find peace with all of this years down in the future. Now is the time to face it and deal with it, so I can move forward with a newfound strength I still don’t fully realize I have.

And so I workout. I write. Sometimes I talk. And a lot of times, I just process alone.

And I ride the wave.

*This was written at night on 4/22/2019, but then I fell asleep. *shrug*

life

Fault Lines

A Graceful Catastrophe

Today was a pretty good day. I chose my mindset when I opened my eyes, though the first hour or so was still pretty difficult. I’d had a dream last night that my (ex) husband and I were getting back together. Just as he was pulling me in for a hug, it all hit me and I pulled away quickly with the sad realization that we could never be an “us” again. And then I woke up.

I only slept about 4 hours last night but barely felt tired today. This is new for me. I used to be chronically ill, filled with constant pain and incredible fatigue. I’d sleep 12 or 13 hours and never feel awake or rested, then I’d have to go teach middle schoolers their math lessons, then come home and try to function until I’d finally collapse at my daughter’s bedtime, sometimes still fully dressed in my work clothes.

These years, where I was a “bad wife,” are thrown in my face as the beginning of the end. It’s hard for me to hear that, though I know I was a pretty terrible wife then. I just had nothing left in me. While I felt immense guilt, there was nothing I could do. For over 4 years I saw doctor after doctor who ran test after test. Eventually, they chalked it up to stress and implied it was all in my head. I was barely hanging on and then on top of that, felt awful for failing miserably as a wife, which I was reminded about. Often. It was my fault.

Fault is an interesting concept. On Earth, faults form as the Earth’s crust deforms due to stress (according to Quora here). In my world, fault was assigned due to stress. Being married to someone who has an invisible and mysterious chronic illness is not easy. It’s hard to understand. And when that someone is like me, someone really good at bucking up and faking it when needed, it just doesn’t look all that bad. So, from the outside, compassion isn’t really necessary, as nothing appears all that wrong. It just ends up looking a lot like a wife that doesn’t care.

Fault lines are surely different sizes, I’d imagine. The greater the stress, the greater the divide. My world now has a fault line so great, nothing could bridge the gap. But it didn’t start that way. My world now has 2 sides, the before and the after. The fault line has been steadily growing wider, year after year. I naively always thought it’d be passable. With time and effort, a strong enough bridge could be built and the memory of the gap would fade.

The thing about these fault lines that we all have is that most of us remember the exact date the bridge crumbled because the gap finally widened too far. It splits our history into the before and after. There’s no going back, nothing to unite the two sides once again.

I have two world-shattering fault lines that irrevocably transformed my life and a new me had to be defined. I survived the first, though it wasn’t pretty and many mistakes were made. I know I’ll survive this one, too, and hopefully with a lot more grace and a lot less mistakes along the way.

Take a minute and think about your world shattering fault line(s). Who were you before your world shattering news? Who are you now? Can you define several new strengths you now have, thanks to having to stare down that stress?

I was talking with a friend tonight and she’d mentioned how she compared her position in life, battling with her own earth shattering catastrophe, to those lives she saw on social media. It upset her and quickly led her down the “why me” path. She’s not alone. People do that all the time because a simple truth is forgotten: we all are weathering a storm. Coming with that reminder, the realization that life is easy for no one, she commented that she wishes life would just be easy.

But honestly, where would that get us? Life is not meant to be easy. We are meant to be challenged. We are meant to constantly grow and adapt, to discover new strengths that can only exist after trudging through the worst catastrophes.

So, I remind myself, and any of you who may need it, of two very important things:

  • we are all battling a storm, desperately trying to not get struck by lightning or be carried away by a tornado, and
  • if we do get lost in the storm, fried by lightning, buried in an avalanche…we are all strong enough to get out.

Like I said, today I’m in a good place. My mindset is focused on the good. While I’m not a huge fan of the situation I’m in, there’s nothing else I should do but focus my energy on becoming a better version of myself as I work through it. My first step along the way was to have a little impromptu mini funeral for my old self, while standing at my dining room table. The old me was pretty great and I was sad to tell her goodbye.

However, this mess with my (ex) husband is giving me an opportunity to learn how to eventually be pretty darn incredible, to be an even better version of myself. I have been given this catastrophe as an opportunity to self-reflect, to chat with my trusted and wise community, to learn how to do the seemingly impossible with grace and class. Today, I am using this challenge to change me for the better.

Over the last 3 weeks, I’ve stumbled and fallen into the depths of the fault line. Today, I’m starting to climb out. I may stumble and fall deeper again, but one thing I know for certain is that I will fight and claw my way out onto the other side. I’ll stand tall, in the bright sun, in a world filled with rainbows and butterflies once again. It’s surely going to be an exhausting journey. But in the end, it’ll be worth it.

Because my daughter is worth it. And because I am worth it.

And so are you. So, if you’ve fallen down into the profound darkness of your fault line, if you’re at all being blamed for the catastrophe you’re in, or if you’re blaming yourself, take a breath. Seriously, right now, take a deep breath (I just did) and remind yourself that you are in this storm to grow into a new and improved, tough as nails, amazing state-of-the-art you. And fault has no place along that path. You absolutely are strong enough to climb out.

So, let’s all focus on the rainbows and the sunshine because they’re there, waiting to be noticed.

life

A Graceful Catastrophe

A Graceful Catastrophe

Google defines “graceful” as having or showing grace or elegance. Grace, in the way I am wanting to use it, is then defined as:

  • courteous goodwill
  • an attractively polite manner of behaving.

Catastrophe is defined by Google as:

  • an event causing great and often sudden damage or suffering; a disaster.

Despite suffering a pretty major catastrophe, with disastrous results, I am now choosing to live my life filled with grace towards others. Starting with my (ex) husband.

I didn’t get to this point immediately, though. I am currently typing this with a “boxer’s fracture” in my right hand. If you don’t know what that is, it is most commonly referred to as a break in the pinky finger, typically occurring after punching something.

You may not know me, so, let me quickly describe myself. I am an eternal optimist. I describe myself as being filled with rainbows and sunshine. I struggle killing insects – even mosquitoes. I am not, generally speaking, impulsive or violent.

However, the mind’s response is quite fascinating when presented with stress.

On March 17th, while at a dinner party for St. Patrick’s Day, a catastrophe struck in the middle of my heart. My home, as I knew it, was destroyed. I received an email from a stranger at 6:08 pm, telling me my husband has been leading a double life for over 6 months. See, he’s a stereotypical traveling salesman, who decided that turning to Ashley Madison was the way to fix an unhappy marriage. In a way, he was right. He is no longer in an unhappy marriage because we are no longer married. (I mean, we haven’t quite sorted things out to be legally separated, but that’s strictly a technicality.)

The rage and fury within was something I didn’t realize I was capable of, and, to be perfectly honest, I thought that extent of emotion was only real in movies. On Day 4, I lost my ever loving mind. I went into a complete blind rage (that’s totally a thing, by the way). I hated him with every cell in my body and in that moment, I wanted to hurt him. Like, really, really hurt him. I thought about attacking him but somehow ended up punching a column in the kitchen a few times instead. I didn’t really realize what I was doing. I actually don’t really remember much about those moments. He’d said something that triggered me and that was the end of any rational thought.

So, I broke my pinky bone bad enough that a few days later, I had surgery. I now have a significantly bulky cast on my hand that happens to slow down typing tremendously. *sigh*

But, a curious thing happened. My rage is gone. My hate is gone. And it happened instantly. Punching the wall, breaking my hand, was, simply put, cathartic. All the anger, rage, and fury flew out of my body through my fist. Immediately after it happened, I literally felt flooded with an inner peace. It was incredible.

I’ve heard that the people who least deserve grace are the ones who most deserve it. My ex-husband does not deserve grace. Yet, that is exactly what I am choosing to give him. He is still the father of my child, who is a sweet and innocent bystander in this catastrophe. She’s watching me and is ridiculously conscious of my every move. While she doesn’t quite understand yet, my actions are showing her how to handle pain and trauma. How to respond to those that hurt you. Revenge isn’t the answer. And surely hate only hurts the one who harbors it.

Love is always the answer.

I am hurt, disappointed, and awfully sad. Someone is going to cause my daughter to feel those exact emotions. How do I want her to handle herself when that time comes? I know one thing for sure, I definitely do not want her spinning into a blind rage where she becomes someone, even momentarily, that scares her. I don’t want her to realize she’s capable of such dark and ugly thoughts. I want her initial response to be that of grace and compassion.

So that is exactly what I am showing her. I’ve learned so much about myself in the days since March 17th. Some of which scared me and shook me to my core. Who knew I was potentially capable of such evil? Is that living deep within all of us?

It may have come about 4 days late, and my broken hand is an undeniable part of my story now. Though I believe it is there as a conscious reminder that I have to intentionally choose to live through this catastrophe gracefully. This deliberate way of living is for my daughter just as much as it is for myself.

We all have choices as to how we handle the difficult situations life throws at us. Please be sure you choose wisely. I will, too, as I will now consciously choose to live life with grace and class…(and muscles. But that’s for another blog. *wink*)