Tag: grief

life

This is Real Life

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

Eating the Elephant

A Graceful Catastrophe

You know, there just isn’t any guidebook for how to deal with trauma. When you see someone going through something difficult, you sometimes *try to* put yourself in their shoes. Sometimes people make judgments on how the other person is responding or how they would do it differently. Other people seem rather fascinated and can’t even begin to understand how the person is coping “so well.”

In reality, you just don’t know until you go through it – and even then you have no idea how to process life.

For me, I’ve been processing by choosing to escape. I haven’t wanted to face my reality because the rare moments where I couldn’t avoid them were crippling. So I did what I could to bury it further. The pain from the discovery on March 17 has really, quite honestly, been impossible to bear.

But I think it was because I was trying to face it all at once. I thought I had to eat the elephant in one bite, so to speak. I thought I had to look at my pain, all of it, and try to process it as a whole.

That idea was beyond overwhelming. To think that I had to try and understand what was going on inside my head, to sit down and pick apart the betrayal and agony one layer at a time until it had all been chewed up and spit back out, was inconceivable!

But I thought that’s how it was supposed to be done. Just face your fears, right? Why wouldn’t the same idea apply to facing your trauma?

And do you know how absolutely and genuinely terrifying that is? And I mean “terrifying” by its exact definition: “causing extreme fear,” as Google’s dictionary says. “Extreme,” guys. Not just regular, run of the mill fear, but extreme. Again, thank you Google dictionary for defining “extreme” for us: reaching a high or the highest degree.

I had reached the highest degree of fear and was sprinting away as quickly as I could. I was never suicidal, thankfully, but I didn’t want to live this life. I wanted, desperately, to run away. So I could pretend that this wasn’t my reality. How could this be my reality? How could I ever trust again? There are, I’m sorry, were, two men in my life that I blindly trusted. My dad and my now ex-husband. How could he do what he did, day in and day out, for almost a year, all while coming home and complaining about what an awful wife I was? And let’s not forget about how he sat in marriage counseling and complained about how awful I was there, only to turn around and tell his Ashley Madison lovelies all about our therapy sessions.

Yeah, I wanted to run. Far and fast. How could that have been my life?!

At first, I thought I could handle everything with grace. Of course you should give grace to those who least deserve it. Well, that’s all fine and dandy when you’re in the denial stage of grief. There wasn’t a ton of grace to be given during the anger stage! I don’t know if you can see the hashtags on my blogs, but if you can, and you take a look back, there’s a definite moment where I stopped using the hashtag “living life with class and grace and muscles.” Because I was only living life with muscles.

I was angry a lot of the time, which I preferred to sadness. Sadness shut me down. Sadness made me want to hide under the covers and never, ever move again. Anger, though, anger made me feel alive! I could still laugh when I was angry. I could put up a front and live in the moment and feel free of my reality.

But, that’s not exactly the most healthy way to live…

Like I wrote in yesterday’s blog, there’s a distinct shift occurring within. I couldn’t pinpoint it yesterday but I can today.

The last 2 months, while wild and fun, have still felt empty. I have felt so empty and I have been trying, in vain, to fill that void.

But when the wild and crazy calmed down, I was left feeling emptier still. I’ve never done ecstasy or Molly but I feel like my last 2 months resemble what I’ve heard those highs – and lows – are like. From what I understand, when under the influence, you feel euphoric. But then when it starts to wear off, the coming down from it is one of the worst things ever.

That’s how my life has been. I have a blast going out with my friends, or going out on dates, but when it’s all said and done, my reality is that I’m still alone, trying to process a trauma so great that it has been both exhausting and crippling. And simply too excruciating to face.

There has been very minimal light and the darkness definitely won for some time.

But I had the most amazing session with my therapist Thursday of last week and he gave me permission that I don’t have to face my reality all at once. What?! I don’t?! Oh, my goodness, halle-freaking-lujah!!

Do you know that I felt about a million times lighter after that? I can just live. I don’t have to sit down and spend hours – or days – doing nothing else except focusing on sorting out all the emotions! I can walk through life and just live. And when something triggers me, I can feel sad. I can honor that emotion, that moment, process it for what it’s worth, and then move on. I don’t have to linger there and go deeper and try to understand how it applies to the 34 thousand other layers of pain. I can just process that piece. I can eat the elephant one bite at a time.

Life. Changing.

Friday night was like my grand farewell to the last 2 months. It was probably the wildest, most uninhibited night I’ve ever had. And probably the most fun.

Saturday morning I awoke with a distinct shift in my mindset.

I want more.

I don’t want to feel empty anymore. I also don’t feel the need to escape anymore. Now that I know I don’t have to swallow this elephant whole, I am no longer terrified.

Guys. I am no longer terrified of my reality.

I fully understand what this means for me…it means that I can finally begin to heal.

And that makes me smile.

As I write this, it is June 17th. At 6:08 tonight, while I was out with my girls for dinner, I hit the 3 month mark exactly.

It makes me laugh to think it’s only been 3 months. A lifetime has occurred in these last 3 months! And I’m sure I’m in for a million more changes and ups and downs in the next 3 months.

There’s no doubt my mindset will continue to flex and change as the time progresses. If nothing else, I give myself permission to continue riding this wave, to allow it to guide me through this next phase. At least now, I am facing the challenges ahead unafraid.

This elephant will be eaten – eventually. And I’m giving myself permission to do so one nibble at a time.

life, love

Square Pegs Just Don’t Fit in Round Holes

A Graceful Catastrophe

This whole chapter of my life is so stupid and I can’t wait for it to end. It’s filled with ups and downs and it’s incredibly draining. I cried during Aladdin today, for Pete’s sake. My daughter, saying nothing, simply wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder until my tears stopped. She’s so used to seeing her mama cry that she knows exactly what to do and that just sucks. I just want to press fast forward on my life…

But I can’t. I know I have to learn from this. So, I have a strong desire to try to process this logically because my emotions are all over the place and just make no sense. I look up the stages of grief almost every day. Just so I can see where I am in the process. Honestly, it varies tremendously from one moment to the next. There are days where I hit all 6 stages. Seriously. In the same day. It is exhausting!

I am exhausted.

With every bit of my being, I just want to move forward. My ex is currently trying to buy a house so he can move out. When he’s here, the roller coaster is so filled with twists and turns that I can just about barely hang on. I try to hide inside of myself, shut down completely, so I can whether the storm of his presence with as little trauma as possible. It doesn’t usually work. Which is why he needs to get out of my space and into his own.

So, until then, I fake it until I make it – or I just go work out as much as I can. *shrug* Working out makes me feel different types of exhaustion and pain, ones that makes sense. And my community there is incredible. The gym is, quite honestly, my happy place.

Outside of my gym, my community is also so strong, priceless, really. Some of them, however, I have been actively avoiding. Those in my community that also know my ex are harder for me to be around. With them, somehow, both the pain and the confusion increases. And I have to face my reality. Which I really do not want to do.

Right now, all I want to do is escape. And you can’t escape around people who knew your previous life. Or perhaps you can, but it is so much more difficult for me. So, my dear friends, I love you, I want you in my life, and sometimes it’s just too difficult and bizarre to be around you.

God, an escape would be so welcome right now. There’s a music festival in Germany at the end of July that I’d love to run away to. There’s this company called Active Escapes that creates vacations where you also have intense workouts and I’m pretty sure that would be my dream vacation. There’s a vacation through that company to Greece on July 5th. I’m pretty sure I’d give my left kidney to attend (kidding…kidding…not really…). I wish I could just go away until this chapter has ended. I want to flip the page.

I am so ready to flip the page!

And perhaps I am close. I feel like I might be able to flip the page after he moves out. I have no idea what is written on the next page. I have no clue if I am forever changed and jaded or if, once this pain is further in the distance, I’ll care again. I wonder if I’ll ever believe in love again. I’d like to turn the page so I can start figuring out who I am now.

Because I’m most definitely lost. I know that I am. And I also think it’s okay to be a bit lost. My world violently erupted and in an instant, his actions – the magnitude of his betrayal, unraveled me. It was catastrophic. I need to find out what I believe in. I want to discover where my energy is taking me and who it’s attracting – or pushing away.

The more I go through this process, the more interesting I find our energy and the universe and how it all works together. I am finding that anything that is supposed to be on our paths will be easily attained. I mean, perhaps you still have to work hard, but it just flows naturally. There is no “square peg, round hole” feeling.

My marriage felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Trying to buy a car a couple weeks ago felt like I was jumping through all the hoops to make it work. Until I let it go. Then, a couple days ago, I had an extra hour so I went to buy a used car, on a whim. It was just easy. Everything came together effortlessly. I’m learning that if it requires *too much* effort, then I just need to let it go. It isn’t meant to be on my path.

Life should be easy. In ways, so much of my life has been easy. And in other ways, I’ve been challenged in ways that should’ve broken me. And perhaps they did. I think I have been shattered a time or two. And I also think, ultimately, I’ve come out stronger in the end. I know I’ve been shattered this time. I hope, once this is a part of my past, that I will come out even stronger, once again.

I was watching a movie with my daughter the other day. In it, one of the characters had been hardened against love to protect herself from the pain. It was pointed out to her that that was a weakness. It wasn’t her being strong, and fierce, as she’d thought. I cried… In my defense, that scene just hit a bit too close to home.

I’m hardened against love. I have no desire to be loved, romantically speaking. Not because I don’t want to be loved – of course I wish to be loved! – but because in order to be loved, or to give love, you have to let your walls down. Become unguarded. I’d have to bulldoze my castle and all its protective measures that I solidly have in place. And when you allow yourself to be that unprotected, you’re too close to feeling incredible pain. It’s a very fine line. As history has proven, time and again in my world, romantic love assuredly leads to pain. I honestly thought that guarding myself was a sign of me being strong. I am protecting my heart, after all. But this movie reminded me that vulnerability is a sign of strength. *sigh*

I’m not ready to be vulnerable again. Not yet. But it still makes me sad. I’m so devastated that this is the life I’d prefer. But for now, it genuinely is. Nothing about being in love or being loved is appealing. I can’t see myself in a relationship. I see myself strong, independent, and single. Until I’m a little old lady. This is the new future I see for myself. So I’m grieving that, too. I’m grieving the lost part of my soul, the one I’ve buried in order to protect myself from the immense pain that loving someone could bring. That loving someone does bring.

Every single time I’ve loved someone, it’s ended in pain. Since my first love as a child all the way to now. How is that worth it? Honestly, it’s not. So, as strong as I want to be, perhaps I am just this pitiful little soul who now refuses to be vulnerable. Nah, that isn’t true either. I know I’m strong. It’s just that I don’t need that kind of love in my life – the one that inevitably ends in pain.

Give me fun escapes. Give me all the friends in the world. Give me familial and friendship love. All of those are wonderful and long lasting. And my track history shows that.

The proof is in the pudding, as they say. Romantic love, in my world, is fleeting and ends in a flame of fury. Every. Single. Time. To hell with it. And to hell with the vulnerability it takes to allow romantic love to occur. I’m obviously not strong enough to let my guard down.

And honestly guys, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Yes, it makes me sad, but sadness doesn’t make it wrong. I can travel with friends and have great, genuine fun with friends. With no expectations for anything. Do you know how freeing that is?? So if it takes strength to be vulnerable, I’m okay being weak there. I am strong in a thousand other ways.

So, I guess the overall message here is to just do and feel what you believe is right in the moment. No judgments that it’s not socially acceptable. No beating yourself up. No worrying that it’s not where you thought your path would take you. If it goes smoothly, then that means it is the right decision. You’re meant to do exactly whatever it is that you’re doing. If it causes stress in your life, if you feel like you’re putting in way too much effort to make it work, then let it go. If it’s right for me, I’m learning that it aligns beautifully and with ease.

And I’m going to start listening to that more. I’m going to be consciously aware of the amount of effort it takes for something to exist in my world. A little effort is okay. It’s probably even good. After all, challenges help us to grow. And the universe surely understands how much growth my soul requires.

Difficulties are acceptable. Some pegs may take a bit more effort, but they’re still the right size and shape. They still fit.

On the other hand, I don’t think I’m going to insist that a square peg could ever fit in a round hole again. Some things just aren’t meant to be and while it hurts to let it go, that is exactly what must happen in order to continue moving forward. Forward progress is always the goal. If I do get stuck in my life again, as we all do from time to time, wasting effort and time trying to make something fit that never will, I hope to remember this advice for myself.

If it’s on my path, the energy will flow so easily that it’s actually beautiful. Square pegs don’t fit in round holes. They just don’t and never will. I know that now.

life, love

In Spite of the Ache, I’ll Rise Up

A Graceful Catastrophe

This whole grief cycle is stupid. I’m so super completely over it. I’m finding that the ramifications of my ex cheating on me for almost a year has caused so many more layers of hurt than I initially even realized and they are all sandwiched in anger and disbelief and frustration and so, so much sadness.

What’s interesting is that the sadness, right now, isn’t coming from the marriage ending. I’m too logical to pretend that it didn’t completely suck for a long time.

What I am really struggling with is that I know my world view has been completely altered. I honestly, today, right now in this moment, believe that romantic love is an illusion. I believe that familial love is a thing and I think you can feel it with your friends. A deeper sort of affection and connection with family and those that feel like family. I think that’s ingrained in us at the cellular level.

Romantic love, though, has got to be a joke. In the last few days, I’ve heard about two more women whose husbands cheated on them with multiple women, one dear husband was also a fellow Ashley Madison user.

Everyone has a story. Woman after woman and man after man have come to me with stories of relationships ending due to infidelity.

Romantic love is like that faint smell of beautifully blossoming flowers that you catch for just a moment in the summer breeze – and then it disappears and you wonder if you’d imagined it. It’s there, so distinct, so strong…and so fleeting.

I don’t ever want to love like that again. And I don’t want to be loved like that again. It isn’t real. And if it is, it is fleeting. It is there one moment, so intense and beautiful, and then whisked away in the next. Only incredible destruction is left in its wake.

Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to that level of vulnerability?

That honestly just feels like such nonsense to me.

I know I’m still processing through this pain and I am fully aware that my thoughts vary depending on my emotions, depending on how I’m painting the world in that given moment.

In this moment, based on my own life experiences at age 38…and those of my parents, friends, and strangers…romantic love is a sham. It’s been proven to me over and over and over again. It’s a sad, horrible joke. It’s short-lived…momentary.

And once it’s gone, terrible things can happen. Lives are forever altered. Perceptions of the world that is being lived in have to be re-created. The world is no longer the same.

My world is no longer the same.

I am no longer the same.

I can’t decide yet if that’s good or bad or if it just is. I’m leaning towards it just is. It is my reality.

I don’t think I’ll ever again look at anything the same as I once did. Everything is different. Well, the way I view it is different. I suppose it’s the same world. I am just wearing different lenses now.

Surprisingly, I do have hope that this new world I live in will be beautiful for me. It does make me sad that I am no longer the romantic soul I’ve always been. It makes me sad that I genuinely have zero desire to be loved in a romantic way ever again. I’m mourning the fact that I no longer believe in the fairy tales and romance stories that have always grabbed at my heart. It’s all just fiction.

But what is real are people and moments and delightful moments with those wonderful people. It doesn’t need to be any deeper than that and to think that it does is a societal joke. I no longer care about the future, I put absolutely zero stock in it. It doesn’t exist and it never will. What exists is now. And I laugh plenty now. So many of you make me feel so special now. I am deeply loved by you. And I know it. Because I feel it.

I have a playlist on Spotify that started when two of my close girlfriends decided I needed music to go with this chapter of my life. I have since added to it and I’m really liking how it is taking shape. Music is so powerful and these songs are doing a phenomenal job at summarizing my current state – and helping me make sense of it all.

These are lyrics from one of the songs my girlfriend recommended. The song is called Rise Up and it’s sung by Andra Day. I actually frequently cry when I hear it because it hits me right to my core.

You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains

And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousands times again

The next line is “For you.” But I’ll rise up a thousand times again – for me. For my daughter. I’ll rise up every time I fall. Every time I feel broken. Every time I feel hopeless.

I’ll rise up. I’ll walk it out. A thousand times again. Though, the “unafraid” bit is a struggle. I think that is there for the long haul. I’m far too afraid to be hurt and betrayed like this again. I won’t allow myself to be vulnerable. This castle is secure.

Which makes me think of another song on my playlist: Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.

Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life
Because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid

I know this song was written for a completely different situation, yet it fits – for the most part. Because of my ex’s actions, I’m now extremely guarded. And I just want to forget everything. But I’m absolutely not ashamed of my life. It isn’t empty. And the way I now am choosing to live it isn’t wrong. Though there is a void where romantic love used to exist and that void will remain. I no longer know how to let in anyone in that capacity. And even if I could remember, I’m much too afraid.

Despite that, most days, I am happy. Genuinely. I am fulfilled. My community lifts me up – you all help me walk it out. You, all of you in your variety of roles you play in my life, you fill my life with joyous moments. You make me feel loved and special and like I can make it through another day. You fill my life with meaning.

This journey feels as though it will be a never-ending roller coaster ride. A constant struggle. But I am not one who stays down when she has fallen – I am far too stubborn for that. And so, “I’ll rise up. In spite of the ache. I’ll rise up. And I’ll do it a thousand times again.”