Tag: pain

life, love

Basking in the Shit

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

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

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

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

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

I’m so sick of hurting.

I’m so sick of being triggered randomly.

I still want to run away.

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

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

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

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

But…I feel it.

And I think that’s progress.

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

Almost.

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

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

That’s where I was yesterday and this morning.

That’s not where I am now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One Breath at a Time

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

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

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

But this next month just makes everything worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life

Synchronicity

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life, love

Exit 147

A Graceful Catastrophe

Exit 147. Race Rd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am strong.

I will rise up.

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

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

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

Like Exit 147.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life, love

Suffer Patiently

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fear faced…and conquered! *huge grin*

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

Whatever works for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am ready to forgive.

And I’m ready to suffer patiently.

With class. And grace. And muscles. Again.

life

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

The Phoenix Begins to Rise from her Ashes

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’ve been struggling a lot today. Well, for the last 2 weeks, really, but today especially. The weather is crap and that surely isn’t helping. My gym is closed on Sundays, so I didn’t get to workout, though I think I may go for a run when I’m done writing. Or go have a drink. A run is healthier but a drink sure is yummier! (*Update: I opted for a nap. It was quite lovely.*)

It all just feels so empty. And I feel so sad because of how afraid I am to connect – like, really connect – with someone ever again. The idea of a future like that, while super safe, just feels so lonely. And it’s just that I don’t know how I’d ever trust anyone again. I don’t want to let anyone in; I don’t see how it’s worth it to let my guard down and be vulnerable. But maybe that’s the only way to combat the emptiness…

So, are those my options? Have superficial fun, never get hurt, and feel a bit empty inside? Or let someone in and put myself at risk to feel extreme trauma and pain? Because to me, now, love is synonymous with pain. The two go hand in hand.

They always have. So why wouldn’t it always be that way?

Guys, I can’t ever feel like this again. This anguish and turmoil, this colossal, life and soul altering catastrophe that’s changed everything I once knew…this has to be a once in a lifetime thing, right? But there’s no guarantee to that. This could absolutely happen again. People cheat and lie. They betray. They are selfish and awful. They convince themselves that their awful behavior is justified in some way. And I’m not just talking about my ex. There is a ton of evidence that this is exactly what people do. It’s naive to believe otherwise.

But, one thing at a time, I suppose. There’s not a whole lot that matters past how I’m feeling today, right now. And, again, today sucks. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I just want it all to stop. Without really realizing it, I’ve buried my pain, for the most part, for the last 84 days. I ignored it and focused on being angry. But it’s getting harder to ignore. And it’s been far more noticeable at home.

My ex ended up getting the house and we told our daughter yesterday that she’d be living in two homes. Her response? “Eh, I knew this was coming.” That was it. She didn’t even care. She literally said, “Eh.” I mean, come on!

And I think I know why. It’s been so toxic in her home for the last 2 weeks that I think this was a welcome relief for her. I hope that it will be a welcome relief for me, too. Though I also think it’s going to force me to face my reality that I’ve been trying so hard to escape. And that scares me. I don’t know that I have the capacity to fully grasp the level of hurt that is in me. The few times that I have allowed this pain to surface – or, more accurately, that I haven’t had the emotional energy to keep it stifled – has been truly debilitating. It’s paralyzing. It makes me want to stay in bed and just shut my eyes to the world. I become this, ugh, I don’t even know how to describe it…but it just feels empty.

I feel empty.

In this moment, it feels as though I’m never going to be able to get past this betrayal. Every time I look at my ex, I see someone who massacred who I was. Right now, in this moment, I feel like his actions have forever changed me and in some ways, that’s a phenomenal thing and in others, it’s just a pretty terrible thing. I know that eventually I will be able to move past what he’s done to me. Time heals all wounds, doesn’t it? I also know that I can’t move past this until I can make sense of it all. And none of this makes sense. This level of pain that I have living in my heart just doesn’t make sense.

So, to be perfectly honest with you, now that I am going to have a significant amount of quiet time, I’m pretty nervous about it. I’m going to be forced to confront exactly what I’ve been trying to bury. I’m going to finally have to process this trauma. And I don’t know that I have the strength within to do so. It just feels like way, way too much. It’s layered and intertwined and invaded my soul. The shattered pieces are far too small to collect, much less put together.

But, as I write these words, I feel a spark within. If I can’t reuse the old pieces to reshape my life, why not mold new ones? I have an opportunity to reinvent bits of myself. I can use this catastrophe to catapult me into a new and wonderful space. One that only existed in my dreams. I can chase down those dreams, unafraid now, because if I fail in my pursuit, it’ll still never feel even close to how I feel today. Tomorrow’s pain from life’s stumbles surely won’t compare to the utter destruction in my soul I have today.

So, perhaps my mindset needs to be that I now know the true “depths of despair” (thank you, dear Anne Shirley) and I can only go up from here.

Huh. I love writing. I literally am crying right now because I genuinely feel hope. I actually can tackle whatever life throws at me. Barring something horrible happening to my daughter (God forbid…), no failure in life would be worse to come back from than my current situation. If I can process this and figure out how to let my pain go, then I honestly feel like I could conquer anything.

I feel like something incredible just happened. I can see the phoenix beginning to rise from her ashes.

Perhaps I will be okay, after all.

It’s all about perspective, right? Today sucks. No doubt about it. And very little could make tomorrow suck worse than today.

So, time to stop wallowing in the suck. I can honor that this sucks. Of course it does. I can give myself grace to feel this pain – no, agony, really.

But I will not give myself permission to let this jade me. I’m making that decision right now. I refuse to let the bitter taste of this betrayal linger on my tongue for much longer.

I may not know what tomorrow holds, but perhaps one day I will believe in fairy tales again.

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.”

life, Uncategorized

Screw It All

A Graceful Catastrophe

Screw it. Screw it all.

It appears that I have a breaking point.

It’s today.

My ex husband shared with me today that a “longtime friend” has betrayed me, too.

This is just one betrayal too many.

It has been an awful week so far, with so many stones thrown at me. I thought I was strong enough to hear his malicious words, spitefully attacking me…but I am not. Rather than let them bounce right off of me, I absorbed them. All of them.

Guys, I’m done.

I want him to hurt. I want to intentionally cause him so much emotional pain that it physically hurts him. He’s been accusing me of purposefully hurting him all the while anyway, so why not just lash out and do exactly what he thinks of me anyway?

The rage and hurt and frustration and anger have all reached a violent boiling point. It has consumed me. It is literally all I feel right now.

He has accused me of not giving him grace.

He believes, with every ounce of his being, the world he has painted. So I may as well jump in the painting and show him that reality.

I. Am. So. Done.

Living life with grace is for the birds.

My daughter can learn a different lesson.

One where a strong woman can fight back against the emotional abuse of a disgusting and broken individual. One where I don’t have to tolerate being spoken to with such venom spewing out of his mouth.

Amongst other vicious attacks, he claims I am weak because I don’t make enough money to support myself and my daughter or be able to stay in this home without his money (which I cannot, but it surely doesn’t make me weak!). He laughs that I have to turn to my dad for help.

I HATE that I have to ask my dad for financial support.

I HATE that this is the world I now live in.

I HATE that I can’t trust.

I HATE him.

He has thrown all the stones he can think of in the last two days to intentionally hurt me. And he won. He did it.

So now I’m done. I’m angry. And hurt. And sick to my stomach. And I can’t sleep. And, really, I’m just done.

He wins. He’s gotten inside my head.

He’s beaten me down.

I quit.

I have no desire to live life with grace or class or anything that gives him an ounce of kindness right now.

I mean, I’m nice enough to him in front of my daughter…but I am done when she’s not around. He doesn’t deserve it and I’m too exhausted to muster the energy to give it.

I’m not strong.

I can’t do this anymore.

Today, I am defeated.

It took just a bit over 2 months. Two months of trying to be strong. Of trying to be the bigger person. Two months of fighting for my sanity every single day. Two months of being on the worst emotional roller coaster I’ve ever been on.

Two months. And I’m exhausted. I just can’t do it anymore.

I hope it’ll get better from here someday, but for now, I’m sure it’s going to get ugly.

Because I don’t care anymore.

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. I care so much that I am so emotionally defeated that I can’t care anymore.

And definitely don’t care about him.

There is just too much to process. Too much pain. Too much stress.

It makes me physically ill. Drained.

He thinks he hasn’t been receiving grace thus far. I wonder what he’ll think of my new attitude towards him…? He has no clue, apparently, just how graceful I have been.

For the last 2 months, he’s been on the attack, throwing stones left and right. Calling me names. Some days were better than others. Some days we were able to finish out the 24 hours without a single stone being thrown. A lot of days have been an absolute living hell.

Oh, man, the stones that he has thrown in the last 2 days alone…

And, tonight, I finally threw some back.

And will continue to throw them.

Because I just don’t care.

It’s like he forgets what he’s done, the tailspin he’s thrown my life into, his daughter’s life… He takes no responsibility for it. Shows zero accountability. According to him, his actions don’t matter because I deserved it all. His actions are all justified because I was an awful wife. (And I was…because I retaliated for being treated awfully. We were stuck in a horribly sad, negative cycle.) But they aren’t justified and weren’t deserved.

“Romantic love” is stupid. Romantic love won’t exist in my world…not for a long time. Possibly not ever.

It’s just not worth it. It’s not worth this. When Alfred Lord Tennyson said it’s better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all was obviously not betrayed by people he thought loved them.

First, my husband. Now, at least one friend. I just can’t take it. It’s all slightly too much for me.

So, yeah, that’s been a thing. He talks with my “friends,” apparently. And my “friends” are talking about me behind my back. Awesome. I needed more betrayal in my life. More proof that nobody is to be trusted.

Fine.

Talk.

But could you at least be adult enough to tell me to my face what you think of me?

Because I don’t want to have to waste my time on you, too.

We’re all so old now. Grow up.

So, if you’re a long time friend, I guess you have to prove that you’re really my friend. And not talking smack about me behind my back. It’s going to be a long road.

Because now I trust no one.

I’m done.

I don’t have energy for nonsense.

And my life is filled with things that just don’t make sense right now.

God, I just want it all to make sense.

I want him to hurt as badly as he’s making me hurt.

So grace is gone. For now. Probably for a while.

So I can hit him where it hurts.

Intentionally.

Purposefully.

Like he did to me.

Over. And over. And over.

I’m so done.

Today, I don’t care.

About anything (except for, obviously, my daughter).

Because I hate him.

And it’s consumed me.

At least for today.

And for tomorrow, I’ll never forget. I am a changed woman. And he especially isn’t going to like the new me.

So screw living life with grace.

In the long run, it just doesn’t even matter.

We’re born. We die. Nothing in between really matters.

So, I’ll join him in his crappy little painting for now. Show him what this reality of his that he’s painted really looks like.

Because it is ugly.

And I have no more energy to try to paint rainbows and butterflies.

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.