Tag: trauma

life

731 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

731 days. That’s a big number. That’s a whole lot of time. 17,544 hours.

2 years.

It’s been 2 years since I found out that my ex had cheated on me. Some of you may be thinking to yourself, “Oh, my goodness, get over it already.”

But you see, I am. That is not the point of this blog. This is an anniversary date. One that will always be remembered, but there is no more pain, hurt, or grief attached to it. This is merely a moment I am using to pause and to reflect.

Just like I would on my birthday. Or any other milestone anniversary.

You’d think that a lot of lessons could be learned in over a million minutes. 1,052,640 minutes to be exact.

And it’s true. I have learned a lot. And at the same time, I have been just as naïve as ever. I believed what was told to me…which I am learning is just about the dumbest thing. Nobody tells the truth. Nobody is completely raw, vulnerable, or truly authentic. We are human and we will always protect ourselves first. And people always have something to hide, thoughts they are unwilling to voice.

Today, a song lyric popped into my head. 

"...the day the music died."

That’s today.

The music died today. Today I realized that “truth” is a figment of my imagination. “Truth” is only as valid as the belief system of the person delivering it. It’s all to be taken with a grain of salt. It’s all based on perspective. One person’s “truth” is based on how s/he perceives the world. There is no such thing as “truth,” really. How naïve of me to have believed that people are able to ever be fully honest with others – especially if they cannot be fully honest with themselves. Some pain is too devastating to face. So you lie to be able to live.

Then, in some rare flashes, when a truth is screaming to surface, it becomes impossible to stifle even a moment longer. It’s funny what comes to light after being suppressed for so long. It’s funny how people lie to themselves in order to live in this imaginary world they’ve convinced themselves is reality.

It’s funny how I’ve continuously lied to myself in order to live in a world I desperately wanted to believe in.

But life is no fairytale. I know this better than I wish I did. I have been continuously lying to myself to construct a world I hoped existed. I convinced myself it did. I truly believed it did.

I listened to the song (it’s American Pie by Don McLean, if you didn’t recognize the lyric earlier) on my drive home – twice. It’s a long song, about 7.5 minutes. Another lyric popped out, “Do you recall what was revealed the day the music died?”

A lot was revealed 2 years ago. A great deal more was revealed today. Actually, today probably symbolizes more to me now than that moment I received the email 2 years ago.

All I can do is continue to reflect, continue making the difficult choice to grow. Though, my perspective today is vastly different than it was even yesterday. Experiences change us. Time does, too.

I’m finally beginning to see the world as it is, rather than as I’d hoped it was.

I’m at the point, after 2 years of growth and reflection and experiences and pain and trauma, of just truly abandoning anything I believed to be a self-truth, and simply breathing in and out and being. Nothing really matters – and I don’t say this with sadness, but with logic. In the long run, nothing really has the weight on it that we initially perceived.

Edward Zander’s quote has been my mantra for the last 2 years. “It’s never as good as it feels, and it’s never as bad as it seems.”

2 years ago, I learned the back half of that quote. Now, I’m learning the first half.

In the end, it never feels good for very long. It doesn’t feel terrible for very long either. It just is.

Over a million minutes gone and so much time spent reflecting and growing. As we all know, there is no comfort in growth. And as I know, I’ve been uncomfortable for far too much of my life. I’m ready for comfort. I am ready to be comforted.

And I hate St. Patrick’s Day, it is truly the most uncomfortable of all days.

life

21 Years

A Graceful Catastrophe

It feels like a lifetime ago, and I suppose in many ways, it was. It feels like it was so long ago that it simply shouldn’t matter anymore.

Yet, it does.

After 21 years of life, a person undergoes an incredibly substantial transformation. A person goes from the rather incomprehensible and mind boggling transition from tiny bundle emerging from the womb to adult human, capable of making such important decisions as, which shot am I going to take as my birthday shot.

21 years is a lifetime.

Last night, in the wee hours of the morning, marked 21 years since an event occurred that fundamentally changed who I was. I thought I was “me” again. I thought that I had mostly healed and returned to the woman I knew I once was, when the light came back on – both literally and figuratively, about 11 years ago.

That is, until last night.

Last night was the first August 1st that I have spent alone since that night in 1998. When that hit me, it kind of shattered me all over again. Last year, the 20th “anniversary,” was difficult in its own way because, while my husband at the time was indeed laying by my side, I felt lonely. I wrote my first blog that night and it felt really good; I felt exceptionally strong, though undeniably lonely, despite his warmth next to me.

This year, I, thankfully, did not feel lonely, as I was texting with a friend that lives out of state. Our conversation brought many smiles to my face and I am so grateful I had that. He has no clue of the gift that his presence and insightful conversation provided me.

But I was still alone.

For the first time, in 21 years, I spent that night all by myself.

I don’t know why that fact affects me so – but it does. I suppose, perhaps, it’s because I didn’t have the option of a shoulder to lean on, someone to hold me, and remind me that I am safe, if I wanted one. And I did want one.

But that’s my job and mine alone now. I remind myself that I am strong. It’s up to me to wrap my arms around myself and tell myself how resilient and fierce I am. I just have to believe it.

Sure, I have friends that do the same, but on a night like last night, I just would’ve appreciated something a bit more. And I no longer have that, because I no longer have my husband. Truth be told, I didn’t have him last year either, but at least then I wasn’t alone.

So if wrapping my own self in love and self-care is now my reality, then I shall embrace it.

I just don’t want to today.

Dealing with the reminder of the date, the event that occurred, compounded with my current reality, makes today one where I’d rather just crawl under a rock.

Luckily, it has been a busy day, and I’ve smiled and done my best to put on my game face while I worked. But make absolutely no mistake about it, my heart has been heavy all day and tears were shed in between clients.

Hell, tears are falling now.

The swirling of pain just seems to get worse. And then, I guess there are moments that are better. It’s an ebb and flow, I get it. Today, though, everything is mashing together in a way that has taken me completely by surprise.

Everything about August 1st has always been heavy. Its weight is barely endurable this year. And the absence of someone to lean on, for someone to hold me and give me the love and respect that I didn’t receive that night, makes today suck a whole lot more than it has in a long time.

I have nothing uplifting today. No words of inspiration to end with. Just the somber reflections of a burdensome past coupled with a really shitty current reality and writing it all down gets it out of my head, at least.

So, thank you for reading. And maybe even for embracing me from afar. And I have to tell you, I am so grateful that August 1st only comes but once a year.

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, 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

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, Uncategorized

90 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

As I write this, it’s two days shy of 3 months since I received an email that completely and irrevocably changed my world. It’s been exactly 90 days.

When I left my first husband in January of 2008, a lot happened in those first 3 months. A lot of fun was had and life was carefree. Then, by early April, I was in an exclusive relationship with future ex-husband #2.

I can’t even begin to imagine trying to be in a relationship at this point. I mean, come on, let’s be real… I can’t think of ever being exclusive with someone again, but for sure not after 3 months! I was with my first husband from late 1998, when we’d started dating, until early 2008. Almost 10 years together. And just a bit more than three, short, insignificant months later, I was already in another relationship.

Ex-husband #2 and I were together almost exactly 11 years. I didn’t choose to leave him so the way this is going down is significantly different than with #1. My feelings, my heart, my everything, really, is completely changed. The way I perceive life has been catastrophically altered. After #1, I still believed in love. I still saw the world through a set of beautifully romantic lenses. Perhaps that’s why it only took me about 3 months to be in a relationship again.

There’s an interesting parallel that’s beginning to develop between the end of this marriage and marriage #1. After just about 3 months post leaving my first husband, I was ready to calm down some and re-focus my energies. It just so happened to be in the form of a new relationship with now ex-husband #2. Today, early this morning, a feeling from deep within started bubbling to the surface. I’m undergoing a bit of a transformation, something feels slightly different now, in how I’m approaching life and how I see the world around me.

So much has happened in 90 days, yet I still wonder who I am and I constantly question what I believe. I have moments of sadness that are so great that even breathing feels like an impossible task. I have super low lows and also pretty magnificent highs. And the rest of the time it just “is.” I run through the motions. I take care of my daughter. I workout and hang out with friends. We laugh. I cry. Some days, the moments range from feeling quite “normal” to catastrophic to incredible. All within hours of each other.

For example, yesterday was such a day. The morning was great. The afternoon was filled with sadness and I felt like a zombie, simply going through the motions. Then the evening was one of my favorites I’ve had in the last 90 days. That’s a lot of emotion to process in just one 24 hour period!

But that’s also the way it has been, day after day, one after another, strung together now for 90 days. There’s just so much emotion to process in each 24 hour period. And it’s been exhausting! I’m seeing hope on the horizon, though, that the sea is about to calm significantly, going into these next 90 days. I feel something shifting within and I’m curious as to where it’s going to take me.

I’ve learned a lot, I think, in the last 90 days. Mostly, about people. People are inherently good. I’m no longer afraid to talk to a stranger or go to Target after dark or sit by myself at a restaurant or bar. Literally, guys, these were things I didn’t do because the fear was so all consuming. I catastrophized and feared so much that it stifled my life. Now, so many of those fears and hesitations no longer exist. I’m becoming far more confident in who I am and in going after what I want.

Unapologetically.

I’ve spoken with more random strangers in the last couple of months than I probably have in the last 10 years total. And the freedom to just connect with other humans is so beautiful! It has opened up my world. I’ve experienced things that I normally wouldn’t have ever even tried before. I’m being introduced to new music, food, drinks, places…all because I have stepped out of my comfort zone (okay, I was thrown from it) and I’m creating a new comfort zone. I am free to reinvent myself and to explore life in a way I never have before.

It’s energizing. And exciting. And liberating.

On this journey of reinventing myself, I’ve had to do an insane amount of self-reflection. And over the last 90 days, I have reached some hard truths. I realized, finally, that I lost myself for a while. I threw myself into being not only a mom, but the best mom there could possibly ever be. I also was incredibly sick for years and, man, living with a chronic illness really changes you. And then, all of a sudden, I was this person who was not me. She just wasn’t Katrina. But nobody could’ve told me that. I would never have believed it.

I know that I was a big problem of why my marriage sucked. It takes two, for sure, but in talking with someone tonight, it hit me that I probably started the negative cycle we were stuck in by not reaching out and getting help after my daughter was born. I blamed myself for her traumatic birth and lived with that for way too long. I put my husband on the back burner because he was not a helpless little child that almost died because of his mother’s stubbornness. He was a grown adult who didn’t need me.

But he did. And it surely wasn’t fair for me to treat him like an afterthought. Not only did I just not know any better, it wasn’t a conscious decision. I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. So he struggled, of course, with being an afterthought, and that also changed our dynamic. He wasn’t understanding or compassionate towards me. I viewed him as selfish – didn’t he understand why I couldn’t be anything more than a mom to this helpless little girl? But of course he didn’t understand. It is very difficult to understand irrational behavior and my behavior was exactly that. Like I said, I needed help. In those moments, though, I didn’t think I did. Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?

So here we are. 90 days later. The actions of our pasts are permanent and irreversible. We can be sorry for our parts we played and also understand that somethings are just too great to come back from. My ex’s cheating and lying for so long – that betrayal – is far too great to come back from. It changed me to my core and has made me question everything I thought I knew or believed.

It also put me on a path towards a new sense of freedom and discovery. There are no expectations, limitations, boundaries, and, most importantly, no fear. It’s incredible how much fear and worry I had. How it snowballed, too, and magnified my fear. And it’s even more astounding that it’s *mostly* been erased. I think it’s because everything I avoided out of fear was to keep me from being hurt (physically or emotionally).

I’ve now been so deeply hurt that I literally can’t put it into words.

The pain is truly indescribable. There isn’t much that could make me feel lower than I have in certain moments over the last 90 days. So my attitude and approach towards life is now just so free of concern. Because nothing (pretty much) will ever hurt this bad so why not take the risk and go for it? If I end up getting hurt, it still won’t be this bad, so it doesn’t even matter. To know that I am rising above this pain means that I am capable of rising above whatever adversity is thrown in my direction.

Well, except when we’re talking about that “r” word. That’s something where I am making a conscious decision to avoid at all costs. I’m surely not ready to consider being in a relationship. I may never want to go down that road, to be that vulnerable again. That’s pretty much the only thing that could make me feel this low, so out of self-preservation, there isn’t much need to be in a relationship. Ever. Well, that’s how I feel today. That level of connection is just not anything that needs to exist in my world. And I don’t want it to.

But I digress… Back to rising above! I think part of the shift I’m feeling today is that I’m focusing more on the positive life changes that my ex’s actions are bringing me. I’ve never felt more confident. I’ve never realized the strength I have within. On those extremely difficult days, I still survive. As exhausting as it is, I take a breath…and then another. I’ve survived through incredible pain that stems from a betrayal so deep that it’ll be a long time before I process all of those layers.

For 90 days now.

I’ve done a ridiculous amount of self-reflection. I mean, really looking at myself. And I have no regrets about who I am becoming. I’ve learned that I can be exactly who I want to be and that this moment, right now, is the only thing that is real. I’ve learned to live in moments, not days, weeks, months, or years. I’ve learned to let go of expectations and just be. I’m open to try things I never would’ve before. I’ve learned that living out loud is the most freeing and wonderful way to live.

Life is difficult. For all of us. Every single one of us has something we’re going through. If anything, I hope to inspire you all to live out loud. Unapologetically be who you want to be, even if it differs greatly from societal pressures. This is your life and you are free to pursue your happiness as you see fit. And you definitely do not have to live according to tradition or society’s rules. That is far too stifling and you end up losing yourself. Live in the moments of life and actively seek out those moments that make you smile as often as you can. Don’t worry about what tomorrow could bring – just be. Right now is the only reality that matters. It’s the only thing that exists.

At least, that’s what I am doing. And because of the freedom to live out loud, unafraid and uninhibited, I have had wonderfully fun experiences and have met more interesting people that I never would’ve even made eye contact with before. By living life this way, by being on this path (thanks to my ex’s betrayal), I feel more alive than I have in a long time. And I’m now incredibly aware of how much I missed out on due to the grip of fear controlling me. My ex has done me a favor, honestly, by causing me to hurt so deeply.

I am no longer afraid. Truly, there is no better gift I could’ve ever been given. Who would’ve thought that I would’ve looked at his infidelity as a way of shaking me awake so I can live the life I want to live? 90 days ago I don’t think I would’ve called this betrayal a gift. Now, though, I feel as though it has empowered me. It has granted me permission to live an uninhibited life. It truly feels limitless.

So in this moment, I am now looking forward to the next 90 days. Who knows who I’ll be by then? What I do know is, whoever I am, I’ll be happy.

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

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.

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

When the House Burns Down

A Graceful Catastrophe

The other day, I was chatting with a dear friend. I was updating her on the most recent news of this catastrophe when she said something that absolutely hit home. She said, “When you burn down the house, you don’t have a say in what happens to the ashes.”

Today, I was talking with another dear and wonderful friend. I was also updating her on where my mind is and she came up with this analogy. If you’re drunk driving with your best friend in the car, and you get in an accident where the best friend is killed, you have massive amounts of guilt and emotional trauma to deal with. And you also go to jail. There are consequences for actions, no matter how badly you may feel about your actions after the fact.

A month ago, when I was visiting a friend out of state, one of her friends helped me create an account on a dating app. Since then, I have gone out on dates with 4 different men, 2 of which were a complete bust. The other 2 dates were wonderful and we’ve gone on more dates since. If you’d like details on those dates, I’m more than happy to share them with you. I am telling you this for two reasons: 1.) I am not ashamed, and 2.) my ex’s verbal and emotional abuse no longer have power over me. I have been threatened by my (ex) husband that he is going to tell everyone what I am doing so I just may as well beat him to the punch and take away his power. He cannot control me anymore. *shrug*

I am choosing to live my life – my single life – as I see fit. My ex is no longer a person I know, nor trust. He’s a stranger to me. Yet, in many ways, he still behaves in all the ways I recognize – as just tonight he showed that ugly side of himself to me again. He tries to manipulate me with his words and his physical presence, he tells me that he talks with girlfriends of mine who, behind my back, are judging me and supporting him. While I am glad he is being supported, his attempts at manipulating me by using my friends, fall upon deaf ears. Whatever world he is painting, I no longer have to be a part of, and I’m completely shuttered off to him.

He no longer has power or control over me – and it’s destroying him. I think he has always equated love with emotional manipulation. It was how he was raised. He knows no better. He doesn’t understand why I won’t stop what I am doing and just give him a chance – even though I tell him repeatedly that I do not believe his words are genuine. And his actions back me up.

Tonight, I was threatened in a number of ways and every time I told him that he was threatening me, he appeared clueless. My ex is spiraling fast, and is trying so hard to take me down with him, but I am stronger than that.

I am thankful for my girls, my constant stream of support, that help me process my emotions. For years I fell into my ex’s manipulative traps. Now, when I feel myself starting to fall for his angry and manipulative attempts, I have my girls to sound off to, and they remind me of who I am.

I am strong. I do not owe him anything. And I especially do not need to give him my time when it is spent with him attacking me and trying to manipulate my feelings. Stressful situations help people reveal their true colors. For the most part, I have chosen to live life through this catastrophe with grace and understanding. While this blog might be filled with a bit more drama than it is grace, I felt I need to lay it all out there. I have friends dealing with guilt and emotional manipulation and I’m sure many more of you are, as well.

If you dealing with any negativity, hear my words. You owe nothing to anyone, not even your time. You do not need to put up with any guilt trips, any attempts at emotional blackmail, any attacks to your character. You are doing the best you can with the cards dealt to you. Own your strength and shut down the other person’s negativity by being completely shut off to it – do not feed into it! If you do not acknowledge it, you do not give it power. Tell the other person, over and over, that they no longer have control over you and you will not be manipulated anymore. It is not your problem how others react to your behavior.

It is not my problem how my ex chooses to respond to my behavior. I am being upfront and honest with him, answering all of his questions with truthful statements. I am not betraying him. I am not attacking him. I do not lie (daily) straight to his face. We are here today because of a complete disregard, by him, of his vows, and his family.

On March 17th, 2019, at 6:08 pm, my marriage broke. It ended. I no longer have a husband and haven’t for just about exactly 2 months now. It’s been 8 and a half weeks. The man I once thought I knew, the man I desperately tried to see, the one that was loyal and honest, stopped existing then. And the one I see now, the disloyal, manipulative, selfish, willing to do and say whatever it takes to get what he wants person, is now in his shoes.

And he wants me to be friends with him. This “new” guy my ex thinks he is wants me to contemplate a future with him. He says he wants to fight for us, to fight for me. And in the same moment, barely a second later, he threatens and verbally attacks me.

Interesting why I wouldn’t be open to being vulnerable and giving that guy a second chance. *eyeroll*

I refuse to be vulnerable. I refuse to indulge him by being a willing participant on his roller coaster ride. I refuse to be emotionally manipulated and verbally attacked.

I refuse.

Our broken family was not caused by me being unwilling to give him a second chance. Our broken family was caused by his selfish and narcissistic behavior. Our broken family was caused when he decided to join Ashley Madison and sleep around on every business trip he went on rather than put in any honest effort into making a failing marriage work.

He burned down this house.

Now I’m cleaning up the ashes in the way that I see fit.

Perhaps I am emotionally closed off – not only to him, but to others as well. I am riding my own roller coaster ride and am incredibly vulnerable from one second to the next, as I deal with the messy residue staining my life. I surely do not need to make myself vulnerable to a man who continues to attack and abuse me.

I am stronger than that.

So, if you have any opinions that you’d like to share as to how I should be cleaning up the ashes of my house that was purposely burned down, please, share them with me. Also understand that in doing so, I may close myself off to you, too, to protect myself.

I will not allow myself to be attacked by anyone. Ever. Again.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to go wash the soot off my hands.