Pottery and Willow

In the United States, pottery and willow are the two traditional symbols of a nine year anniversary. The willow is flexible, symbolizing harmony. Pottery represents moulding and shaping into something of beauty over time.

What a poignant reminder of the 9 years since that night.  It’s been 4 years since I wrote here.  So much is the same and yet so much has changed.

The most change has been me changing me.  Deep beneath the surface, to my innermost core, I have healed.  Not only the trauma this blog has chronicled, but all of it: childhood, family, mental health … I set about to understand and unpack everything.

And I am unmistakably different: unafraid, confident, happy, settled.  I embrace true and love-filled emotional response in every aspect of life.  I will never be grateful for what happened, but I am thankful for the good I have experienced since. 

Happy birthday Hoodie.  You love you ❤️‍🩹

Wood

Hello hoodie ... It’s been a while. 2019 marks five years since an end and a beginning. Five years of growth and strength. Five years of life that have been more full and happy than I had the capacity to hope.

I have a message for 5-year-ago me, and it goes something like this

Dear anxious, sad 2014 me -

It’s okay to cry as you read this. I was certainly crying when I wrote it. I still cry when I think of the headspace you are in. You don’t believe your therapist when she says you’re brave, but you are - more than either of you know.

In 5 years’ time you will have become okay with knowing yourself and with letting others know you. Trust will not come easily for you, and you’ll try. You will talk to strangers and share your story in times that it is helpful. You’re better able to discern between real friends and fake. That gut instinct you often ignore? Listen to it.

You’ll spend a lot of time alone. At various points you’ll date. The Steves are a phase, in some cases a hilarious one. Date when you’re ready. Don’t date when you don’t want to. Answer questions about it however you want. Also, when men are rude on dates, you’ll think about leaving. Leave every time.

You will have a lot of decisions to make over the next 5 years. And you’ll tackle each one in the best way you know how. Give yourself space and grace to make mistakes. You’re going to make them anyway - get used to it.

Don’t fret about whether people like you. Some do, some don’t. Learn from people in both camps. Stay away from people who don’t like your face. Same for people who say they don’t care about you. Chances are good they are personally miserable and you don’t need that, nor do you need to try to fix them.

Some advice for when you finally live alone (in about 2 years) - Try to sleep. Buy a sofa. Buy a trash can. Remember to wash your hair. Hug your people and call them often, especially the ones you think you’ve lost.

You just started dancing and you feel awkward. The awkwardness won’t really go away, but keep dancing - especially alone in your kitchen. Go to all of the dancey things you can. You have no idea how many significant interactions you will have because of it. You’ll put tens of thousands of miles on your car, and thousands of miles on your shoes. Right now you have no idea what a Swingout, dance exchange, or the Shim Sham is. You will. And you’ll love it all.

Over the next 5 years you will cry a lot. You’ll also laugh hard. You will do both at the same time. You don’t even know. It will hurt but you will heal.

At times you’ll swing too far into aggressive self protection. You will hurt people. Acknowledge when you’re wrong and make things right again.

You are valuable though you think you’re not and you have a very full life ahead. Run toward it (oh yeah, you enjoy running!). Keep living, lovely. You’re worth it. The most important thing for me to tell you is that I love you.

Love,

Contentedly happy, still sensitive and strong 2019 me

Today’s song: “Somewhere Only We Know,” Keane

Happy Birthday, Hoodie

It's been a long time since I wrote here ... over a year. This month marks the anniversary of this blog - and of journey of life changes it captures. As I've read back over those earliest posts, I am amazed at the level of pain I feel in the words ...

It was an awful situation, with a bunch of crummy options. I wouldn't wish that situation or those options on anyone. But given what I had, I chose the actions that, at the time, seemed best. Time has told me that when I chose to remove myself from danger and pain, I chose well. When I put myself (personally, physically, and emotionally) in danger because of an ideology, I chose poorly. But, looking back, I don't fault myself for choosing the paths I did. I didn't know where each choice would lead and, given some different variables, unknown at the time, any one of my choices, when coupled with choices in the same direction by him, could have led to an incredibly redemptive outcome. Instead, the series of both of our choices, but ultimately my own, has led me here, to precisely where I am now.

I appreciate the learning and growth I have experienced as a result of having made the decisions I did, and the events that followed. I have a more active and positive view of the power of my decisions, the impact of every relationship I choose to have or not have, the inherent worth of myself as a person.

Some of my decision making over the past two years has centered around addressing several physical health issues through changing diet, increasing exercise, and adjusting sleep habits. I take responsibility for what I put in my body and what I choose to leave out. I push myself to set and reach goals for exercise and training that 2-year-ago me would never have thought possible. In general, I feel great!

The impact I feel from each relationship I have has also shifted drastically. I used to say that I was completely invested in all of my relationships. First, this was untrue (from a math perspective, it's simply unrealistic), but, more importantly, it came from a lack of self-knowledge and self-love. I was less discerning about how much of me each person I interacted with got ... which meant, for me, that I trusted no one with anything of value. Now, I trust a few people with a lot of me, and am open to sharing my story with anyone who will benefit from it. I actively start and continue healthy relationships - even if, at times, the unhealthy parts of me are afraid to connect. I know how to end relationships and revoke trust, and I don't apologize for it. I've given myself the freedom and space to feel my worth as a person - a fully developed, functional, emotional, intellectual being. With healing has come a rediscovered self as a quietly confident, aware, accepting person unhampered by repressed emotions.

Am I better for my path? No. I don't think people become better and worse - only more developed versions of who they are. For the path I have followed, I am stronger, healthier. I'm more empathetic and less conclusory, slower to advise and faster to listen, more self aware and less self absorbed. I am more discerning about who I consider a friend and what I share. I am more confident in my decisions and willing to take ownership of them. I feel like I am still on the road, but coming to the end of this particular journey. Understanding that my past colors my perspectives and will cast both shadow and light on my future, from here, it's time to look forward.

Happy

10 months ago, I acknowledged that I was not feeling much of anything. If I were to label something I might have felt it would be that I was sad. Basically just sad. 

Then started the long, slow journey toward coming to grips with the lonely, painful life I had been living. I had to be honest with myself, which is sometimes hard to do, about some rather tough stuff. I also had to make some life changes - often in the blind - that I could only hope would lead to a better place than where I was. I focused on one big issue or goal at a time and kept "Finding Happy" as a hopeful goal for the future. And, to be truthful, I often forgot about it. 

Recently I met up with some long time friends. In talking with them about the ups and downs of the past months, I realized that somewhere along the way I found happy. I don't know when I found it, so I have a few thoughts.

I never truly lost "happy". Happiness is an emotional response. It's inside. I can't actually lose it. But I did turn off happy. And every other emotion. For a huge portion of these past years my emotional responses were dulled so I could cope with pain. It meant I didn't feel all the weight of sad that I was harboring, but also that I couldn't feel happy. It's not that happy didn't exist, but that I couldn't readily identify it as a feeling separate from anything else.

Happiness is not something that can be found outside of me. If I say "if I do x I will feel happy," that's a momentary human emotion response to stimuli. In those times of enormous pain I look to distractions ... stuff that fills life up with emotion-evoking moments in hope that they give a burst of "happy" to carry me through the wreckage of the rest of an emotionally dulled existence. Doing fun things is not wrong - in fact having enjoyable pastimes is important. But true happiness is more visceral than that. It is core. I can't expect that I would have core responses to momentary emotional highs.

Happiness - and every other emotion - needs space and time to be fostered. I am a complex, fully emotionally developed person. I might have three emotional responses to the same situation or stimulus. In a period of life where the weighty, life changing stimuli came in waves, I am not surprised that I went into overload. But I didn't stay in overload. I made proactive choices to go about doing things and engaging with the world around me in ways that are healthy, open, vulnerable, and thoughtful. I became more organized with how I spend my time and with whom. I gave myself bandwidth - space - to truly feel about what I am doing rather than just doing. I avoid toxic interactions and dive into healthy ones. I make conscious decisions about nutrition and exercise. I acknowledge my experience in this world is precisely that: my experience - that I am free to share with others or keep to myself. 

At the beginning of this this year, I decided that if I were to have one overarching theme it would be "Finding Happy" and that the way to do that was first "Finding Feeling." I gave myself space and time to feel again, and then one day realized that "happy" was one of those feelings. 

Attitude

I truly appreciate having wise and caring people around me who will engage me in gentle but corrective chats when I need them. Recently, I have been reminded of the difference between feeling and attitude. 

The way I know to articulate this is that what I feel is the emotional response to something I take in. My attitude is the emotional undergirding of what I give back. This distinction matters.

The first, feeling, is my natural response. It's not something I can control and shouldn't be something I dictate. And, in truth to myself, it is healthy to have feelings along a broad spectrum of emotion. Happy, scared, excited, angry ... all valid emotions.

The second, attitude, is the heart behind the stuff people see. What they see is demeanor, posture, tone, etc. But, it's not enough to not look a certain way, I need to not be that way. I needed to assess the heart behind  what I am giving back. Not just what I say, but what I mean. Not just hitting the "right tone" in how I say something, but taking a look at what I mean to communicate. 

What I found when I looked at all this was that I didn't particularly like some of the attitude I had. I was a bit chagrined to realize that, under the umbrella of "I don't feel good," "I feel overworked," or whatever, I've been putting out less of the good stuff of relationships and more of the bad stuff. I'm not so far gone that I needed a complete overhaul, but I did need to recalibrate on some things. 

And I did .... It took a little while, but I got there. I'm on the look out for how I might need to make more adjustments, but, I think I'm headed in the right direction. And, as life and this wonderful heart and soul would have it, once I started adjusting what I was giving back to others, I felt better about what I was taking in. 

Anchor

When my world started to spin, two amazing friends helped anchor me on the steadily turning earth. They weren't overbearing or invasive in their attempts to support. Mostly they were simply available when I needed and could handle human interaction, which they engaged in with the watchful eye of people who can see the storm and who are mindful enough to know the person who survives it will be better on the other side. 

This summer I had the chance to become one such anchor to another friend. As I've watched his journey thus far, I've reflected a bit on the past year. It is strangely comforting to think that not only have I normalized, but that at some point I normalized enough to become someone else's anchor. With that notion came the realization that I am well - not I "will be some day," but that I am truly healthy.

Dark

Lately, I have been afraid of a dark place in my own mind. I am not talking about sinister thoughts but rather having no thoughts.

It's a memory gap. A period of time where I simply do not have recall. I know things happened during these months ... They are documented at work or in personal emails / calendar. But, on the whole, I don't actually remember them. And when I try to the whole period seems draped in a dense cloud of just ... dark. 

Fortunately or not, I know this memory shutdown was a part of my self-protection during a time that frightened and overwhelmed me.  And I appreciate my mind's ability to assess the situation, analyze it against my personal strengths, assign it a value, and do what it deemed I needed in order to cope. Psych 101 for the win!


Now that I am healthier, life doesn't hurt, and I feel like I can handle things, the realization that I went into that level of self-protection without even knowing it bothers me. But then, that bother is replaced by self-acceptance ... the idea that a large part of the 'acceptance' phase of grieving is me learning to accept me. So just now I am learning to work with what I have ... a dark place in my mind that I know is there - and maybe over time the cloud will dissipate - while I continue filling the rest with sunshine.

Today's Song: Dark Side by Kelly Clarkson

Fort

Today began as a day I wanted to declare a "bad day" and go hide in a blanket fort ...

Sometimes you just have a bad day.  But, you know what, today is not really a bad day at all.

I am nervous today because I have to see my ex in a professional capacity. I have the option to not go to that meeting, which I am thankful for. Or I can take my place in society and at the table, and do my job. 

I know nothing he could say or do today will hurt me, but I feel vulnerable, exposed. I hate that I still feel this way about seeing him. In general I don't think about him all that much and feel nothing about him, which is progress. But in this situation, he has power, knowledge. He's part of the "in crowd" and I'm an outsider simply there to observe. He is beloved and I am virtually unknown. 

I resolved a long time ago that I am not going to let the fact that I feel these awful things negatively impact my work. Of course, that's not always been the case. I have had bouts of non-productivity that surprised and baffled me. But I am pressing on, digging in, moving forward. I'll save my blanket fort for a better day.

Connection

This summer I spent a lot of time traveling: a self-guided driving tour of my beautiful home state, a week-long wander in a city far away, and several long weekend pit stops in between. I love the places I visited - each has a special memory attached to it. My favorite part of my journeys, though, were the human connections I made everywhere I went. I spent a lot of time with good friends, old and new, had several chance encounters that led to amazing conversations, and and also had quite a bit of time with my own thoughts. 

Through this series of long wandering talks, brief momentary encounters, and endless pondering I came to appreciate the value of people - and myself.  We all have hurts, fears, stresses, joys, and victories. Some people I talked to were scared, lonely. Others were exuberant, carefree. The former far and away outnumbered the latter, by the way. We talked about family, work, health, love, home ... basically anything anyone would talk to or listen to me about.

Sometimes I felt brave talking about my life. Sometimes I wanted to be brave for them as I listened to others talk about their lives. Most of the conversations I had weren't about giving or receiving advice - they were merely about connecting, each person having someone to listen to whatever needed to be said or heard.

I'm coming out of a long, hard to walk road with better sense of self and purpose, stronger, yet more vulnerable, aware of my surroundings and at peace.  In all the connections made, places visited, and memories captured I identified some areas I want to work on as I continue shedding the layers of "hoodies" I piled on my emotional self. I was reminded that I am not alone in my oh-so-human experience on this spinning blue and green globe and that connecting with others is life giving. 

Brave

I have never thought of myself as a brave person ... I am truly afraid of a lot of things. A year ago, I was given that descriptor and I have only recently embraced it. Here's some stuff I've learned about being brave ...

Bravery is not the absence of fear, but willingness to take on - even run at - the scary thing.

The idea of divorce brought with it paralyzing fears: Being unlovable, Being alone in life, No prospect of children, Not having money or stuff, Others' judgment / Losing friends, Moving away from my home, No longer owning property, Starting life over, and, generally The Unknown.

A year ago, I ran. I simply ran away. Away from the pain of an unloving and dangerous relationship, and toward a lot of unknown surrounded by a cloud of really scary stuff. And because I had not yet owned "brave," that's as far as I got. And I turned back. At that time I was not willing to take on the scary stuff of divorce.

Bravery doesn't always look the way we think it should.

In the moments that I am hardest on myself I look at one-year-ago me and I loathe her cowardice. I wish I had been braver. I was afraid - of all of the things - so I went back to what I knew ... Even though what I knew was pain.

Or maybe going back was brave.

In going back, I ran at the very thing that terrified me more than being alone ... My marriage. For six months I tried to make it work. I exhausted every part of myself trying to be in a marriage that was simply over. The sad thing is that he probably says the same things ... That he took me back and then he tried hard for six months but it didn't work. That's the hard thing about both marriage and divorce. Both take two people ... to happen or not happen. 

Being brave is noble, but it can lead to being broken. 

During that six months my attempt to try, to make things work, to be brave, turned into one of the most damaging periods of my life. Before then I had been an expert concealer - but during that time I became a liar. I lied to basically everyone - including myself - about my marriage and my emotional well being. Because that's what it would take. If my marriage was to survive, I would have to become someone else - a person I ultimately hated. And I became her. Horribly emotionally disfigured and unrecognizable. 

So, was I brave? Yes. But also broken.

Bravery in the broken times leads to restoration. 

If an object, or a person, seems perfectly functional, noone takes the time or effort to take it apart and rebuild it. Only when there is visible and functional brokenness do we work to rebuild - hopefully with improvements along the way. But this process requires vulnerability - and bravery - that few see. 

That's where I am. The broken pieces have been pieced back together and I am in a long healing phase. I am fragile ... but each day brings an opportunity to be brave and I take it. Sometimes little brave moments lead to little breakdowns, but the trend is generally toward a whole, healthy, happy person. And I have come to think of those paralyzing fears a bit differently ... not really scary at all:

• Being unloved does not mean I am unlovable.
• Being single does not mean I am alone in life.
• No children now does not mean none ever.
• Not having as much money or stuff is not the same as not enough.
• Responding to ohers' judgment with grace and poise earns respect and gains real friends.
• Living in a different space - that I don't have ownership responsibility for - is actually really nice. 
• Starting life over and, generally, the unknown means wide open possibilities.

I have become comfortable with "brave" as a descriptor for me ... I am brave. I hope to never again have to use my brave in order to survive a relationship. But I have it for all the other scary of life. Just in case.

Knowing

This week marks two years since the first time I knew

... that I no longer trusted my husband.

... that I was not functioning as a healthy person.

... that I would have to decide the type of person I am separate from the type of person he is.

... that I might end up alone.

... that it would hurt.

... that I would struggle through a long hard journey. 

... that I would survive and maybe, just maybe, be okay in the other side. 

This week I am remembering the pain but celebrating the healing. 

Today's song: The Middle of Starting Over by Sabrina Carpenter

Alone

I have recently rediscovered "alone." Just me, wherever I happen to be. At first it felt foreign, as though there should be someone else there. But not now. Now alone feels just as it is: alone. And it's not bad. I truly enjoy my own company. I crack myself up making jokes about the world for no one's amusement but my own. 

I am an extrovert, so I can't go very long truly alone before I start to feel wobbly. So while I enjoy the alone,  I also seek out people. I tend to look first to friends, but I also look for new people: I go places where I know no one and strike up conversation with complete strangers. I do it safely, with an eye and ear out for the creepier types. But I have found that a lot of other people feel alone too. And we aren't. Not really. We just have to find each other. 

... six

Since my last, also numerically titled, entry, here are a few thoughts -

1. I have found myself becoming more and more like the person I remember being before: open, communicative, wry, goofy. When I catch myself in a mirror or listen to myself talk, I seem much more like that person than like 1-year-ago me. I think that's a good thing. I've never been overly confident, but I have re-become more comfortable with who I am.
2. My ex has moved on to a new relationship. From an emotional perspective, I am okay with it. I truly hope he finds the things he wants - and I have come to accept he simply doesn't want them with me. Related, I also no longer feel the need to avoid seeing him. For a time I couldn't believe what had happened and wondered when I would wake up from the nightmare. So I actively avoided him - because everything hurt. Now, not because I am in denial, but precisely because I am not in denial, were I to run into him, I would be simply unaffected.
3. I am in a good place to move on as well. I am still figuring out me ... but I also am open to if someone else wants to figure out me. The day I realized this I was surprised - because the thought of doing life with anyone else - in any capacity - had previously brought up raw hurt and pain so I simply stopped thinking about it. Now the hurt seems to be nearly resolved ... most days ... and I am in a good place. But, and this is just me - I am super curious about what kind of path may lead to what's next. I don't like the idea of 'looking' for a person - going fishing in a pond full of a random assortment of fish hoping to find one particular kind just seems silly. So I really don't know what will happen, if anything ever, but maybe something.
4. I no longer feel I'm living in hiding and part of moving on will be to write about other things. I will likely post emotional check ups like today and I am glad I did this - in fact I am glad to have this space to feel my way through. But I am also glad to be done with it. I am looking forward to writing about basically anything else.

Five

Five months ago I had the hardest conversation I have ever had ... The one where I finally said I could no longer try to accept his behavior and where he said he would never change. When people ask when I got divorced, that is the day I think of.  Because it was the day there was no going back.

I think he believes I went into that conversation wanting a divorce. Not true. I went in desperately wanting him to want to stay. I wanted for him to be willing to be healthy - or, at minimum, simply acknowledge that he wasn't. I wanted for him to believe our marriage was worth more than his embarrassment ... That I was worth more than his pride.

But I knew then and I know now that he didn't. He didn't want me more than he wanted to be comfortable. He didn't want our marriage to be healthy more than wanted a non-marriage that appeared healthy. He didn't want to try to be happy except in a world that simply didn't include me.

Before that conversation I was able to tell myself there may be hope ... He may change. I may become stronger. We - the actual "we" - can get through this. But no. There was no "we." Only he and me. Separately. Broken.

And that's when my heart broke - shattered - into at least a million pieces, each a tiny crystalline reminder of the utter worthlessness I felt. I had, unfortunately, wrapped up basically all of the collateral on my personal value in him. So when he was no longer in the scenario, I literally didn't know what to do or say. The parts of me I could perceive as having meaning were all taken directly from him. I basically had ceased to exist without him. But I also knew I had to continue down the road ahead of me. And that I would need do start believing other things about myself. 

I left that particular Starbucks on that particular day knowing that I was alone and that I would be required to work out what that means. But that, at some unseeable time in the future, I would become  healthy and - dare I say it - happy.

I'm not sure when it happened - and it probably wasn't because of some big thing, but one day a couple weeks ago I woke up one morning and felt good - like a person, good. Happy - lots of happy. And healthy.

The first part of this year was awful with the occasional appearance of something fun. But I am turning a new leaf. Rounding the corner. (Insert your groovy metaphor here). Am I ready to take on the world? No, not really. But don't count me out just yet. I will get there.

Outloud

I am not the first, and I won't be the last, to use an online forum to write about writing in online forums. Obligatory acknowledgement of this aside...

Because we have Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, as well as associated or stand-alone messaging systems, it's easy to feel connected to a lot people ... Sometimes more connection than actually exists. I've spent some useful time this week divesting my online social profiles of references to him, and, along the way, taking a fresh look at who I am online. More on this later, but I am really excited about the idea of re-establishing myself.

Done

THIS CAUSE was heard by the General Magistrate on a Simplified Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. ...

The marriage between the parties is irretrievably broken. ...

It is ADJUDGED that ... The marriage between the parties is dissolved, and the parties are restored to the status of being single.

DONE AND ORDERED

Hearing

Today is the day. The day we go to the court and tell a magistrate it's over. Finally.

I reached out to some friends who have been where I am to ask what they did on this day in their lives. Their answers were as varied as they are, which speaks to this process being different for everyone.

I have come so far these past few months. I finally feel healed physically and emotionally. Ready to move forward with life. This journey forward will likely have its share of hard moments, but I have come to know and appreciate that I can handle them.

I decided that the best way I could spend today, and the upcoming weekend, is with people I trust having good conversation and some much-needed fun and relaxation. I am looking forward to it!

Today's Song: Mean, Taylor Swift

Healing

Today was the last day of the divorce recovery group class. It wasn't an awful 13 weeks ... but it wasn't great. A lot of people in the group just want to feel better. I want to be better. But in many ways, it was helpful. It was good to know other people in similar situation. Sitting around the table helped me gain perspective, empathize even during my own pain, and hope for better for all of us. One of the discussion leaders, a lovely woman, gives everyone a word descriptor at the end of the course. Mine was healing. Apt, since I needed both physical and emotional healing time through this process. And I do feel like I have healed ... or am on some kind of decent path. The timing of this particular course was rather perfect as the final hearing is this week. I feel like I have closure now. Moving forward.

Notice

Today, I checked my mail ... which is now in a post office box rather than a traditional mailbox ... and got a much-anticipated notice for the final hearing. Finally. I've spent the past few days dealing with my anger over the perspectives issue ... but have decided - resolved, really - that my life can and will be better. And I am ready for that. The past several days have been ... good. The crying has all but stopped. I feel like a person again. Like I have value to add to society. 

Perspectives

So, yesterday I learned that he and I have completely different views on the cause and circumstances leading to our divorce. I wrote about how unbelievably angry I am about that.

But as I am processing through it, I want to parse through a few things:

For me, our divorce is a single-issue situation: He hurt me ... in ways I choose to not write because they are highly personal to me and potentially damaging to him. And it's not just the acts, but his response to my telling him that I am not okay with them. He blamed me ... told me I would be okay with it if I loved him better, was more open, or was 'not crazy.' So, he takes no responsibility for the physical acts, or the emotional pummeling after the fact.  This broke our marriage beyond any realistic expectation of reconciliation.

But here's the awful part ... After I made it clear this was not a lifestyle I want, he changed the conversation and made this divorce to be a messy, emotion driven episode brought about by my attempting to hold him to some "expectations", while failing to live to his expectations.

It is truly sad that he has abdicated any responsibility for maintaining our relationship, or, ultimately, its end. But, I think it's okay that we have differing views. I wish his view accounted for the violent things he did to me. But, ultimately, it is not my job to hold him to a standard on that.

All I can do is understand myself and then move on.

Mad

It finally happened! I am angry - mad as nails. I am hopping mad ... literally.

I just learned that he is blaming me completely for our marriage ending.

Let me say this: It's one thing for me to nicely say that I have expectations that he wasn't meeting ... Those expectations are minimal: don't cheat on me. don't hurt me. want to be married to me. It is ENTIRELY DIFFERENT for HIM to say it. When he says "she has expectations" it implies to the listener that I have been, in some way, unfairly burdensome in my requests or requirements of him.

Unbelievable.  UNBELIEVABLE.

Today's song: Before He Cheats, Carrie Underwood
not my situation, but I totally get her sentiment right now.....

History

I“History is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books-books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, 'What is history, but a fable agreed upon?” - Dan Brown, The DaVinci Code

He's changing the story. A lot. To make himself the winner? I don't know.

We have long time friends that he brought to the relationship ... who he needs to talk to about this. And he finally has ... just this week. Maybe just today. After the awful of the past two years ... After the heart-wrenching events of last summer ... After we've filed for divorce. Why has he not been talking to his friends???????

I had dinner with one of them tonight. She is confused and disheartened. Join the club, sister. I don't feel comfortable telling her about the real reason for the divorce ... because she is his friend. And I promised him I wouldn't strip him of his friends. So I gave some generic "changes and differences" answer and then just willed the conversation to move on. And it did. But she knew I was lying ... And I've lost her trust because of it.

Sick

oh this is not good. I'm sick. My head is all stuffy and my throat is gunky. uuunnnnngggghhhhhhhh. why me?

Saturday

And then, hidden in the rubble, one shiny day is simply splendid.

Adulting

I can't adult today. Please don't make me adult.

This is today. I am tired. Honestly. I don't want to do anything. I am at work, but, as usual, not really. I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. No visible reason why ... just ... done. I've had a full week of work things and the emotional roller coaster that is my existence. I haven't been able to eat much. I am tired of crying, but it happens all the time. I just want to crawl into a hole alone. Which is weird. I don't like holes and I don't like being alone. Generally. hummm.

Feelings

This 'feeling things' is for the birds. I am up, down, here, there. Happy, sad, scared, excited ... and that's just in the past five minutes.

Seriously, though, my coworkers don't know which me is coming to work from one day to the next. Part of me thinks they should give a little credit for the fact that I COME TO WORK EVERYDAY.

Then there's the anguished crying. Which I really can't handle. Random moments, no warning signs ... just bursting into uncontrollable, wracking sobs. This happened on the highway ... Doing 70. In an instant I couldn't see and had to pull over ... It went fine, and eventually I stopped crying ... but it's not okay. This is not okay. I am NOT okay.

Jump!

I jumped out of an airplane today ... on purpose. It was perspective altering and life giving. I didn't know I would be jumping until I got to the hangar. I am so glad I did it. I feel ... something. I have felt ... nothing ... for so long. When I looked out the door of the airplane, then hurled myself into the air with literally nothing between me and the ground, I FELT. And they were good feelings: excitement, happiness, freedom. It is as though I needed a hard reset on my emotional, physical, and mental well being ... and that was it. I feel ... something.

Shrink

I have lost 15 pounds in 4 weeks. I don't feel like eating. When I do eat I usually throw up. I've figured out I can safely eat scrambled eggs, hummus and carrot sticks, and mostly any other vegetables, so long as they are raw or cooked in water, not oil. I can't eat dairy. I don't like any starches. I've sworn off caffeine, sugar, and alcohol so that I stop relying on them for placebo. So I eat soft foods ... and not much of them. And I walk. So I shrink.

Care

I've started going to a recovery group for newly or soon-to-be divorced people. It meets once a week, on Mondays. I don't want to go. I rail against it. But I think it might help ... just being with other people who are in similar places. But none of them is like me. Most of them were left by their spouse. And I guess, in a manner of speaking, I was left emotionally ... but then I left physically. I cry every meeting. every single one. Because it hurts. Because I am embarrassed. Because I don't know how else to say I am just so, so sad.

Really

Most people label themselves as a certain brand of religion or non-religion. I'm not so into labels. I haven't needed to align myself or my thinking to any one religion in years. Give me personal responsibility, self knowledge, and true relationships. I want to think and talk with other people who think and talk. I want life, love, and laughter. I'm more intrigued by the idea of a life philosophy than a religion, but if this is a religion, great. If not, that's fine too.

But I have tolerated a good amount of religion for the sake of surviving in a culture permeated by an over-abundance of 'good Christian people'. I am not one of these people. I have never been. I sympathize, but I am not cut from this cloth.

And I've had enough. Really enough. Of trying to mangle myself into a mold to look like the kind of person that I find not only miserably backward, but dangerously devoid of morality.

I am surrounded by people who believe in a God who they can blame for their shortfalls, who will fill their emotional needs, and who they call out to for help. Instead of being accountable for their actions, feeling about the world they live in, or taking care of themselves.

I am acknowledging that a fair amount of my pain isn't because of the divorce. Rather, it's related to the third-party expectations placed on me by the religious group with which we were associated. Well, no more. I don't need or want it.

I will no longer associate with these people. Who abdicate real life under an umbrella of 'believing in a big God'. Who trade human experience for 'hope in the eternal'. Who cry out endlessly to a God who likely isn't there or who certainly isn't listening.  I can respect the need, real or felt, to have a super-imposed structure or system ... but that is not how I operate. Not at all.

Today's song: Take me to Church by Hozier

Walk

Walking. This is what I do now. I go to work, but I'm not really 'there.' I walk. Every day. 3 miles. 6 miles. 10 miles. I walk because I need to DO SOMETHING. And because I need to relearn how to move. My body hurts. Still. From last summer's injuries, and the stress. And it's better than crying. So I walk. Miles upon miles. Just walking. And thinking.

Lovable

Just because he was unloving does not mean I am unlovable.

Today's song: Perfect by Pink

Shock

I don't remember yesterday. Not the way I should be able to. I don't remember going places or doing things. I remember moments.

Courthouse security.

Signing a paper.

Wandering a hallway at work.

A phone call.

Staring at the wall wrapped in a blanket.

Schnitzel.

Minions.

Football.

Talking.

Move

I did it. Today I moved out of my house and into a bedroom. The possessions I brought with me are in the garage. I am living out of boxes. One day at a time.

Pause

Pack a box. Pause to cry. Pack a box. Pause to cry. Pack a box. Pause.

I might lose my mind. Or maybe I already lost it.

Help

Well I finally had to call someone. She's going to help me pack. Which is good because I am a mess. So she'll know what's up. Sort of. I really don't want to talk about it.

Stuff

How does this happen? How do two people who promised to love, honor, and cherish spend an evening walking through an emotionally dead house deciding who gets what furniture? I want to scream.

I don't care about the furniture.

I don't care who gets which car.

I want my husband back.

The one I married when neither of us had anything.

The one who used to tell me we could do anything so long as we did it together.

The one who wanted to know me. The real me.

But I sort of feel like that man died. And then so did I.

He wants the house. Good. I don't want to live here. We agreed that I would move out this weekend. And that we would file on Monday. And he wants all of our accounting separated out by Wednesday. So not only does he not want me anymore, he wants me gone as fast as possible. What did I ever do to him?

Post Hoc

We went to see 'his' counselor. What's that guy supposed to say? Seriously ... they had three sessions together, after which apparently we were supposed to have some conversations that never happened. I guess he was supposed to try to win back my heart. And the counselor wanted to know if we are too late for that ... um, yes. The time for that might have been six months ago.

Friends?

I feel like I don't have any friends. Not real ones who know me. I mean really know me. It's my fault ... I haven't been knowable. I haven't known what to say. And I've been told not to talk about it. How am I supposed to even start to talk about this? What am I supposed to tell anyone? On New Years Eve people are coming for board games. What am I supposed to tell them? Will he be here?

Gone

He's gone. He left. He was telling me about the kind of life he wants and how he can't have it with me ... to which I responded by crying, of course. And then I went to take a nap ... and when I woke up he was leaving. Bags packed. Going to his mother's house. What did I do so wrong? I've tried!! I've tried to remember about the mini blinds and the and the dishes. I went to counseling. I have done the things! Where did I go wrong? Why is he going away? oh my god. it's really over.

Christmas

It's Christmas Eve. I don't even know what that means anymore.

He's been telling me for days how miserable he is ... drawing charts and graphs with arrows pointing at various parts of his life that are broken. And I'm the nebulous around which all of this misery swirls.

I feel like shit. I have cried nearly constantly for days. I don't know how many. More than a week. I haven't slept. I am exhausted.

I called my counselor today. On Christmas Eve. She told me what she's been telling me: It's over.

I know. I know it's over. I just can't handle the heart ache. I might break.

Trying

Philadelphia. The city of brotherly love. We went there to find some relaxation and work on our marriage. At least, that's why I went.

He spent most of the time on the phone, saving the world. HELLO!! You're supposed to want to save THIS. Our marriage. Remember? No? oh. okay.

Other than the basically horrible state of our marriage, the trip was good. We ate great food. I caught up with a favorite law professor. We saw fun things. I got to snuggle a baby. Cling to the happy memories. You're gonna need them, kid.

Things

I wish he would say something. Anything. That would make me think that maybe he wants for us to work. But he doesn't. He stopped seeing his counselor ... after three sessions. Really? Really. He decided he didn't need to go anymore. Hmmmmm. He doesn't talk to me anymore ... about anything really. We text about what's for dinner. Sometimes. I get that he's busy - and I'm busy. We are busy people. But somewhere in there has to be the stuff of the relationship. Right?

But! There is hope. We are going to Philadelphia soon. Supposed to be a good trip. I hope it is.

Today's song: Say Something by A Great Big World

Days

I lived in my apartment for 10 days. Then I broke the lease and now I am back home ... where I belong ...? He has promised to change. He went to see a counselor. He said he'll talk to his doctor. He's started talking about his issues.

But he says he wants things from me, too. A list of things. And they're weird, household things, like mini blinds and laundry. I can't compare 'remember to open and close the mini blinds' to 'remember to not hurt your wife.' It feels off. All I want from him is to not hurt me. Other than that, we can work it out. So this can maybe work. I can try. If I try then maybe he'll want it to work too.

Space

I can't keep living in someone's guest bedroom. Not that I need more space. I just need different space. He says he's not changing, that he wishes I could understand he can't change. I do understand that. I hate it. I also can't live with it ... and therefore can't live with him. So ... I guess I need to live somewhere else (?) An apartment. Sure. Okay. I guess I'll spend the weekend figuring that out.

Changing

Some people are open to change. I'm one of them.
Some people are closed to change. He is one of those.
But he did change .. in a bad way.
I've asked him to be willing to change for the good. He's not.
I think I need to start changing.

Talking

I haven't talked about this ... any of it. Ever. To anyone. What can I say? Who can I trust? I don't know. And I don't know. I know I can't trust him. He scares me. I think I can trust the friend I am staying with. And my parents. I have to tell them. What the hell do I tell them??? "Hi mom, nothing new to share except I moved out of my house. Why didn't I tell you there were problems? Because I thought I could handle it. And I can't. Gotta run. Give brother a hug." That's gonna be great. I have to tell someone at work something. They've already noticed something has gone horribly wrong. How perceptive.

Here

I texted her in a panic because I needed a place to go. I couldn't stay in that house anymore. She didn't even ask why - she just said come. And I did. Here I am at her house. It's super cute; she's remodeling. I've taken over one of her bedrooms and a bath for the near term. She keeps telling me to eat. I'm not hungry.

Not again

I told him the last time ... and the time before ... that if it happened again I would leave.

And now here we were, at 3 a.m. Again.

And he's crying. I don't get it. I have begged him to get help. Tried to tell him I can't live with this. Why will he not get help, and then cry when this happens?

I hate him. I want to love him. I want to be able to love him. But I hate him. And I have to get out.
How do I get out?