April 8th, 2012

Easter Sunday.

It is almost a year to the day that “J” and I broke up. I can remember sitting on my patio last Easter and realizing the promise that my life still held. Despite the devastation I felt from that break up I looked out into my yard, across the horizon at the lush green trees, felt the breeze at dusk, and I knew things would be ok.

I’ve been to hell and back this past 2 years; the first one being an emotionally numbing blur, only finding strength in my late night walks at the track and budding friendships; the second year being one grueling, heartbreaking test after another it seemed. But somehow I made it through to the other side. Well not somehow, with God, with friends, with therapy, with hope. And the journey to the “other side”-- life after an 11yr emotionally abusive, painful marriage-- can be scary but exciting all at once. And now, here I sit a year later, and I feel the same promise that I felt a year ago. …. I just looked out into the same horizon, from the same spot on my porch, and things are ok. I whisper thanks to God for bringing me to this place.

The Aftermath

I see everyone around me and I smile, and nod, and speak when spoken to.  I can do my job with my eyes closed.  I sit at this desk, and I stare at my computer.  I see the news and hear of natural disasters, I hear about other’s tragedies, and somewhere in the back of my mind I think “see? My life could be much worse”.  And then I silently thank God for my blessings, especially the well being of my children.  The clock rolls around to 5:00, I make the drive home, saying silent prayers to keep me strong, and help me move on from what I thought was total happiness.  I get my children; I somehow manage to busy myself with house cleaning while they play.  Then we go through the evening routine of dinner, showers, teeth brushing, and bedtime.  By 8:00 I’m longing for my bed, the comfort of my dark cool room, under the covers, just me.  I cry into my pillow, I vow not to listen to country music too much right now, as used to be part of my bedtime routine, I say prayers, and wait for my sleep aid or anti anxiety medication to kick in.  I feel the drowsiness and calmness overtake me, and I have no worries, my mind is free and clear for those few moments, and my heart doesn’t hurt for those few moments of the day.  I wake up in the morning and start it all over.  I get up.  I breathe.  I walk. I do what I’m supposed to do.  With a dull ache in my heart and a gnawing in the pit of my stomach….knowing that love and happiness slipped out of my life not once, but twice.

'Happily Ever After' will NEVER happen

Things have been wonderful for the past few months. Almost like a fairytale in some ways, I know that sounds cheesy, but they were. I should have reminded myself more often that fairytales don't exist in real life.  Then maybe this pain wouldn't cut so deep.  I don't even know what else to say.  Sometimes there are absolutely no words to describe emotional pain.

CONTROL

You wanted it. Here ya go. You can have it. I wrapped it up for you in a nice, shiny package covered in hope, despair, confusion, and anger....the tag on the package says "Fuck you for all the bullshit you threw my way".  Gee, you must of been really scared when I took it from you!  Cause I'm guessing the silence means you want it back now??  It must.  You sure work damn hard to get it from me.  Funny how someone would work so hard to get something they have very little appreciation for.  So here it is in a package just for you... disguised as a vulnerable friendly message.  I hope that when you open it up it makes you feel foolishly warm & fuzzy inside; secure in your manhood again. I hope it makes you swell with pride at what a fucking asshole you are.