I’m so beyond thankful that I have good days and bad moments. I am so beyond thankful that I have good days and bad moments. So beyond.
But now those moments show up and sucker-punch me in the gut. And it’s usually at the most inopportune times. I’m just moving along with my life and somebody will say something, or I’ll have a memory, or smell the scent of something that reminds me… and BAM. I feel like I cannot breathe. I am starting to wonder if denial isn’t exceptionally stronger than I’ve been giving it credit for. On my bad days – the days with multiple sucker-punch moments – I think that maybe he’s just on vacation. Maybe this isn’t really my life or my new reality. Maybe I’m having a bad dream, or we’re just in a really bad fight.
And then, as moments do, it passes. I’m back to the land of the breathing-normally again. It takes a little longer to get my head back in the right place, but I can do it. I’m so thankful for the people in my life who stand with me in those moments and the moments that follow. I have been the recipient of some incredible compassion and validation. I’m not sure I’d be in the head-space I am now, if it had not been for these people. In fact, I know I would not be.
So now I’m still in this “in-between” time. Trying to find the correct balance between quiet and solitude and study and prayer and journaling and nature walks and re-discovering my love for connecting with people in social situations. The fine line between crazy-cat-lady and says-yes-to-anything. I am appreciating all aspects of this healing time – the quiet moments spent at home and the moments spent dancing to good music with friends and strangers. I think both are good for the soul, I’m just wondering about the balance between the two. I don’t stress about it too much, but it’s something I think about. I also spend entirely too much time thinking about how others might be perceiving my healing time. I need to let that go. There is so much that others don’t see, and the reasons they don’t see it is because it’s personal. It’s meant for just me. I know I need to let this fear go, and it’s something I’m working on – both in the quiet moments and in the loud ones.
I also need to let go of this idea that if I could just “speak my mind” to him, that I would feel better. It’s SO TEMPTING and it’s something I think about often. I imagine what it would be like to finally put-him-in-his-place, what I would say, how I would say it, and on and on. I can almost taste the satisfaction from being able to finally scream all the things I think I want to say. And yet, I know that as soon as I said those things and I was savoring that initial moment of satisfaction, it would start to turn sour. Having any version of that conversation with him would not accomplish anything. It wouldn’t change a thing. He’s not going to suddenly agree with me and own up to being a shit. He’s not going to admit to the things I already know that happened. He’s not going to suddenly respect me more, or discover that he made a horrible mistake. The ONLY thing that will happen is that I will have a momentary feeling of satisfaction, followed by months of increased strain and the knowledge that I let him drag me down to his level. Acting with integrity – toward the person who LEAST deserves it – in what’s left of our “relationship” has got to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, hands down. It’s a constant struggle, and one that I’m not entirely convinced I will win yet. I’m asking for a lot of help, all of the time. Acknowledging that I feel this way helps a bit. I don’t know. Rational thought comes and it goes, often being replaced with blind rage. I’ll get back to you on this.
In the meantime, you can find me straddling the line between hermit/recluse/crazy cat lady and social butterfly extraordinaire. It’s a crazy mess sometimes, but at least I feel alive.