he left me.
in the wee hours of the morning as the sun came up on a beautiful summer day.
I don’t love you anymore.
why? why why why why?
how could you do this-to me-to our children-how?
but mostly, if I’m honest with myself, I was relieved.
he had the courage to do what i should have done long ago. Before living for him became everything. before life became about everyone else.
he left me. and I hate it. I hate the silence in the evenings. I hate the anger I hold on to. the bitterness I fight to release. I hate how he smiles all the time now. I hate that his happiness isnt something I gave him.
I hate that at my weakest he cared for me and then ran.
I hate that he is a good father because then I could just be rid of him.
I hate that I was in love with our memories. I hate that we became people who could only love memories.
I am not broken. I’m like that scar you have. the thick skin where delicate layers used to be. the rough tissue underneath-the protection against another wound.
I am that. I am not strong. I am protected. I will not be hurt again. I don’t have the energy to pick myself up after one more debilitating blow.
I live for my babies. I live for myself.
I’m both happy and sad and still trying to figure out how this could be.
he left me. I didn’t die.
today my weakness overcame me. today there was that ever fleeting moment, a nanosecond, or half of a nanosecond, that thought of “oh if I just drove into this tree, I’d hope I wouldn’t die, but at least I’d get a break”.
today I cried. I yelled. I RAN. 5 kilometers. had a full on panic attack, well two actually.
dear Self, tomorrow-aim higher than the automobile crash shall we?
oh my I haven’t been here in awhile. mostly because things have not been going so well here and I didn’t want to be the one who bitches and moans. that’s not me. I hope I’m not.
once we got over that last health issue of migraines and infections I felt that maybe I was losing a big of progress in working on ‘me’ and that maybe I needed more talk therapy, maybe more medicine, but then I challenged myself to find coping strategies and ways to manage and process my issues, as well as communicate to my support people. I’m proud of that.
then it was calm.
for a while.
I started having pain, gallactorhea, discomfort and the scary lumps in my breasts. I’ve had blood tests and ultrasounds and visits to rule out the scary stuff and results day is two days away.
it never bloody ends!!!!
I’m back to work and its a really nice distraction. I don’t want to dwell on stuff that isn’t even going to happen.
thank god golf season is back. I needed that.
I had the worst dream last night. even as I woke screaming or sweating, I would fall back into this nightmare. it would continue-even with reassurances from my husband, a light on in the hall, it came back.
they did unmentionable things to my baby. over and over in my mind. these faceless monsters took my most precious thing and hurt her. but don’t worry-we got them. in a very ‘walking dead’ sort of way.
tonight my usual 10pm nod off eludes me. my sweet sister is awake too. we have both been having nightmares.
I didn’t realize until now that it all connected.
the anniversary is coming. Sunday will be seven years since mom died. she is still such an influential part of all of us, and it must be why we are troubled.
I’m three beer in to an attempt at purging some wardrobe items. I can’t seem to part with much. my inability to make a decision is annoying. I should just sleep. I want to sleep. I want my sister to sleep.
I want my mother to come. in a dream, or a feeling, something. so she can tell me ill be ok. sometimes I just need her reassurance that ill be ok.
sleep will come. eventually.
Do you believe in God? are you religious? faithful? spiritual? atheist or agnostic?
Do you rest your head at night, comforted by the belief that all will be well, surrendering your life to a higher power? do you stay awake at night-searching for answers? Perhaps it doesn’t even cross your mind.
I struggle sometimes with what I believe. there is comfort in knowing the easy answers are there for my kids when something comes up. the good part of being raised catholic is the same good thing that comes with any culture or belief system: the answers are easy. easy is comfortable. The unknown is not comfortable. and it is certainly not easy.
the lazy part of me wants to fall into old habits despite my personal objections to some major religious policies. I do take this seriously though. I can’t stand in a church and proclaim with others that I believe, when I really don’t agree.
so maybe I need to find a new faith. try as I might, I don’t think we die and become compost and that’s it’s. I believe, however idealistically, that there is SOMETHING after this-though I don’t know what it is.
my boy asks questions. I want to give him answers. I want to. but I don’t know what I need to believe. and I can’t spend much more time deciding what to do.
will my friends support this? how could I get my husband on board? what steps do you take to start?
part of me feels that I wouldn’t battle myself as much, if I had more answers. or more faith. If God was here, maybe he could fight my demons. I sure could use a break.
it’s been a couple of weeks and I am rusty. hence the corny title. proof again that I am no writer.
it’s been so peaceful. post birthday events included husband going away again, and for the entire two weeks he was gone the kids were sick. I’m talking back to back gastro and respiratory viruses, doctors visits, missed school, and a trip to the ER because dear daughter thought she could fly and cut her head open. the terrible threes may just kill me…
My mental is wavering somewhat. I find myself with less patience, less understanding, I’m yelling again and maybe not having the compassion I should. most of this is directed at my family, but I DO find I can’t quite deal with other people’s selfishness or self centered attitudes as much as I usually can. ordinarily I adopt the to-each-his-own mantra because no one is really hurting me. but I just want to shake people sometimes. maybe it’s time to up the dose again. this rage that simmers underneath, that I keep in check, it worries me that at any moment I won’t be able to control it.
I also get frustrated that I can’t manage this will thought processes and awareness and effort. why can’t I just Stop wanting to smack people? literally-I physically want to just smack them. it’s unnerving.
so we shall see I guess!! perhaps this will pass, and hopefully I won’t cause any damage-I hate the yelling.
I love my little audience. I could even handle a large audience, if I could ensure some degree of anonymity. I have not been as open with my close knit community. it was never something I hid, but the dialog wasnt there.
I told them today.
what better platform than my own every day life to show the people I love that I am a fighter?
Bell had its official Lets Talk Campaign today. so I told the world my truth.
and so did many others. friends came out of the woodwork to stand with me to help even more.
I have never ever been more proud of the people I choose to surround myself with. I am humbled, honored, and loving all of them that much more.
I also don’t condemn anyone who isn’t ready. it took me considerable longer than I was ever aware of to admit I was not ok. we are talking years, maybe even more than a decade. if someone isn’t there yet, that’s ok.
maybe, just maybe, we helped get someone closer to getting the help they deserve.