Some days

Some days I just want to cry

and some days, I just do

Some days I roll all the windows down in the car and sing loudly to the music playing on the radio

and some days, I hide behind my sunglasses and retreat into my head

Some days I run with strength and energy and confidence

and some days, I feel like my legs are made of stone

Some days I feel so clear, so ready for the future

and some days, I am so scared and confused

Some days I look out the window and smile

and some days, I wipe the tears feeling overwhelmed

Some days I feel so accomplished at work

and some days, I feel like my brain is useless

Some days I hold my breath waiting for something good

and some days, I hold my breath fearing something bad

Some days I can’t help but feel happy

and some days, I am filled with anger

Some days I long for what was

and some days, I long for what will be

Some days, I am reminded of all that is positive

and some days, I am faced with only negative

It will all balance, it will all be right, it will all be okay

Someday

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Is There Light?

Every so often I get a glimpse of true hope. And I feel calm and optimistic. Evoking a state of “it’s all going to be okay” I settle into a place of happiness. I compare it to crossing the finish line of a hard earned race. A smile. A knowingness. Walking down the halls of work, there is a bounce quite literally in my step. I feel empowered. I feel strong. I feel balanced. I feel hopeful and excited. But here’s the catch…it fades. The light dimmers. The hope escapes me as if it had just been mocking me the whole time. I am lethargic. I feel heavy, weighted. I lack motivation. I can’t focus. I cry. And I cry. It’s like a dark circle encompasses me, holding tight. I start to question. And second guess. And feel guilt. And pain. Where is the light? The shimmer of hope?

I now know the dance well. I know the darkness doesn’t last. But it still hurts. And I still grieve. And just knowing the light exists does provide hope. But I admit, the dance is tiring. Draining. And I often wonder if it will ever be truly okay. Will I ever feel truly okay?

Sometimes, much of the time, I push forward. But in doing that, I’m avoiding. I think. It’s like a force of movement that provides momentum without thought. Holding such strong emotions means such strong emotions are holding me. I do find strength, however, in the realization that I am stronger and healthier. So I guess this dance will continue. Until the song fades away.

To Be…Not

Sometimes when you are in pain, in that moment, in that timeframe, you think it could not hurt anymore. But I discovered that is so wrong. Like being kicked when you are down. This is what I have felt for the past week. It has been a wave of constant hurt continuously smacking me against the rocky, sharp, unforgiving wall. I am left in-between this blockade and the thrashing, intensity of the waves…waiting for it all to stop.

Feelings of being overwhelmed followed by shock and sadness.

Strength found to be challenged again but with great force.

Some panic, some weakness, some all out craziness.

Again pure shock.

And then deep sadness and hurt and disbelief.

And I sat in this. All of it.

So twisted and surreal almost.

How ironic.

I lose myself from time to time. I get lost in the complexity and many paths. This past week, I lost all harmony.  Any sense of balance and peace was gone.

Maybe all these twists and turns is how I actually will find myself…….

 

Regret Versus Guilt

So by now you must know I carry a lot of guilt. Waxes and wanes, but always peaking its head around the corner daring to be seen, guilt is ever present. At times I am able to assuage this annoying and often incredibly persistent emotion. While other times, I succumb to the drowning effects.

Certainly regret and guilt are not mutually exclusive. They seemingly both stir up negativity in many ways. But for me, in my case of divorce, one does not mean the other. To clarify – because I carry this guilt does not equate to regret. Admittedly, the weight is slowly lifting. And yet, I truly don’t think will ever completely disappear. The definition of being a parent surely includes feeling guilt. Somewhere in there it must state “be prepared to go to bed many a night feeling guilty.” But, I did not choose divorce in that I ultimately had no choice. Despite the many good “things,” some of the best were not shining through or even present. For example, I want my boys to witness love at it’s core; to experience first hand what respect looks and feels like between two people who have promised their life together; to sense compassion; to taste the sweet, sweet taste of undying selflessness; to witness patience and self-control; to appreciate the ups and downs are to be travelled together.

Yes, there is a possibility that I will never be able to personally exemplify all of this for them. But, they are no longer living in a place where the opposite exists and teaches them all that should never be taught.

Guilt? Yes. Regret? No.

This morning I read a beautiful post. It was the reminder I needed. My boys are strong. And I think that maybe, just maybe, I am too.

‘Honey, that challenge was made for you. It might hurt, but it will also nurture wisdom, courage, and character. I can see what you’re going through, and it’s big. But I can also see your strength, and that’s even bigger. This won’t be easy, but we can do hard things.’                        -Glennon Doyle Melton

 

Faith

This is long overdue. An examination of my marathon. Writing, with my left hand, about each mile. What I was feeling, thinking, seeing. I did it. And now I am having a hard time with the “results.” At the advice of my yoga teacher, I named the race. Faith. Each mile I needed to somehow relate to faith. Mentally working through each mile may just give me my life lesson she had said.

And this is where I am struggling. It was mile 16 I saw my my sister-in-law, nieces, T, my dad, and my mom. My interaction was mostly with my mom however. T and my dad where standing back and up on some stairs. I wasn’t feeling very strong at this point or at least not as strong as I had in training. And from here it went downhill. After I saw my family, it went downhill. And honestly, I think it was more after I saw my mom specifically. Ugh. I became weaker. More in my head. Weak. Beaten. Defeated. Up until seeing my mom she had been sending me supportive texts. When I saw her, she was proud. She yelled out as I ran off “How are you feeling?” and T just happened to snap a picture the moment I turned to respond. The look on my face says it all.

So why after this point, the point where I should have felt an extra boost, did I lose energy?  I can still feel what it felt like now – the lack of energy. It was a gross feeling. It was so hard to keep moving. And truly I didn’t know if I could. I became my weak, old, self full of anxiety and panic. And that turns into a downward spiral. My brother was running also. He had been a few miles behind me. I called him to say I didn’t think I could do it. He told me to keep going, he’d catch up with me. I kept looking back, looking for him. He never caught up. But, the fact that he tried so hard still warms my heart. He was there for me.

I crossed the finish line that day. Not even close to the time I had trained for and expected. It wasn’t until hours later, I could reflect back on the race and notice the many gifts.

So faith. Faith in myself. In my strength. In my abilities. Trust in who I am. And probably most importantly, feeling confident in doing what I know is right…for me. Not doubting. Yes, faith.

Who is the Expert Anyway?

Is there such a thing as an expert when it comes to divorce?

When we too often follow the opinions of others and what mainstream is doing, we lose our “expertise.” Taking bits and pieces from here and there can help, but overriding our instincts, that deep-in-the-belly feeling of what is right and what is wrong, can lead us astray.

No one has walked in my shoes, lived my life, experienced my experiences. And so how can  anyone be an expert on my life? Although in a state of weakness, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone expertly know what you should do – and all you have to do is do it, to make everything ok? Seems easier. Less work. There would be less feeling. Actually, I am not sure there would be any feeling at all.

Let me confess. There have been moments during my lengthy separation and ultimate divorce I was led versus leading. And I have fought and continue to do so against society’s norm as it relates to divorce. Realizing I stretch the limits, I can’t help but stay true to what I so strongly believe. Telling myself “If I were to die tomorrow, would I regret doing this or not doing this?”

At the heart of my choices are my boys. But my ex-husband (I can’t stand that word! Isn’t there an alternative??) can be quite flimsy in his views. And…he has had a girlfriend for several  years now. The boys have not been introduced to her nor have I. And in fact, the boys are not aware he has a girlfriend. Honestly, for now, I like it that way. Even though I am acutely aware I am playing into a state of ignorance.

Somehow in other’s minds though, she has become a priority on a level. Family holidays, car pooling to games, day trips, all must be considered with his girlfriend’s feelings. Wrapping my brain around this is beyond difficult. So I must consider her insecurities ahead of what would be best for my boys? Please understand I do not want this woman to hurt or feel hurt. And ultimately it would be ideal if she were included in large family gatherings at some point. But we are in the now. Today. My boys are only this vulnerable age once. And this is the time we emulate strength as a family or forgo that because the “norm” says it’s not okay.

So really tell me, who is the expert in this case anyway?

 

Hmmm….Dramatic?

Is Divorce dramaticOr does that description lend itself too much to a theater production? Maybe it’s that the act of divorce is not dramatic so much so as the consequences.

Divorce is breaking apart. But quite possibly it can also be pulling together. Ironic right? In the end, it’s all significant, life altering, and yes dramatic. Truthfully it has rocked my world. My gait unsteady. My mind a tornado of mismatched thoughts. My heart pulled in many directions yet all the while growing bigger and stronger as a result.

Synonyms for dramatic include – significant, considerable, substantial.

Significant? A path reworked. A family redefined. A heart aching for its loss.

Considerable? A life quite literally scheduled differently. A risk leading to vulnerability.

Substantial? Loss. Gain. Strength. Clarity.

So, yes, dramatic. In all its waves of change, divorce has left a lifelong imprint. And while the drama of it all can often implicate a negative aftermath, it continues to be a priority to find the balance. To provide the lesson. To foster growth, truth, and perseverance. To take something so crushing and manipulate it in a way that results in something positive. Something good.

There is no other option – I am a mother.