This Road was meant for Walking, but the Bumps can be Killers if You Don't Watch Out
I am incredibly disappointed in myself for not writing a letter in this blog since June of last year. Admittedly, I was on some kind of metaphysical high from all of the changes that had gone on in my life, and I was absolutely delirious with the possibilities that awaited me after a marriage-ending, a retreat back to my childhood home and a realization about the fact that I was genuinely starting over. From June through the present, I've gotten a little less dreamy about what is going on in my life, and a little more understanding about the fact that people can, in fact, be infatuated with the idea of reinventing themselves in every conceivable way. That "Eat, Pray, Love" woman forgot to mention that you still need to make your car payment, hand wash your bras and figure out how to get through the holidays without drinking and eating yourself into oblivion.
The truth is is that I am still reeling from the way that my marriage ended. I am at fault for not handling this sooner, and the complete denial of having to clean up the emotional and physical remnants of that life has come to roost. Now I am left with a lot of residual anger about the things that happened. It is true that my ex-husband actively spoke with other women on the internet while we were still married and approached me about an open marriage after the gun had been fired. It is true that during this time I was actively dealing with extreme suicidal depression and anxiety that hospitalized me. I was medicated and actively going to therapy at least weekly. It is true that I did not want to have an open marriage, but I felt that it was the only way to save what was left of the life that I had known for over eight years. It is true that I tried this lifestyle and left the marriage after I knew that what had happened could never be forgiven on my part and that I could never trust or feel good about the person that I was married to. These are the big facts from my perspective. It gets a little hard to decipher fact from emotion beyond this point, though. There are a lot of details, actions and decisions that shade my level of anger today, and each day is a new opportunity not to ruin the gift of this day because of things that happened in the past.
I have done my best to remain a lady in this instance and try to take the high road when it comes to mutual friends, etc. I haven't publicly antagonized anyone, but I haven't lied about anything either. When people ask me what happened in a private space, I tell them from my own perspective how things happened in excruciating detail. The therapy in this is unloading the shame by public display, and being unabashedly honest about what happened to me, and how I could've handled it differently or better...or whatever.
In therapy we actively speak about "emotional sobriety," and almost three years after I actively sought help and started my journey to better mental health, I am still working on this. The last six months are a testament to the idea that you can actually pump yourself up to a fault with positivism, so that when you come back to Earth with the realization that you haven't REALLY dealt with anything...it's a much harder fall. Much like those that deal with substance abuse, I am learning that while sobriety is something to be proud of, it's by no means the end of the journey of a complete life change. This bump tripped me, but it hasn't deterred my journey. It's a good lesson. I don't have the keys to life figured out.
I have also been living with my parents for almost a year now. It is common in almost every other country in the world to live with your family. It is also getting more common in this country, as more young people cannot afford to live alone, pay their student loans, have a car payment and eat. Still though, to be at home at this age...having been gone for fourteen years is an extreme ass-kick. I do not have my own kitchen. I do not have my own bathroom. I do not have my own living room. I have my own bedroom and it is where I am relegated to do my living. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely grateful to be able to do this, but regressing to this kind of living isn't easy for anyone that is actively "adulting" in their life in every other way. Discover Student Loans didn't get the memo that I separated from my adulterous husband, moved back home and now live in my childhood bedroom...they still want their money.
When I think about all that has happened and I think about the people that know my full story, I wonder if they think that I feel sorry for myself. I truly don't. This situation totally blows, but I know that I am sincerely blessed (to use a corny word) with health, a good job, supportive people in my life and mostly...a chance to make it better. I think my anger stems from the injustice of it all. From the idea that people do things so hurtful and they get to actively move on and live their lives as if they deserve everything in the world. They get to keep their lifestyle. They get to keep their mental health. They get to keep their self-assurance that somehow the way that things happened is something that they deserve to move on from without serious consequence. I am no stranger to the idea of life not being fair, and I live by the mantra, "Life isn't fair, but it can still be good." I have the self-talks. I live with gratitude, but sometimes in the stillness, I wonder about why I have been positioned to live life this way...whether through "fate" or my own doing.
I sincerely wonder if other people live this way.
The truth is is that I am still reeling from the way that my marriage ended. I am at fault for not handling this sooner, and the complete denial of having to clean up the emotional and physical remnants of that life has come to roost. Now I am left with a lot of residual anger about the things that happened. It is true that my ex-husband actively spoke with other women on the internet while we were still married and approached me about an open marriage after the gun had been fired. It is true that during this time I was actively dealing with extreme suicidal depression and anxiety that hospitalized me. I was medicated and actively going to therapy at least weekly. It is true that I did not want to have an open marriage, but I felt that it was the only way to save what was left of the life that I had known for over eight years. It is true that I tried this lifestyle and left the marriage after I knew that what had happened could never be forgiven on my part and that I could never trust or feel good about the person that I was married to. These are the big facts from my perspective. It gets a little hard to decipher fact from emotion beyond this point, though. There are a lot of details, actions and decisions that shade my level of anger today, and each day is a new opportunity not to ruin the gift of this day because of things that happened in the past.
I have done my best to remain a lady in this instance and try to take the high road when it comes to mutual friends, etc. I haven't publicly antagonized anyone, but I haven't lied about anything either. When people ask me what happened in a private space, I tell them from my own perspective how things happened in excruciating detail. The therapy in this is unloading the shame by public display, and being unabashedly honest about what happened to me, and how I could've handled it differently or better...or whatever.
In therapy we actively speak about "emotional sobriety," and almost three years after I actively sought help and started my journey to better mental health, I am still working on this. The last six months are a testament to the idea that you can actually pump yourself up to a fault with positivism, so that when you come back to Earth with the realization that you haven't REALLY dealt with anything...it's a much harder fall. Much like those that deal with substance abuse, I am learning that while sobriety is something to be proud of, it's by no means the end of the journey of a complete life change. This bump tripped me, but it hasn't deterred my journey. It's a good lesson. I don't have the keys to life figured out.
I have also been living with my parents for almost a year now. It is common in almost every other country in the world to live with your family. It is also getting more common in this country, as more young people cannot afford to live alone, pay their student loans, have a car payment and eat. Still though, to be at home at this age...having been gone for fourteen years is an extreme ass-kick. I do not have my own kitchen. I do not have my own bathroom. I do not have my own living room. I have my own bedroom and it is where I am relegated to do my living. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely grateful to be able to do this, but regressing to this kind of living isn't easy for anyone that is actively "adulting" in their life in every other way. Discover Student Loans didn't get the memo that I separated from my adulterous husband, moved back home and now live in my childhood bedroom...they still want their money.
When I think about all that has happened and I think about the people that know my full story, I wonder if they think that I feel sorry for myself. I truly don't. This situation totally blows, but I know that I am sincerely blessed (to use a corny word) with health, a good job, supportive people in my life and mostly...a chance to make it better. I think my anger stems from the injustice of it all. From the idea that people do things so hurtful and they get to actively move on and live their lives as if they deserve everything in the world. They get to keep their lifestyle. They get to keep their mental health. They get to keep their self-assurance that somehow the way that things happened is something that they deserve to move on from without serious consequence. I am no stranger to the idea of life not being fair, and I live by the mantra, "Life isn't fair, but it can still be good." I have the self-talks. I live with gratitude, but sometimes in the stillness, I wonder about why I have been positioned to live life this way...whether through "fate" or my own doing.I sincerely wonder if other people live this way.
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