Saturday, July 2, 2011

d word

John Mayer said this: "I can tell you this much, I will marry just once." ("Home Life" from his Heavier Things album.) Oh John....I thought the same thing. Forever is forever. A covenant is a covenant. Til death means....well, death.

Here's the thing. Sometimes people change their minds. Sometimes, it doesn't matter how much you want to be married or how much you want things to work or how much time and energy you put into someone, they still have the ability to choose. They can decide to walk away. And that, in a nutshell is what happened to me circa January 18th. More solidly February 11th,  semi-permanently March 18th, and legally April 7th.

I've compiled a list of words that start with "d" that I have felt or are associated with my situation over the last 6 months.

Derailed
Devastated
Disappointed

Decision

Deeply hurt
Dishonest
Dikes
Development
Disaster
Dumped
Duped
Dumb
Discombobulated
Dis-chord
Douchebag
Diamond
Dick
Deserted
Devotion
Dagger
Dollars
Dents
Drowning
Desk job
Doing
Deceived
Desire
Denial
Defining
Damnit (*Sorry Mom.)
Dawn

Don't 

Dig Deep
Dancing
Disconnected
Dictatorship
Distance
Disfunction
Divorce

Yep. Divorce. That's the d word. It is such an ugly word. It carries a lot of baggage. I don't like saying it. I don't like saying "ex" before the word husband. I don't like the year 2011. I'm sure I won't feel that way forever....but I do right now and in the practice of honesty, I'm not going to sugar-coat this.

In the beginning of all of the chaos that has been 2011, I felt like that guy that Tom Hanks was playing in Cast Away. I felt like a plane crashed right into my life, over an ocean, and I was the only survivor. And of course that ocean was in the midst of both a tsunami and a hurricane. I felt like the first time I tried the Wave Pool at White Water and went too deep. I was just getting kicked in the rear by waves from all sides. I was gasping for air.

My chest physically hurt until somewhere in the middle of March. It felt like my heart had literally broken into 12847193723847102834 pieces and yet were all still loosely held together by really worn out threads. And somehow, my heart was still able to beat. But it was like 4 different sections all had different beats. I felt like I could hear all the clanging and banging and chaotic tumbling the pieces were doing in there. All the while, feeling the literal pain of it trying to simultaneously function and keep me alive.  It was brutal. I’ve never felt anything like it before. My _____ was shattered. I’ve inserted different things into that blank over the months.

Brain. Heart. Soul. Body. Self-Worth. Confidence. Marriage. Identity.

I’m happy to report, now, standing on the other side of the year,  July 1, 2011, I have hope. I still have my days...but they are fewer and farther between. The waves have calmed down. They’re still there, but I found a piece of the wreckage and I have clung to it. Recently, I found a life vest. That has allowed me to have times of rest while I’m treading water. Down the road, there will be a boat. And I’ll climb inside. And I’ll find my way to an island. And I’ll open my mysterious Cast Away packages that contain hope. And I’ll put them to use. And eventually....somewhere in the future....I will build a raft and I will conquer the ocean. And I’ll get scooped up my a big ‘ole fishing vessel that will bring me to shore. Back home. Back where my heart is whole and healed. And hopefully, that shore will have a person standing on the shore waiting to share life with me. Forever. Till death.  And they will wake up every morning and choose me. And if that happens, I’ll have a big party and you’re all invited.

Now, I hope that takes care of the questions and if it doesn’t....just keep it to yourself. I’m ready to move forward.