An Open Letter To The “Next One”

You may or may not exist yet, but one thing I know for sure, is that the thought of you is already very real. Real in his world, and real in mine.

He will fall in love with you. And he will fall quickly. He has a huge heart and will do whatever he can for you. He will buy you cards, make you lunch, and hold you all night. He will fly into the house after work to kiss you and you will melt in his arms. He will take you out and he will promise you the world.

And you will belong to him.

He is emotional and when he cries, let him. It’s the best way to see his true feelings. He will get upset, but never mad. He will treat you like the princess you are.

But…he may forget.

He may forget how he felt when he wrote those cards. What he felt when he kissed you for the first time.

Remind him.

Then remind him again.

Be a strong woman and insist on what you need out of your relationship.

I didn’t and I gave up.

I want to get one thing straight. I will never hate you, speak ill of you, or dislike you. But I will be jealous of you. Afterall, you are getting the things that I’ve required for the last 8 years.

I look forward to getting to know you, and ask only one thing. Be patient with me. And him. We will be connected forever through the two boys that give us both a reason to keep moving forward. I may call him from one to numerous times a day if it has to do with our children. Please don’t be threatened by me. I will never intrude in your life and if I am told it’s not a good time, unless it’s an emergency, I will oblige.

Love him back. As much as you’re capable. I promise you, you will never regret it.

My final thought: If you are so inclined to hurt me in any way possible, I will forgive you. But if you ever hurt my little boys, prepare for one heck of a family chat. I will never, ever let them get hurt in any way and will keep them safe as long and as much as I can. Love them like your own and it won’t be an issue.

Be Careful, It’s A Trap

Living with depression is such a finicky thing.  Each day is different from the last and will be to the next.  You can’t explain it to people because there are no words.  How do you put into words the feeling of being in a tornado of chaos when everything around you is absolutely and completely fine and in order?

I’ve dealt with it for 20 years now.  It’s a process that doesn’t seem to have an end.  There was a poignant moment in my life when I was 13 and told my mother at 10:00 at night that I would not be going to school the next day.  I remember the night I called the emergency hotline at a local hospital and made an appointment for myself for the next day.  That phone call probably saved me.  The first of many times.

But it is during those dark and completely clouded days that I can find myself.  Sitting in the dark, surrounded by the light of numerous candles and sad music, I find what I seem to lose at other times…my voice.  And the ability to express feelings that otherwise would stay hidden.

I’m not crazy.  I can’t control it.  The maddening thing about depression for me is that my triggers change based on my life circumstances.  The Divorce has triggered feelings and issues I never would have thought would be a problem.  I am suddenly awkward around others.  Being around people who are happy all the time is pure torture.  Being around people who are mad all the time is painful.

I have purposely not dated yet because I don’t want anyone to see this complicated side of me.  I don’t want to meet anyone who won’t be able to hold me while I bawl hysterically for no reason and continue to love me anyway.  In fact, I am not sure I even believe that exists.  Time will tell.

Depression knows no age limits, no race, no income status, or sex.  I am grateful that since Robin Williams death, people are more apt to at least talk about it.  It’s life – just with a complication that needs to be reigned in once in awhile.

I take it one day at a time and devote everything I have to my children when I can.  They make me happy.  They keep me sane.  They are my lifesavers.

Encourage, engage, entertain, and foster the discussion.  The stigma needs to go away.

So to those who see me on bad days – I’m sorry.  It’s only a moment in time.  My black hole will soon be filled with candlelight and once again my voice will ring loud and clear.

Judgement

How dare you sit there in judgement of me.  Don’t you know there is only One that can judge me?

I don’t have to answer to you.

I don’t care what you think.

You can’t hurt me.

Tough words, huh?

Too bad I don’t believe them.

I sit in judgement of myself.  I look in the mirror and see how desperately broken I am.  I don’t know who I am.  I don’t know what I want.  How dare I let anyone else bring me further down?

And yet I do.  I have pulled away from everyone.  Every friend I have.  Even my closest.  I trust no one.  My own brother won’t reach out to me.  I hear it is because he “doesn’t know what to say.”  How about something alone the lines of “How are you?”

It doesn’t take much to hurt me these days. A wrong look or an innocent enough comment is enough to undo any progress I’ve made with myself.

You can ask me how I’m doing.  Just be prepared for me to lie.  I’ve tried the honesty route.

So, piece number one of my jagged mirror examined. I will no longer look at people and judge without knowing the facts. As others are currently doing to me.

In order to work on myself I have to work on how I treat others if I expect others to treat me better.

I challenge all of you to do the same.

The Mirror

 

When you look in the mirror what do you see?

Look harder.  Now what do you see?

Look hard enough and you see flaws in your appearance.

Look even harder.  Stare in to your eyes.  Now what do you see?

Bigger flaws.  Flaws deep down in your soul.

I blame myself.  I am punishing myself.  I don’t like who I have become.

I hate the mirror.

Divorce is never easy.  It seems people assume that because you instigate a divorce you gave up or were over it.  Neither is further from the truth.

Unless you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, be them heels, boots, sneakers, or flip flops, you have no right to judge me.  If you had, you would see the struggle, the fight, the tears and the hopelessness I’ve felt.  I didn’t take the easy way out.  I fought and fought.

We’ve all heard it.  “No one said marriage was easy.”  I knew it took work.  What I came to realize is that no relationship should not take as much work as I was putting into them, be it a marriage or a friendship.  I fought hard.  Numerous times.  In the end you have to choose which path is best for you and your future.

I have abandoned myself.  I don’t know who I am.  I’ve lost my identity.  I am no longer a wife.  The only title I have for myself these days remains as “Mommy.”  While I love that title, what else am I?

I’ve sacrificed so much.  Great jobs came and went.  Hobbies couldn’t be joined.  I am nowhere near my family.  I stay in Quincy for my children and my job.  But isn’t there suppose to be more to life?

The biggest obstacle for me has been that I love the man…even today.  To my core.  And he can move on.  He already has in a way.  I let him.  Only to discover my already broken heart shattered .  In 365 pieces.

Like a mirror that cracks and breaks, my heart has done same thing.  I am broken.  My insides are sharp.  You can’t glue a mirror back together.

I am not writing this for sympathy.  I am not writing this for attention.  Rather I am writing this because writing is a gift.  Writing is what I studied.  It is the gift God gave me.  It is my greatest strength.  The ability to express myself when my vocal words fail.  I also write because I like to believe my thoughts or stories can help someone else.  I feel alone.  And I know there has to be others out there that feel the same.  What we all need to realize, in one way or another, is that we really aren’t.

Starting today, I will be take a deep breath and try to dry my tear stained cheeks.  I will attempt to move forward one day at a time.  Aptly named, my blog will chronicle my journey for the next 365 days of truth seeking.  Each piece will be picked up and examined.  A new coping mechanism will be formed and the days that follow will bring new healing to each broken piece.  Like a mirror, some pieces are bigger than others.  The bigger pieces will be easy to fix.  The smaller ones will take time.

And so my journey begins with a single question.

Now what?