The fact that I wore huge bifocals as a kid wasn't enough for "God" to gift me with. He apparently was feeling generous on the day of my creation and decided that one deficiency wasn't enough for me to overcome. So, to add further injury to my optically challenged insult, I was also stricken with mountain sized warts.
My first one was the size of an eraser head and, since it resided in the palm of my left hand, was hide able. I reasoned that it began one day when a rose thorn pricked me in the exact spot that was now adorned with a scalloped wart. Upon it's discovery I contemplated moving away to an island for rejects, but I found my life could continue as per usual. I quickly adapted and learned how to hide my wart. When washing my hands in public I was careful not to tilt my hand so that someone could spot it. And, given my huge bifocals, I surely wasn't going to be holding a boy's hand anytime soon so I didn't have to bother worrying about being discovered that way either. It wasn't long before my mom took me to the doctor and with his Frankenstein-like contraption he burned my wart off with a beam of electricity. The smell of victory was sweet and similar to the smell of burning flesh.
And then, in a matter of a few months they spread. Little by little the cauliflower offenders began to sprout up like a canvas over the top of my left hand. One wart was manageable, but now, every morning I awoke to find another cluster. They would start out as little unoffensive bumps that quickly grew in size. They reminded me of the sponge capsules you would put into a dish with water that would expand into a huge sponge creature where the little pill once was. I would stare at my hands every night before bedtime trying to commit their size to memory. Every morning I awoke to find the clusters were growing larger. I had dreams of them overtaking my entire body until I was one huge wart monster terrorizing the town folk.
As they grew they inevitably became harder to hide. When I was in class writing at my desk I would cover my left hand with my right hand as I wrote, successfully masking all 8 warts that covered the top of my left hand, but looking autistic and strange as I did so. Being left handed called enough attention to me, now I was the strange lefty who held the pencil with both hands. I was able to do this for one grade level and then, over the summer, they began sprouting up all over my right hand.
By the end of summer I looked at my plagued hands and cried. It was the end of my 5th grade year and I had hoped, in vain, for a new beginning in junior high. Unlike most other girls who would wish on stars to kiss a boy or get a pony, my wishes were for pretty hands and 20/20 vision.
I had tried everything to get rid of them. Given, this was many years before the invention of the Internet, I was reliant upon simple here say about how to eradicate warts. Since it was a topic that I would only talk about to my family, my main source was my grandfather. His advice - wait for a night when there is a full moon and on that night cut a tomato in half and stand naked in the backyard smashing the tomato onto all of my warts. Spin around in a circle and scream as loud as I could, "warts be gone, warts be gone". Thankfully, had it not been for my fear of public nudity, I may have attempted this ritual.
The thought of returning from summer as an even uglier 6th grader had reduced me to tears. Soon I was crying so hard, the kind of crying that you make that funny stuttered breathing sound, that I hadn't noticed my dad had walked into the room. If you knew my dad, you would understand that his ability to deal with an adolescent girl was right up there with his ability to swallow fire. There was nothing more out of his comfort zone than trying to deal with emotions, let alone mine.
Given that modern day health care escaped my father and that his idea of first aid was sewing his own finger back on with a needle and fishing line, it was no surprise that I found myself driving with him in his van to his "doctor friend's" office with a Thermos in my lap. I didn't question where we were going, all I knew was my dad was determined to get me to stop crying and that was enough for me. So I followed him, like a trusting and hopeful puppy into the waiting area as he gave the receptionist his name and muttered something about being a friend of the doctors and that, "he would know what it was regarding". Within minutes the doctor asked for us to come back and we were ushered into one of the patient rooms. He came in behind us and asked me for the Thermos. I hoped he wasn't asking for it because he was thirsty and cursed myself for not thinking to fill it with something before we left the house. Quickly my Thermos and the doctor left the room. I sat there in silence wondering what sort of exchange my father had worked out with this strange doctor and why the doctor was more interested in my Thermos than he was with seeing my warts. Soon he came back in the room and handed me the Thermos which was cold to the touch. "Be careful not to spill it on yourself" he said to me with a chuckle which was a cause for concern on my part. He and my dad exchanged awkward pleasantries and my dad and I left.
On the way home I held the Thermos tightly wondering what magical liquid the good doctor had filled it with. Was I supposed to drink it? Maybe it was a syrup I would drink and would kill all the warts. I imagined with great satisfaction the warts drying up and falling away from my hands leaving silky skin in their place. When we got home my dad positioned a chair over the sink in the kitchen and then dropped a handful of Q-tips on a paper towel next to the Thermos. "Just dip them in the dry ice and then press them on your warts. I'm going to watch TV, call me if you need anything." And with that my dad left his 10 year old daughter with a Thermos of dry ice and shaky hands.
I dipped the Q-tip cautiously into the bubbling frosting liquid and then stared at it for a moment before lightly touching it to the surface of the largest wart. It didn't hurt as much as I had imagined so I pushed the tip down with more force and it made a sizzling sound. I grit my teeth tightly together as electric jolts of pain radiated in my wart and up through my arm. At first, the pain caught me off guard but then, the hatred and anger towards them and all they plagued me with took over and I began finding joy in the possibility. I imagined myself wart-free for the first time in years. I imagined writing papers at my desk with ease, with nothing to hide from anyone. First, I focused on the warts on my right hand since I was naturally a lefty and could hold the Q-tip with more precision. After 40 minutes, I held my shaky right hand up and admired the beauty. The white cauliflower masses were now purple and blue suffocated masses encircled by red inflamed rings. Then my shaky and battered right hand enthusiastically grabbed a Q-tip and retaliated with brutal force. By the time I was done my hands looked more tragic than ever but I knew it was a sign of greater things to come.
I went to bed that night with throbbing hands. Stronger than my desire to cry from the pain, was my satisfaction. That night I dreamt of the town folk raging up against the wart monster that had plagued them for many moons. Tired of being the victim of his torment they carried flaming torches into the night. They tracked down the wart monster and backed him into a dark alley. The wart monster screamed as they burned him with their torches and then the screams began to fade...the wart monster was dead.
And they all lived happily ever after...
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Friday, April 3, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Debt That Plagues Us
I have been struggling - no drowning is more accurate - in debt for the past decade, or so it feels like a decade. A sick dog here, a broken down car there, that pizza back in 1998...I am still paying for all of it. In today's economy, I am paying an even higher price considering that APR continues to climb and minimum payments are on the rise. We are on the verge of a credit crisis and I am on the verge of a financial stress meltdown---my situation is not Madoff worthy, but in my little world it may as well be!
I am trying to stay positive because when I stress about money, oddly enough I care less about money, so I spend haphazardly and we all know that $5 here and $10 there ends up being a tremendous mound of debt if not manged properly. I have let go of the hopeless dreams that I will win the lottery - because - let's be honest, chances are I would just charge the lotto tickets if I could.
Debt consumes much of my thoughts during the day. I write budgets down, I try to create a math formula to manipulate the numbers trying desperately to find some feasible way to pay off all my debt before Easter. And every time, I come up with nothing. Because fact separated from fiction, my only choice is to stop the madness of debt and go about it the old fashioned way (contrary to popular belief - that isn't marrying into money).
Here is what I know about paying off debt:
1. Pay more than the minimum balance owed - if you only pay the minimum you end up paying the debt for the rest of your life and when all is said and done you paid the same amount of money that it costs to buy a small island in Fiji.
2. Try to get them to lower your APR - This process is scarier than calling that special stranger you met in the bar last weekend. You sit there with a script in front of you, you practice your lines out loud before making the call and no matter what it always ends up being an awkward conversation. But in the end it's worth it and can have great benefits...translation-it can potentially save you money.
3. Pay off the lowest debt first if possible - so you can eventually pay a lump sum to just one card - contrary to the popular belief that the best way is to pay off the one with the highest interest rate.
4. STOP using the cards - If I followed #4, there would be no blog post about this matter.
5. Try to hold onto sanity - If I was sane there would be no blog post about this matter.
And the most important lesson I have learned is---
NO matter how much money you make it is never enough - I keep thinking that if I just made $20,000 more a year I would be just fine...case and point - I started saying that minus $40,000 ago and I am still saying it. UNLESS you manage your finances and stick to a budget and don't use credit cards to buy things you can't afford, then all the money in the world will NEVER be enough!
I don't have a closet full of expensive clothes or designer purses, but that is no excuse - - even worse - - it's a terrible excuse because all that means is I have nothing to show for my debt but debt itself. The debt has outlasted whatever I have spent it on. Minus my doggy Jack, his health is a big ole' chunk of my debt and he is still alive and well.
What I vow to do:
1- Stop charging - this means no more acupuncture treatments - - which is sad for me because they were really starting to help. It means no more charging that $20 top that I should just wait for the next pay period to go out and buy with cash. It means that when I am broke I am broke and credit can't help sustain me until the next paycheck.
2 - Let go of the dream that I can strip for 2 months to pay it all off because - let's be honest - I am too uncoordinated to walk in Lucite stilettos and black lights are too unforgiving on pale skin. My stripper pole opportunity ship has sailed long ago.
3 - Consider all options - This time I will go beyond consideration of selling my eggs, liver, spleen or kidneys. Body parts aside, there are other areas of spending I can cut. For example, I no longer visit Starbucks daily which has saved me $80 a month - when I first considered it though I was more convinced I could live without my liver than I could without my Starbucks.
4 - Repeat steps 1-3 until all the debt is gone.
I have no idea when I will get to the bottom of my debt but I know there is a bottom and I know I will get there...maybe not by Easter but someday!
I am trying to stay positive because when I stress about money, oddly enough I care less about money, so I spend haphazardly and we all know that $5 here and $10 there ends up being a tremendous mound of debt if not manged properly. I have let go of the hopeless dreams that I will win the lottery - because - let's be honest, chances are I would just charge the lotto tickets if I could.
Debt consumes much of my thoughts during the day. I write budgets down, I try to create a math formula to manipulate the numbers trying desperately to find some feasible way to pay off all my debt before Easter. And every time, I come up with nothing. Because fact separated from fiction, my only choice is to stop the madness of debt and go about it the old fashioned way (contrary to popular belief - that isn't marrying into money).
Here is what I know about paying off debt:
1. Pay more than the minimum balance owed - if you only pay the minimum you end up paying the debt for the rest of your life and when all is said and done you paid the same amount of money that it costs to buy a small island in Fiji.
2. Try to get them to lower your APR - This process is scarier than calling that special stranger you met in the bar last weekend. You sit there with a script in front of you, you practice your lines out loud before making the call and no matter what it always ends up being an awkward conversation. But in the end it's worth it and can have great benefits...translation-it can potentially save you money.
3. Pay off the lowest debt first if possible - so you can eventually pay a lump sum to just one card - contrary to the popular belief that the best way is to pay off the one with the highest interest rate.
4. STOP using the cards - If I followed #4, there would be no blog post about this matter.
5. Try to hold onto sanity - If I was sane there would be no blog post about this matter.
And the most important lesson I have learned is---
NO matter how much money you make it is never enough - I keep thinking that if I just made $20,000 more a year I would be just fine...case and point - I started saying that minus $40,000 ago and I am still saying it. UNLESS you manage your finances and stick to a budget and don't use credit cards to buy things you can't afford, then all the money in the world will NEVER be enough!
I don't have a closet full of expensive clothes or designer purses, but that is no excuse - - even worse - - it's a terrible excuse because all that means is I have nothing to show for my debt but debt itself. The debt has outlasted whatever I have spent it on. Minus my doggy Jack, his health is a big ole' chunk of my debt and he is still alive and well.
What I vow to do:
1- Stop charging - this means no more acupuncture treatments - - which is sad for me because they were really starting to help. It means no more charging that $20 top that I should just wait for the next pay period to go out and buy with cash. It means that when I am broke I am broke and credit can't help sustain me until the next paycheck.
2 - Let go of the dream that I can strip for 2 months to pay it all off because - let's be honest - I am too uncoordinated to walk in Lucite stilettos and black lights are too unforgiving on pale skin. My stripper pole opportunity ship has sailed long ago.
3 - Consider all options - This time I will go beyond consideration of selling my eggs, liver, spleen or kidneys. Body parts aside, there are other areas of spending I can cut. For example, I no longer visit Starbucks daily which has saved me $80 a month - when I first considered it though I was more convinced I could live without my liver than I could without my Starbucks.
4 - Repeat steps 1-3 until all the debt is gone.
I have no idea when I will get to the bottom of my debt but I know there is a bottom and I know I will get there...maybe not by Easter but someday!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Contractions
The good thing about breakups is that eventually the pain fades away. No matter how heart wrenching and painful the pain fades. One minute you're crying uncontrollably and the next you're filled with hope. Hopeful for what tomorrow has in store for you. The hard part is you can never time those moments. You can't tell if the time when you're in a work meeting is going to be the moment that you feel hope or the moment you're going to be overcome by desperation. Desperation so intense that anybody who makes eye contact with you can send you into hysterics.
When going through a break up, your feelings are not your own. They belong to the moment and the moment is as unpredictable as a teenager on prom night. And for everyone the breakup recovery time is different because it's not a science, it's an art form. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could log on to a website, complete a survey and get a compiled analysis based on our responses to how long we can expect to mourn over our failed relationship:
Were you married...add 70 days
Did he cheat...add 37 days
If you were together for more than a year...add 50 days
If you weren't the one to end the relationship...add 45 days
Did he turn out to be a complete pussy....subtract 22 days
Total Mourn Time: 180 Days
Someone once told me that it takes twice the time you were with someone to finally get over them. I'm not sure how much truth there is in that statement but I do think that recovery time is in direct correlation with how honest you are with your emotions. You can be stuck in anger, resentment or rage in order to help yourself get over a relationship...and for many anger may sustain their emotional safety for years. Or you can be honest with your emotions and embrace them as they come.
If you feel SAD...cry.
If you feel MAD...yell.
If you feel HOPELESS....eat...don't ever underestimate the healing powers of foods covered in salt, butter or sugar and all things dipped in ranch dressing.
Anger is a powerful thing, but it isn't real. Anger isn't the pure emotion it's the reaction that we get when we feel sad, scared and hopeless. I'm guilty of moving to anger. In past relationships anger was my dear close and trusted friend. When I went through a break up it would carry me with such ease that I would sail from one relationship to the next. Thinking to myself, "Well clearly I wasn't in love with that person, because if I was, how the heck could I be doing so well right now?"
But in the end it always caught up with me. I even got back together with some ex's because once my anger high crashed me into the ground of sadness all my true emotions bubbled back up. Instead of realizing that these were skeleton memories I thought they meant I still loved the guy...so I got back together with him only to find myself in the midst of repeat break up months later. It was like some really messed up torturous Groundhog Day.
Don't get me wrong, there have been a few relationships I regret walking away from and wonder what would have happened had I stayed. But the truth is, and forgive me for sounding like a stitched grandma pillow, everything happens for a reason. Should I have stayed I may have never learned all I have about relationships at this point in my life.
I was just in a relationship with someone I thought I knew. The truth is that I met him, fell in love with him and four months into the relationship things began to fall apart. He stopped being the sweet person I was in love with and began to become resentful and quick tempered. The scary thing is that people change over the years. Someone you knew for years and years may do something so out of left field that it leaves you feeling like you never knew them at all...but inherently if the love is there I have to trust that it will see you through.
If I am going to continue to be honest with myself I would have to say I knew there were red flags throughout the relationship but instead of running away, like I have a tendency to do, I stayed and tried to work on it. I spent months on a recon mission trying to find the man I fell in love with. But as the great and wise Oprah always says...trust your gut, and I publicly apologize to you now Ms. Winfrey, I did not take your infinite wisdom.
In all my past relationships I've always known when my gut was telling me to walk away. Somehow my gut knew better than I that my dating journey wasn't over yet. I still had places to go, guys to kiss and guys to regret...I still had bars to visit, places to dance and movies to go to.
Relationships have so much to do with timing. I've met people that I could picture myself settling down with only to find that he was still in the, "I would rather go to a club or bar than watch Netflix with you and BBQ on Friday night" phase. I am starting to think that relationships have much more to do with timing than with love. If the fate and timing gods smile upon your courtship...then maybe you get lucky and your paths stay crossed and time won't lead you astray.
I have digressed from my initial point. Breakups are hard...they are harder than hard...they are torture. They turn you upside down, they make you fear things you never found scary before like listening to the radio, going to certain restaurants, eating certain foods, traveling to certain locations, seeing certain pictures.
The world suddenly becomes saturated with couples...suddenly it seems like everyone is getting married or having babies or finding someone wonderful....everyone except you. But I find comfort when I try to realize that I am mourning the death of the relationship, the loss of something I thought life had in store for me. In my current situation (and many of the ones before) I am starting to realize that my pain isn't that much about losing them, it's about losing what I thought they meant to my life.
I am in day three and I have to say my breakup contractions are growing further and further apart. My empty house seemed less scary this morning and I can only hope that tomorrow it's even less so. Maybe next weekI will be able to look at his picture without getting a lump in my throat and hopefully next month I can go to a somewhere we use to go to together without feeling like I have rubber bands around my stomach.
And maybe...just maybe in a few months time I will be able to smile back at that one guy and begin a new chapter using all I have learned in this relationship to make the next journey better.
When going through a break up, your feelings are not your own. They belong to the moment and the moment is as unpredictable as a teenager on prom night. And for everyone the breakup recovery time is different because it's not a science, it's an art form. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could log on to a website, complete a survey and get a compiled analysis based on our responses to how long we can expect to mourn over our failed relationship:
Were you married...add 70 days
Did he cheat...add 37 days
If you were together for more than a year...add 50 days
If you weren't the one to end the relationship...add 45 days
Did he turn out to be a complete pussy....subtract 22 days
Total Mourn Time: 180 Days
Someone once told me that it takes twice the time you were with someone to finally get over them. I'm not sure how much truth there is in that statement but I do think that recovery time is in direct correlation with how honest you are with your emotions. You can be stuck in anger, resentment or rage in order to help yourself get over a relationship...and for many anger may sustain their emotional safety for years. Or you can be honest with your emotions and embrace them as they come.
If you feel SAD...cry.
If you feel MAD...yell.
If you feel HOPELESS....eat...don't ever underestimate the healing powers of foods covered in salt, butter or sugar and all things dipped in ranch dressing.
Anger is a powerful thing, but it isn't real. Anger isn't the pure emotion it's the reaction that we get when we feel sad, scared and hopeless. I'm guilty of moving to anger. In past relationships anger was my dear close and trusted friend. When I went through a break up it would carry me with such ease that I would sail from one relationship to the next. Thinking to myself, "Well clearly I wasn't in love with that person, because if I was, how the heck could I be doing so well right now?"
But in the end it always caught up with me. I even got back together with some ex's because once my anger high crashed me into the ground of sadness all my true emotions bubbled back up. Instead of realizing that these were skeleton memories I thought they meant I still loved the guy...so I got back together with him only to find myself in the midst of repeat break up months later. It was like some really messed up torturous Groundhog Day.
Don't get me wrong, there have been a few relationships I regret walking away from and wonder what would have happened had I stayed. But the truth is, and forgive me for sounding like a stitched grandma pillow, everything happens for a reason. Should I have stayed I may have never learned all I have about relationships at this point in my life.
I was just in a relationship with someone I thought I knew. The truth is that I met him, fell in love with him and four months into the relationship things began to fall apart. He stopped being the sweet person I was in love with and began to become resentful and quick tempered. The scary thing is that people change over the years. Someone you knew for years and years may do something so out of left field that it leaves you feeling like you never knew them at all...but inherently if the love is there I have to trust that it will see you through.
If I am going to continue to be honest with myself I would have to say I knew there were red flags throughout the relationship but instead of running away, like I have a tendency to do, I stayed and tried to work on it. I spent months on a recon mission trying to find the man I fell in love with. But as the great and wise Oprah always says...trust your gut, and I publicly apologize to you now Ms. Winfrey, I did not take your infinite wisdom.
In all my past relationships I've always known when my gut was telling me to walk away. Somehow my gut knew better than I that my dating journey wasn't over yet. I still had places to go, guys to kiss and guys to regret...I still had bars to visit, places to dance and movies to go to.
Relationships have so much to do with timing. I've met people that I could picture myself settling down with only to find that he was still in the, "I would rather go to a club or bar than watch Netflix with you and BBQ on Friday night" phase. I am starting to think that relationships have much more to do with timing than with love. If the fate and timing gods smile upon your courtship...then maybe you get lucky and your paths stay crossed and time won't lead you astray.
I have digressed from my initial point. Breakups are hard...they are harder than hard...they are torture. They turn you upside down, they make you fear things you never found scary before like listening to the radio, going to certain restaurants, eating certain foods, traveling to certain locations, seeing certain pictures.
The world suddenly becomes saturated with couples...suddenly it seems like everyone is getting married or having babies or finding someone wonderful....everyone except you. But I find comfort when I try to realize that I am mourning the death of the relationship, the loss of something I thought life had in store for me. In my current situation (and many of the ones before) I am starting to realize that my pain isn't that much about losing them, it's about losing what I thought they meant to my life.
I am in day three and I have to say my breakup contractions are growing further and further apart. My empty house seemed less scary this morning and I can only hope that tomorrow it's even less so. Maybe next weekI will be able to look at his picture without getting a lump in my throat and hopefully next month I can go to a somewhere we use to go to together without feeling like I have rubber bands around my stomach.
And maybe...just maybe in a few months time I will be able to smile back at that one guy and begin a new chapter using all I have learned in this relationship to make the next journey better.
Monday, July 14, 2008
break up, break down
The only thing that is holding me together right now is Gloria Gayner in my head singing "I Will Survive". The only thing that got me to stop crying and wallowing last night was Season Two of Sex and the City, the episodes where Samantha, Miranda and Charolette gathered around Carrie to help her over the break-up with "Big" (for the first time). Well, that and the fact that my friend stayed with me so I didn't have to face the empty apartment filled with the stench of memories, alone.
Showers, eating, sleeping, walking, talking all seem like impossible tasks. Each time I try to take the first step I may as well be climbing Everest with a elephant on my back. I made it to work but focusing on anything else besides breathing deeply from one minute to the next is the only thing I am capable of. My eyes look puffy and only half the people I tell that I have allergies today actually believe me. I can't help but recount every moment of yesterday. From the moment I walked out the door, to the moment I walked through the door to unexpectedly find our entire apartment empty. Left with nothing but questions on how did the man I thought I loved turn out to be less than a man. A coward who scurries away secretly while I am out for the day, leaving me to return to an empty apartment with no bed to sleep in, no note, no phone call, no explaination.
I will not say I was perfect for a minute, I know my faults and what I did wrong. What I don't know is how someone who said they loved you moments before, someone who said they wanted to build a life with you...just runs away from it all to hide. I will never have the answers...and really Iwhy do I even need them. I understood he didn't want to be with me anymore what I struggle to understand is how he could do it so cold heartedly with no remorse, no feelings and no love at all. The "man" I knew never even existed. Why would I want someone who doesn't love and appreciate me? Someone who is childish in the way they deal with emotions and relationships. Someone who is resentful and spineless. I move through the different stages of loss with each passing minute, without staying in any of them too long....
Questioning: How strong can love be when one moment someone says they love you and want to build a life with you and the next they shut down and walk away? Love must be only as strong as the moment it's in. It's imperfect and wavering. For once I wanted to try my best to make it work and as a result I am left with nothing but questions.
Anger: He is a bastard, a coward, a liar, a con. He isn't a man, he isn't even half a man, if he were here I would punch him, bite him, stab him, tear his hair out. He is a child, an emotional cripple, he deserves to spend all his days in torment.
Sadness: The uncontrollable sobbing I do in the most random of moments, one minute I feel fine and hopeful and then a second later I am sobbing hysterically from the deepest part of my gut. Feeling hopeless and scared and confused and most painfully, never loved.
Denial: I think this is the moment right before sadness. It's that moment where my mind for a split second says, "there is no way this is happening"...."there is no way this is for real, he will come back, he will be sorry and he will do something amazing to try and show how sorry he is." This lasts for a split second and then I realize what an asshole he is and then I move to anger.
Relief: If only I could stay here for most of my time the pain would pass much quicker. I don't have to deal with him putting me down, I feel free from his rude comments and misplaced anger, I feel hopeful that someday I will find someone who is all he could never be, I no longer have to deal with his unreasonable, coddling, imbalanced mother. I don't have to be with someone who exists only to work, I feel relieved that I finally get a chance to be with someone who appreciates me and my dogs and all that I bring to the table.
Regret: I should have left him months ago. I should have seen this coming. I shouldn't have held my tongue in those moments when he said terrible things to me. I shouldn't have given him so much credit. I am a terrible judge of character. I regret the day I met him, I regret moving in with him, I regret ever trying to convince myself that he was more than what he really was.
Acceptance: Granted it is only day one, which is why I'm sure I have spent very little time in this stage. I accept that he has left...and that is okay with me. What I struggle to accept is the horrible way in which he chose to leave. I can't accept that and I don't know if I ever will.
Forgiveness: He sent me a text message - - yes a chicken shit text message - - saying that he hopes one day I will be able to forgive him. I don't know if I will ever get to that point. Right now I am stuck in the "I want you to burn in hell and torment" point. And quite honestly I am pretty comfortable here.
When you're going through a break up you need your friends. I have grown terrified of quiet rooms in my house. Going into the bedroom feels like diving to the bottom of a pool, holding my breath long enough to grab some clothes and then having to burst out, scared that I am going to drown.
My friends have gathered around me like I knew they would. Those with significant others stand in strength. My single friends do the same, but are silently thanking their stars that they aren't me. They ask questions trying to decode the mystery of it all, hoping to spare themselves some pain in the future based on my experience.
One of my friends wants to egg his car, T.P. his mom's house and call him to yell at him. While I would never let her do so (nor would she ever follow through) I love the idea of it and have spent a good part of today picturing it in my head. But I am human and with that comes the need for revenge. And oh, how badly I want revenge. I want to punch him in the face, say all the mean things I held inside because I didn't want to hurt him. I pray that I will get it one day..and when I do it will be the revenge in finding someone wonderful that is everything he wasn't. Someone who appreciates me the way I deserve, someone who loves me for my faults and for my strengths. And for as long as I need it I will sing along with Gloria, watch as many movies as I can and lean on my family and friends. I did love the idea of who he was but he turned out to be nothing at all. He isn't my lobster...he may have moved out but I will move on.
Showers, eating, sleeping, walking, talking all seem like impossible tasks. Each time I try to take the first step I may as well be climbing Everest with a elephant on my back. I made it to work but focusing on anything else besides breathing deeply from one minute to the next is the only thing I am capable of. My eyes look puffy and only half the people I tell that I have allergies today actually believe me. I can't help but recount every moment of yesterday. From the moment I walked out the door, to the moment I walked through the door to unexpectedly find our entire apartment empty. Left with nothing but questions on how did the man I thought I loved turn out to be less than a man. A coward who scurries away secretly while I am out for the day, leaving me to return to an empty apartment with no bed to sleep in, no note, no phone call, no explaination.
I will not say I was perfect for a minute, I know my faults and what I did wrong. What I don't know is how someone who said they loved you moments before, someone who said they wanted to build a life with you...just runs away from it all to hide. I will never have the answers...and really Iwhy do I even need them. I understood he didn't want to be with me anymore what I struggle to understand is how he could do it so cold heartedly with no remorse, no feelings and no love at all. The "man" I knew never even existed. Why would I want someone who doesn't love and appreciate me? Someone who is childish in the way they deal with emotions and relationships. Someone who is resentful and spineless. I move through the different stages of loss with each passing minute, without staying in any of them too long....
Questioning: How strong can love be when one moment someone says they love you and want to build a life with you and the next they shut down and walk away? Love must be only as strong as the moment it's in. It's imperfect and wavering. For once I wanted to try my best to make it work and as a result I am left with nothing but questions.
Anger: He is a bastard, a coward, a liar, a con. He isn't a man, he isn't even half a man, if he were here I would punch him, bite him, stab him, tear his hair out. He is a child, an emotional cripple, he deserves to spend all his days in torment.
Sadness: The uncontrollable sobbing I do in the most random of moments, one minute I feel fine and hopeful and then a second later I am sobbing hysterically from the deepest part of my gut. Feeling hopeless and scared and confused and most painfully, never loved.
Denial: I think this is the moment right before sadness. It's that moment where my mind for a split second says, "there is no way this is happening"...."there is no way this is for real, he will come back, he will be sorry and he will do something amazing to try and show how sorry he is." This lasts for a split second and then I realize what an asshole he is and then I move to anger.
Relief: If only I could stay here for most of my time the pain would pass much quicker. I don't have to deal with him putting me down, I feel free from his rude comments and misplaced anger, I feel hopeful that someday I will find someone who is all he could never be, I no longer have to deal with his unreasonable, coddling, imbalanced mother. I don't have to be with someone who exists only to work, I feel relieved that I finally get a chance to be with someone who appreciates me and my dogs and all that I bring to the table.
Regret: I should have left him months ago. I should have seen this coming. I shouldn't have held my tongue in those moments when he said terrible things to me. I shouldn't have given him so much credit. I am a terrible judge of character. I regret the day I met him, I regret moving in with him, I regret ever trying to convince myself that he was more than what he really was.
Acceptance: Granted it is only day one, which is why I'm sure I have spent very little time in this stage. I accept that he has left...and that is okay with me. What I struggle to accept is the horrible way in which he chose to leave. I can't accept that and I don't know if I ever will.
Forgiveness: He sent me a text message - - yes a chicken shit text message - - saying that he hopes one day I will be able to forgive him. I don't know if I will ever get to that point. Right now I am stuck in the "I want you to burn in hell and torment" point. And quite honestly I am pretty comfortable here.
When you're going through a break up you need your friends. I have grown terrified of quiet rooms in my house. Going into the bedroom feels like diving to the bottom of a pool, holding my breath long enough to grab some clothes and then having to burst out, scared that I am going to drown.
My friends have gathered around me like I knew they would. Those with significant others stand in strength. My single friends do the same, but are silently thanking their stars that they aren't me. They ask questions trying to decode the mystery of it all, hoping to spare themselves some pain in the future based on my experience.
One of my friends wants to egg his car, T.P. his mom's house and call him to yell at him. While I would never let her do so (nor would she ever follow through) I love the idea of it and have spent a good part of today picturing it in my head. But I am human and with that comes the need for revenge. And oh, how badly I want revenge. I want to punch him in the face, say all the mean things I held inside because I didn't want to hurt him. I pray that I will get it one day..and when I do it will be the revenge in finding someone wonderful that is everything he wasn't. Someone who appreciates me the way I deserve, someone who loves me for my faults and for my strengths. And for as long as I need it I will sing along with Gloria, watch as many movies as I can and lean on my family and friends. I did love the idea of who he was but he turned out to be nothing at all. He isn't my lobster...he may have moved out but I will move on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
