evidence of my former life

we had a yard sale this past saturday.  i’d been meaning to go thru some boxes but had been dreading it.  my hope chest and about 4 other boxes were full of stuff i hadn’t looked at since they were shipped from my ex.

ex husband.  ex home.  ex life.

i opened my hope chest, a gift from my nana, to see scarves i’d collected from all over the world.  then i see frames which i quickly looked at, and depending on the photo, i either smiled at or flipped over, removed the picture from the frame, ripped it up and put the frame in a bin for sale.

i saw several perfumed waxes from turkey, soapstone figurines from greece, and other treasures that i’d blocked out with all the bad that had visited me in the last 4 years.

i pulled on what i thought was a scarf, but it was my wedding veil, which quickly went into the trash bag so i wouldn’t have to see it anymore.  there were more pictures from my wedding.  people who were no longer my family.  i threw them out.  i don’t even feel bad about it.

there was a framed picture of my ex and me at our wedding.  i looked only long enough to see that he had crushed the glass and decided to send it to me anyway.  thank goodness the frame was there, and not me, to receive that dose of anger.

and that was the worst of it.  i packed the stuff up, threw it away.  cried just a bit.  and went to see vegas.

i realize that i’ve blocked a lot of good out with the bad.  but honestly, i think the bad outweighs the good and puts everything in its shadow.  i have a hard time compartmentalizing that time in my life, and it is easier for me to pretend it never happened than to acknowledge that there were small bits of happiness that occurred.

there are small things that remind me, i try not to think of them.  in a situation like this, i think it was better that i deal with it, so i don’t have to again.  that may be cowardice, but it’s working so far, and i don’t know what else to do.

one missed call

i’m in the middle of my day, and i look at my phone and see a missed call.  from what number?  it looks familiar mostly because it begins with my ex’s area code.

and then all the breath goes out of my chest, my heart sinks into my stomach and i feel like i’m going to throw up.

i hate that he has this power over me.  i don’t even know if it was him, i erased his number long ago.  but just that hint, just that forced memory has ruined my day.  i feel scared and helpless and i’m nervous about being anywhere alone.

all i want to do is hide in my room and go to sleep.

i’ll face the world again tomorrow.

last night i didn’t sleep

and not for any fun reason like you might be thinking.

i’ll be honest, i  was exhausted.  my good friend nicole and i went wine tasting that afternoon, ate a big lunch, then i went to vegas’s and had a beer and gatorade and we watched a movie and i was so tired.  but i couldn’t sleep.

this whole weekend i’ve surrounded myself and distracted myself bc i can’t help thinking that it is my ex’s birthday today.  it is just another day, but it was a day that held deep consequence for me for 7 years.  and out of habit, or conditioning, maybe, i can’t get it out of my head.

this is probably unfair, but i feel like someone who gave CPR to a person who still ended up dead.  as much as he didn’t deserve it and even though, i probably cause more self-injury by staying longer than i should have, i still feel guilty for failing at the relationship.  not him.  i hate him.  but the life i had built, even though most of it was alone, i feel guilty for giving up.  for admitting defeat and running for safety.

i also decided that i have to start forgiving myself for that, which makes me cry every time i think about it.  i didn’t realize that part of me has been holding the other hostage until i admitted that i was punishing myself.  as if he didn’t do enough or the divorce didn’t take enough out of me.  part of me believed that was all i deserved and that was what my life was supposed to be.  i honestly believed that it was my chance at love, and i blew it. 

every time i think i’m getting so much better, things i don’t even realize are bothering me seem to blow up in my face.  i know it is good that i’m admitting the pain and the guilt and accepting that and moving on, but it is not that easy.  being strong and admitting vulnerability and wounds is hard.  it is impossible.

“nothing is hard and scary forever” right?  i just need to keep remebering that this will pass.

meeting the parents

good god.  i don’t know what came over me yesterday, but i was exchanging emails with my mother, and mentioned vegas, and casually segued into “he’s been around 4 months, i guess you should meet him.  can i make us all dinner one night?”

jesus.  then she writes back, in shock i’m sure, that they can do monday.  monday.  MONDAY!

vegas is meeting my mom on monday.  dear lord. 

now, i’ve met his parents 3 times.  but, he was “pro meeting the parents” from 3 weeks in.  and i can see why.  his parents are nice.  i was instantly comfortable.

ok, that may not be SO fair.  my mom went thru a tremendous amount as a single mother and now that she is happily married, and we are all out of the house, she fancies herself a little bit of a love guru.  which is very irritating. 

and to be 100% honest, i resent her for not flying out to texas the minute she found out what my ex did.  i know i was a grown up then, as i am now, but i was scared and alone, and i needed my mother.  and she didn’t come.  she is also the only person my ex still contacts about little things still being processed in the divorce and it is always uncomfortable when they come up.  that is to be expected.  what isn’t expected or appreciated is when she says things like “you know, he can really be pretty wonderful” in regards to my ex.  no, he isn’t.  wonderful people don’t abuse the people they “love.”  a wonderful person wouldn’t hurt your daughter.

needless to say, my relationship with my mother has been strained in the 2 years i’ve been back.  when she calls, i often ignore it, bc i don’t know what kind of conversation it is gonna be.  if it is going to be accusatory or upsetting or just a call to see what i’m up to. 

and now she’s going to meet the first man i’ve really cared about since, and i’m terrified.  my sister doesn’t get it, bc my sister doesn’t know everything.  then again, my mom doesn’t know everything either.  why would i tell them?  after they said that i should keep “giving counseling a chance.”  i didn’t want to go into detail and make them understand.  it was horrible enough once.

i walked away with post traumatic stress disorder, a perpetual migraine, sleeping and anxiety disorders.  and i still feel lucky that i’m kinda ok.  i’m trying to move forward, and trying to be happy.

the reality of it is that it is me.  it is me that has the issues introducing vegas to family.  mostly bc it means i’m ready to do “family like things.”  i don’t mean like move in or get a pet or anything.  but little things.  share weekends, take my nephews to the movies, make plans.  making plans for months in advance.  because i feel like he’ll be around.  because family always is.

 

geez, this blog got away from me.

on being haunted

i’m haunted by my past.  i’m haunted by my late marriage.  it follows me, makes me miserable, makes me sad to think of things that once gave me joy.

it is a dead thing.  dead memories.  they’ll never change and never get better.  a great man said about his lost son that the memory of the death will always hurt, but in time it will be like a piece of glass in the ocean, and the rough edges will smooth and he’ll be able to handle it without fear of injury.  i don’t feel that way.  this will always be miserable.  it will never be easy. 

it has been almost exactly 20 months since i left him.  since i packed everything i could in my car and drove for 3 days because i was tired of living in fear.  

i still look over my shoulder nervously in airports and malls, and i still am paranoid about a car that might be following me.

i’ll feel so good about regaining my sense of self and independence and then out of the blue, i get an email or a text or read a news story, and i’m back to hiding and being so scared all i want to do is sleep.