WRITE HARD ABOUT WHAT HURTS

Trying to sleep, but I can’t, and I keep hearing myself saying to the kids I work with, “write about what hurts, write about what keeps you awake at night.”

So I am up. And I am writing.

My ex-husband called me up today to warn me his new relationship was gaining momentum and that recently they had run into a mutual friend of ours. He wanted me to hear it from him instead of the mutual friend. He doesn’t want to hurt me more than he already has. Which sounded a little condescending of him, but I let it pass. I told him I expected his relationship was progressing because he told me it had started so well. So I was not surprised. I asked how often he saw her. He said they spent Valentine’s Day together and that she suggested they take a walk together Monday. That is when they saw the mutual friend. It was actually a parent from our daughter’s school. All I could think of was that when we first started dating, we also took a walk we around the reservoir and how we held hands and how, even though I was unsure, I thought, he was kind, and that was new for me.

He was not kind. He became very unkind.

Laying in bed next to my beautiful precious amazing daughter I have flashbacks of walking into Planned Parenthood, alone, getting an abortion with what would have been our second child, and walking out and driving myself home, alone. He was there, with our 13-month-old daughter, at the time. But I don’t remember being given any down time. Any special treatment. Any kindness, really, at all.

Alone.

He drove me to get my tubes tied after we had split up. Not long after. If it had been this long, I would have asked someone else. But at the time, he was the obvious choice.

I had no idea how painful that surgery would be. I had no fucking clue it was major fucking surgery.

He drove me home. Then he left.

Alone.

All I wanted was someone to heat up some soup. I could not walk.

Alone.

The next morning he drove me down to Orange County to pick up our daughter from her aunt and uncle’s – where she was staying the night for my surgery. We all drove home together. He dropped us off, leaving me with a four-year-old, after major surgery, and no help.

He did not even offer to take her for the night.

Alone.

I come from an ancestral line of women attracted to very unkind men and I am so fucking sick of it.

No more.

I prayed for compassion like my life depended on it.

And then my friend reminded me tonight, that I need compassion for him. And forgiveness.

For him.

And myself.

I thought he was different. Not like all the rest. Bait and switched me, he did.

Thinking of the father of my child courting another woman is a cut so deep, I am not sure what to do with it. How to suture this wound. It’s so strange. It’s not like I want him back. So it is not jealousy. It’s this surreal sense of I was once her. Now I am this. And when I was her, I wrote so much about how I had won the lottery with this one. That I had finally broken the spell of generations. I spoke from a podium to hundreds of sober people about how God had brought this ideal relationship into my life and that he had brought me a man better for me than I ever could have asked for because I would have left something out. But God took care of that. I was in the first healthy functioning relationship of my life. Or so I thought.

Is it humiliation, that I am feeling?

Embarrassment?

Shame.

Vulnerability and shame.

My armor is on. Lashing out won’t fix anything. Warning her. Pithy remarks to him about not being a dick when the shit hits the fan.

Truth is, it would be pretty remarkable if he was suddenly not an avoidant- without doing ANY spiritual work on himself. Just not eating dairy, grains, and sugar won’t fix that. Although he surely thinks it will.

Rejected.

I definitely feel that.

My biggest fears have come true. I was financially broke with a dependent child for at least four days. I know that is not much, and hopefully I have learned a valuable lesson about budgeting, and am so grateful he pays when he is supposed to- but the world did not end. I am abandoned, rejected, and alone and barely making ends meet, but I am okay. I am fine. In fact. I am flourishing on so many levels. I am healing some deep wounds. Ancestral wounds. I am doing the subconscious work that unlocks it all. I know I am. I am growing in leaps and bounds. I am not the woman I was when I ended the marriage. That was the beginning of me. The first step of self- love I may have ever taken in my life.

I asked him to please consult me before he introduces her to Pony. He said he would. I am grateful we can agree on that.

I can’t help but think how if I only had someone- how much help that would be. But Great Spirit is saving me in that area. Damn. The dating sites are so pathetic and disappointing. Men are not attractive. For the most part. Older men especially. I do not know what I am going to do. But meeting someone online is definitely NOT the way this is going to happen.

Hell no.

I am going to go back to bed next to my sleeping daughter now. I hope the demons have been exorcised by writing them all down.  I am finally feeling sleepy. I have redirected my narrative. I can sleep.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s