Archive | April, 2010

Forgive but do not forget

29 Apr

The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.  ~ Thomas Szasz

 

Not last night, but the night before that was a god-awful, heart wrenching, soul searching, innards-evicerating night. I finally said – out loud to another person – what I’m thinking about love, life and my rocky relationship with God. 

2009 was a shitty year.  My marriage exploded leaving me reeling and searching for an identity – any identity – to wear as a skin against the world.  Just as a felt like I was starting to reclaim myself, 2010 hit me in January with news that I haven’t quite recovered from.  I’m not at a place yet where I feel comfortable putting out there what the news was but suffice to say that it has sent me back to square one. 

Which is part of why I’m in therapy.

The other part of why I’m in therapy is actually multiple parts but they are inseparable – eating disorder, self-esteem, self-preservation, emotional and physical abuse.  At this point I am unable to parse them all out individually…but it’s this giant pool of depression and hate and sadness that pulls me in especially when stress escalates.

The thought process of if I was pretty enough, thin enough, then he wouldn’t hit me, he wouldn’t say those things.  When I get sick, the ache and the pain in my stomach goes away and I feel lighter – not as weighed down.  If I skip a meal, I demonstrate that I have more will power and strength.

So I will not forget who I was dating when this started.  I will not forget the scars that I have (physically and mentally) from this man. 

I will work on forgiving myself. 

With all of that though, I have questions and with that means that I question my faith.  If God is a kind and benevolent God, why did he let me get this broken?  Why do I hurt so badly inside?  Why has he given me this challenge of the eating disorder and assorted other issues?  Why did he put my ex-husband in my life?  What have I done in my life that he is punishing me for?

Will I ever be good enough?

One Year

25 Apr

Today is one year since I left my husband.  Since I walked out and said ‘goodbye’ to everything that was ‘normal’ in my life.  One year since I looked in the mirror and decided that the unknown was better than what I have at home.

And what a bitch of a year it’s been.

I feel lonely.  Sad.  NOT remorseful just wishing that I’d done a better job of picking the right guy the first time around.

I have proven that I can start all over.  That I can stand on my own two feet – with the help of my family and friends.  I can work and make it and stretch a dollar when money gets so tight I’m counting quarters to see if I can get breakfast out of the vending machine or if that’s going to have to wait for lunch.

I took on a nasty and mean divorce and came out.  Not unscathed, not in one piece, but I came out.

I dated – I made some choices that I really regret (i.e. the guy that dumped me by text message) and I realized that I am definitely NOT ready to date.

I have dealt (and am currently dealing) with a vicious resurgence of my eating disorder.  I have restarted therapy.

I am broken.  In pieces and not exactly sure what the picture on the box looks like when you put all the pieces back together.

So…one year.  One wretchedly long, hard, impossible and soul crushing year.

And I spent it on the ambulance.  Exactly what I did last year.  And somehow the City knew what I needed then and what I needed now.  To stay busy and to reach out and help someone else.  This extension of self so that I didn’t (don’t) spend all day thinking about what was, what should have been, what wasn’t  and how I don’t think it’ll ever be.

So I ran my ass off.  It was hot and sweaty and still – I was busy, loved for being me by my partners and my squad.

All I want to be is to be loved for me.  Not for who I could be but who I am today.  Flaws, failures and all. I didn’t have it a year ago.  I don’t know that I’ll have it a year from now.  But I know that I have two dogs that worship me and flip out when I come home.  I have a family that supports me – even if they don’t fully understand me or where I’m coming from.  And I have two best friends that will drop everything to tell me that I am perfect just being me.

What a year.