Monday, August 17, 2015

Torn: A look at Separation

Nobody told me divorce or separation would rend me in two. It would shake me to my core and expose my every fear, every anxiety, every wound, past and present. I would literally die a little. And continue to die a little for years to come. There is the before me, the one who knew what the future held, confident and self assured. I had my goals I attained and goals for my future. Then there is the after me, lost, confused, doubting, and grieving. Everything I thought I knew…gone.  Tiny deaths occur as I navigate each loss. My identity as partner, the future I had planned, my innocence, all die, slowly and painfully.
No one told me how much it will hurt to wrench myself from an entanglement it took so many years to build. Even when there is no blame, no wrong doer, I still cast about for a reason why. Sometimes there is no reason why, there is just growing apart. This should make it easier…but it doesn’t.
This is an all out assault on who I thought I was what I thought I wanted, where I thought I was going. Make no mistake, this is heart wrenching, anxiety inducing, and painful. I spend entire days in bouts of uncontrollable tears, and fits of rage, and night after night of sleeplessness and nightmares. Some days I don’t know how I will get through; on others acceptance and growth begin to seep in. And slowly life moves forward.
No one told me only a few of my friends and family will understand, support and listen. The rest will turn away, as if my pain was contagious. I see the judgment in their eyes, and while it hurts a little I still understand my tiny deaths are just too much for them. I become skittish of love and find it difficult to trust, I want to run and hide and never rely on anyone again.
Some days I'm just fine, but triggers wait right around the corner to pounce when I least expect them. Places, things, and conversations, once benign, become ugly reminders of my hurt and anger. They are lurking there to turn a good day into a bad one. A gift from my old love is now a symbol of broken promises.
But still I go on. And slowly but surely the new me begins to appear. I start to build a new future, quietly and discretely in my head, taking small steps. I begin to embrace the change. The days of anger and grief become farther apart. The new me is a little sad and a little jaded, knowing life is trickster, but now I have grown.

The new me is learning to trust again, mostly in myself. The new me wants love again and knows it’s worth the risk. The new Me knows the challenges and knows the pain, and knows the rewards. And even though  I have been rent in two, and shaken to my core, I know that love is worth every bit of it. Even if that love is just a shadow of what I thought love was. And so I go on. One foot in front of the other, and slowly the future begins to look bright again. 

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