Alcohol. Drugs. Sex. Food. Exercise. Religion. Work. Play. Cutting. Music. Therapy. Travel.
All things that you can use to numb the pain of a broken heart. I don’t blame anyone for doing any or all of these. Ever.
I get it. You just want to escape the awful feeling of drowning in the dark, and whatever it takes to do that is fair game. That’s my life right now.
I will literally do anything to not feel my heart ripping to shreds. I don’t care how destructive or detrimental or consequential it could be. I just need the hurt to stop. Now.
When my husband left in November, I literally was on a plane to Europe by myself the next day. I immersed myself in another continent, trying to soak up everything that could fill the emptiness he left in my soul. I drank more than I ever have, woke up in places I’ve never seen before, and embraced anything that could give me even a moment of relief. And some of it did. Temporary or not, if I could take one breath without feeling like I was going to die, I considered that a win. I met incredible people and had once in a lifetime experiences. But none of them took the deep ocean of pain away from me for more than a few moments. They did however, give me some hope. That there would be a day that I would be okay again. That if I could survive running around Europe completely by myself, then I could survive a broken heart.
At first, I was so angry it didn’t even hurt. Being mad as hell kept me from feeling much else. But that was pretty short lived. Believe me, I’m still mad. Mad I got used. Mad that I chose to spend my life with someone who thinks that walking out every time he isn’t getting exactly what he wants is ok. Mad that I wasted so much time supporting him and encouraging him and helping him follow his dreams only for him to bail the second he got where he wanted to be. Mad that I gave up a perfectly wonderful single existence to fall completely in love with someone who obviously never felt the same. Mad that my husband is so damaged by his own narcissistic, selfish, controlling “women are meant to be used and thrown away” father that he will never be able to stand on his own two feet. I’m pissed.
But my heart is also broken into a thousand pieces. Shattered. In ways I didn’t know were possible because I’ve never loved someone so completely, and committed so entirely to them. I fought for my marriage. I meant it when I said “Every tomorrow I have is yours”. I didn’t just sign up for “until it stops being fun every second”. So I guess the total devastation comes from knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do to fix something that is broken because the other person literally dropped it and walked away. I can’t will it better. I can’t put more effort into it and work it out. I can’t do shit.
He left. The end.
So all I can do is find ways to make it hurt a little less. To make it through every day and every torturous night until I somehow come out on the other side of this and can breathe again. I just have to hang in there for a while, and let my heart start to heal and begin to listen to my head instead. I know I won’t always feel like this. But until it starts to subside, I will continue to do anything and everything it takes to take the edge off. You can judge me for that all you want. I don’t care. Because I didn’t ask for this, I don’t want this. And this is the best I can do for now.