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.
No comments:
Post a Comment