Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for July, 2011

There is a line in the movie, “Eat, Pray, Love”, about the physics of the journey.  The gist of it is that every part of a journey of faith is important. Every hurt, truth, ache and revelation is there for a purpose, and if one pays attention to them no journey is wasted. You may find the message a little different, that’s because we’re all different.

About two years ago, I threw my life to God. (It’s always been there, I just forgot I wasn’t in charge.) My only prayer; The knowledge of your will and the power to carry it out.  It’s not all that profound, but simple always is remembered when I’m in crisis. I say it when I’m panicked, scared, unsure, late, broken-hearted. Why is a stupid question in the middle of the storm. There is no solution in why something is happening. In that moment why doesn’t matter how is. How do I fix this? How do I get out of this? How will I heal? And ,what’s the next step?

My journey officially started when I found a job so that I could move away from my husband. There is an empowerment to having an income, even a spartan one, so long as I could make it month to month I was fine.

Next? I decided that the house and all of the stuff didn’t mean anything to me. This stuff had no way of taking care of me, and it all had memories I’d rather have forgotten at the time. When I left I was prepared to ask for  nothing in a divorce, except my personal items.  It’s where I was. I’m still there in respect to the stuff. It’s nice to have the stuff, but without the marriage it is of no use to me. My income only affords for a little bitty place. Safe and little bitty rocks!

My eating changed when I started to work, and through no effort on my part I started to lose weight. Cool!  Getting too small for my clothes was a novel experience. So was learning to nurture myself.  The mom takes care of everyone else, right? Well without a healthy mom everyone suffers. I’ve always had pampering rituals, long bubble baths, I learned to do acrylic nails (frugal is a good description for me.)

This last year I added pedicures and I didn’t just give them to myself, gasp, I let someone help.  Pedi/manicures are expensive so they are a treat, all the same it’s part of taking care of me. While I was on my own they were part of my calming ritual. Money was set aside for that particular use, for me.  Every two weeks I had my nails done and once a month my feet. As nurturing goes I found the practice very healing.

Now my hands and feet looked good and my clothes were falling off. Literally. I had no idea if I was going to lose more or not. Off to second-hand stores I went. There are very nice things to be found in those stores. Okay, so there’s lots of crap too. I’m willing to sort through the garbage to come out with a gem or two for .10 cents on the dollar  if I were to buy them new.  There’s no excuse for not feeling good in your clothes. None. I don’t care what size you are or your budget, a little effort goes a long way to feeling better about you. And this most certainly was about me.

It all became about me, it had to. I was too broken for anything else. One friend said I was too skinny. My husband didn’t notice. My daughter was proud of me. My son? Indifferent, as well he should be. smile

For years I’d drive by this building on my way to the Interstate with a sign, CNA classes starting (fill in the blank). It was curious to me that I kept noticing it even after driving by a thousand and one times.  I needed a job I could take care of myself with. Guess what? Certified Nursing Assistants make pretty good wages, not stellar. Good enough for just me.

Some research discovered a way to get the training for no cost. State registration, license, and testing fees were up to me to pay. Classes were no charge. I could afford that!

I got through classes, got hired by the facility which trained me and before I knew it I was working nights and on my own. Earlier posts will verify how terrified I was. Guess what? I can take of myself. I don’t have to worry about every little thing.  My journey brought my husband back into my life. Suddenly faced with the possibility of losing me brought him around in short order.

Grateful, doesn’t begin to explain how I feel about this on going process of reclaiming the marriage and me at the same time.

Major lessons?

I’m the only one who can properly care for me. And it’s nice when someone else helps.

Working has greater rewards than a living. I’ve discovered what I love, what a gift.

Do what I love, just for the love of it.  I’ve the energy for my passions again. Squishing my toes in the mud as I garden brings me joy.  Walking the dog brings me peace. Work gives me a sense of accomplishment. Bargain shopping feeds my ego and brings an impish grin to my face.

With or without him, I’m whole and worthy of a good life.

Find your happiness where and when you can.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Sounds silly, but it’s the truth. I see me, and yet I’m not there yet.  Given my nocturnal work hours, I decided I’d have to do my gardening on my schedule. The neighbors think I’m loopy for sure. My husband has a flood light to work on cars. Take one very long extension cord add light and garden at night. The weeds are still winning the war. I’ve taken some decisive battles though, so I feel good about that.

Being interested in the yard at all is nice. The roses are blooming. They always remind me why I do what I do. Is huffing roses against the law? Grin

My basic, boiled down to the point of brass tacks problem? Lack of trust. Time takes time, as does new history on which new trust is built. It’s hard to invest without blindly trusting. The trust of our marriage was destroyed. Not torn, injured, dented, or scuffed; destroyed. If that weren’t enough the best friend I had here (we’ve lived all over hell’s half-acre) dropped me on my ass when I moved out. Double whammy. Clutching chest, grasping imagined jewel encrusted dagger where it’s lodged in my heart.

My prose was a bit purple that last bit? Okay, we’ll forego any further embellished drama, even though it is ever so much fun to write. Me in a mood? What?

Today I took our daughter to be fitted for her wedding dress. The wedding dress for the occasion I dreaded dealing with if her dad and I were still separated. I really didn’t want this to interfere with her magical day. One source of stress off of my plate.  How did the dress fit? Em, well, ah, it, she’s lost 20 lbs. We were able to trade the one we ordered for one in the store. Fist pump, YES! The fitting went well.   My baby!  She only belongs to him when I’m mad at her. smile

The road to recovery is a long one. Shorter than if we’d divorced, but still a grind. Things were so much simpler when we were young. The sting of love was shorter lived, no less painful, just shorter.

So, I’m glad to be home. Happy to give the neighbors something to talk about. Okay, thrilled with that one. My husband and I continue to work well together. Yip!

On the flip side I’ve got to speak with this friend. I’d rather ignore the entire situation. I really would. The panic in my chest says that’s not going to cut it, so I’ll find a way to suck it up and talk to her. Chances are good nothing will be resolved for us. For me? Once I tell her how I feel I can put it to bed. And this really, really needs to be put away.

Read Full Post »