I made myself one promise back in early August and it was this: You must feel everything.
Under no circumstances would I allow myself to turn back into a stone.
I made this promise to me now and to my 18 year old self.
I don’t read articles on how to get through a divorce. I simply wade through enormous trauma while the world goes on all around me.
What does divorce feel like, you might wonder? It feels like BOTH. I really hate both. I don’t like how the word sounds or writing it, and I really don’t like feeling it.
Now you might be imagining what I mean by both. Well, you’re in luck because I’ve got too many examples.
Both comes up when my best friend visits me for the weekend and in her presence I feel strong enough to know that I can get through this, but then when I see her bags packed next to my front doorway before her flight home I become needy and vulnerable and fall apart instantly. It feels like I can’t have nice things because I will just ruin them when they come to an end by crying uncontrollably.
Both arrives when I’m making bold and confident professional decisions in the face of inequity, standing up for myself, telling people what I need and deserve while I am also quietly so unsure of myself and questioning if I am making the right choices.
Both kicks my ass when I think about my future because I’m excited that I’ve finally landed on the path that was meant for me this entire time. I have lofty goals and passion and so many ideas and yet I also fall on the carpet crying at night because the present is so dark and murky.
Both finds me when I’m finally able to have some alone time without my kids. I love being alone and often prefer it. Being alone used to make me happy when I’d take a break from being a mom to go for a solo run, but now I’m plagued by the silence when they aren’t here. I used to like quiet, but now I can’t be in my home alone ever without music blasting. The thrill of alone time is gone because I’m too tired to enjoy it and being awake often feels like torture because I am so exhausted.
Both reminds me that I am dead and alive. I’m a zombie for having not slept for countless weeks. I’m also feeling things I haven’t felt for a long time. There are moments during the day when I really do feel alive.
Both forces me to help my kids feel stable while I silently fall apart.
Both is my friend and enemy, guiding me toward a place where I’m healthy and me again, but not cutting me any slack in the meantime.
What a FANTATIC description! While I’ve never been though a divorce, there have been moments in my life that definitely punctuated the usual equilibrium. It’s so smart of you to record what it feels like, so that you’ll remember this time when your equilibrium is restored–and better understand where you will be when you’re there. Well done!
Oh the both. I didn’t know what to call it but I’ve been sitting in the both for over a year now. It’s so impossible but here I sit being pulled, torn, exposed so scared and unsure. That way? Or this way? I think my both is a bit different but definitely a both. I don’t know how to find that middle ground without denying a piece of myself, something that I promised myself I wouldn’t do again but SLAM!! In my face flies an impossible situation where to acknowledge my both or find a middle feels impossible. Oh the Both.