Welcome to my dwelling-place of the last 10 months. So often, I feel so "out of it"; like my shirt is on backward and my shoes are 2 sizes too small...and on the wrong feet. I'm speaking metaphorically of course.
My divorce will be final very soon and, with the marriage goes my identity. I didn't realize that I had become a different person whose survival depended upon being someones wife. Gross. The "old me" would be chasing me down a dark alley with a tube sock full of nickels for having expressed that. It's true all the same.
I didn't realize that I stopped being me. People told me that I stopped being me. Some of those people ended up pushing me away. Some of them just threw me away. It hurts. I don't quite understand it. But I don't blame them.
I wish I'd have known that I "died". I would have sent flowers, because I kinda liked me. I was funny. I was interesting. I wasn't nearly as fearful or angry or judgmental as I am now. A lot of the time, I am just as shocked by the intolerant and rude things that I say as the rest of you are. When did I become that; and why?
I have noticed that my kids are becoming very pushy and impatient. They yell a lot. they criticize. They learned that from me. I am breaking my kids and I am stealing their joy before they get it.
"Pray!", you say! "Read your Scriptures!", you suggest. "Talk to someone about this RIGHT NOW!", you command.
Well #1. I am. #2. I am. #3.Jump up your own butt.
I realize that we are allowed to have trials to learn from. I know that most likely, I am being shown who I AM NOT so that I can have a firm grasp on who I AM. I get it. I hate it.
I am so exhausted from trying different books of Scripture, praying in different ways, forcing myself to eat fish, trying to figure out if I can wear high heels all day long, exercising regularly, trying on fake eyelashes, doing every bit of volunteer work I can, following the Prophet, teaching my children, being kind to my ex, trying to learn a new language, forcing myself to keep my house cleaner than I want to, not letting my car get under 1/2 a tank, vacuuming dog hair off of the furniture and trying to eat more fruit. I am SO damn scared of who I might really be that I am trying to make myself be someone that I think I should be. I don't know that it's going well, and I don't know what to do about it.
Add to this the fact that I always hurt and am unwell (you knew I'd start complaining about this sooner or later.), and I feel like I can't survive much longer. I don't think I have depression, I think it has me...in it's mouth and it's chewing on me with a vengeance. Today I drove down the road eating baked fudge from a styrofoam container. There was no cutlery involved. And I was crying. It's sad, really.
Remember that super annoying Talking Heads song? Remember those stupid lines?
"You may ask yourself, what is that beautiful house?
You may ask yourself, where does that highway lead to?
You may ask yourself, am I right, am I wrong?
You may say to yourself, my god, what have I done?"
That is SO where I am. I hate that band and I freaking hate that song. It's a dumb song and I resent the fact that it perfectly represents my life right now. What a slap in the face.
Look, I know that life is good. I know that I'm loved. I know that there are many wonderful things that make up Daph. I get it. I'm not ungrateful.
I am tired. I am sad. I don't understand how you can do your very best and have everything go so very wrong.
I completely understand that this big long rant of my most personal thoughts only proves that I am just like everyone else.
Daph, I relate to this post so much. I've been there, and it really sucks! Hang in there Sister!
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