Monday, August 22, 2016

The First 5 Weeks

When I went through my infertility, I kept most of it bottled up. Over the years, I learned there are so many that have the same struggles. But when we all keep silent, its easy to feel alone. As I face my upcoming divorce, again, I feel so alone. So I've decided to speak out more openly, in hopes of helping others who are in the same situation.

I do my best to keep on a happy face, but there are days I feel like I am dying inside. Not as much now, but those first few weeks were hell. Each morning I would wake up and wish that I had quit breathing during the night. Days would pass, and I would have no idea of what I had eaten or if I had done anything.

The first week, I got pulled over for running a stop sign. I drive that road several times a week, but all I could think that night was how I didn't want to go home to my empty home. When the officer asked if I was distracted, I broke down into tears. A few days later, I left the stove top on and melted a spatula in my favorite pan. I really felt like I was loosing my mind.

I lost 25 pounds within the first 4 weeks. The big term right now is to say you are releasing your fat, but honestly, I don't even know where those pounds went. I just know I woke up one day and my pants no longer fit. I'd go days living on just coffee and protein shakes. Even now, 5 weeks later, I've only cooked an actual meal 3 times. I usually end up eating out with friends once or twice a week, but even then, I have to make myself eat. I simply have no appetite anymore. Nothing appeals to me. My stomach has drastically shrunk to I will only about a quarter of what I used to before I fill full.

I'm strong enough to realize I can't continue on like this. Life goes on, whether you want it to or not. So I have done my best to do the same. When we lost our baby, it took me months to realize I needed to seek help. I did not want to make that mistake this time. Within weeks, I was in counseling. It has helped me immensely. Seeking help doesn't make you weak. It okay to admit you can't do it alone and that you need help.

I could go on and on about my amazing friends. I can't even count the number of shoulders I have cried on as they have helped me figure things out. Or the number of dinners I have crashed. Seriously, you guys have kept me alive.

By far, reclaiming my home as mine has been the best way to heal. I loved being a wife. I loved finding way to incorporate our love and lifestyles into one. My home was full of western decor and loving sayings. So when he left, it hurt to look at all those items. I quickly boxed them up, but then my home felt so empty.

My home. We talked about that at my last counseling appointment. Out of habit, I continue to use terms like "ours", but those no longer apply. So I'm working on using "mine". I love my home and what it is becoming. Each time I add a new decoration, or reorganize a room, it feels more and more like my home.

Friday was very bitter sweet. After 5 weeks, we finally set up a time for him to come remove his possessions. I actually had most of it already boxed up and ready to go because looking at it hurt too much. But there were still the bigger items scattered throughout the house. I knew I couldn't fully move on until those items were gone. But I also knew that once they were gone, everything would feel more final. That was another thing we talked about in counseling last week. With his stuff still there, it left the impression he could come back. But I'm not willing to be a back up plan, so it was time for it to be gone.

I think the hardest part was seeing his dad. It made me realize how much I miss his family. They were my family for 15 years. It was good to see him, and I wish we could have visited more. I hope I can find a way to keep in contact with his family when the dust has settled. (I should have listed in the divorce that I got them every other holiday.)

After they left, I sat and cried. I keep telling myself he's not worth the tears. But still, my heart breaks over all of this. Until papers were signed, I asked him to work things out. I've quickly learned it takes two people to make a marriage work, but only one to end it. I can fight this all I want, but if he isn't willing, there is nothing I can do.

After I shed my tears, I decided to organize my spare room. I didn't get far before exhaustion set in. I have spent weeks crying, stressing over paperwork and stressing over the removal of his items, that I just couldn't think beyond those points. But with it all gone, my body was ready to just sleep.

I worked in my spare room again on Saturday. I was doing fine, until I found old anniversary cards and old journals. Then I just lost it again. I still don't understand how someone can just walk away like that.

Yesterday, at church, I spent the service praying for him. Not for him to come back, but for his heart and soul. Watching him change into a bitter, angry man who is a shell of the man I loved has been the worst. I look at him and wonder what happened to the man I knew and loved.

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