OK. It’s been a long time. A long, long, long, long time.
Much has occurred. I have passed the one-year anniversary of ‘having left’. I am divorced. I have moved twice. I am in the process of leaving my job. I am, in many ways, a completely different person now than a year ago.
Blogging has been not-terribly-important to me. But periodically the urge strikes. I’ve fought back that urge because I wasn’t sure I wanted to bother with it, or have people actually (occasionally) share my innermost thoughts. For a while, I wanted to hide away. I also didn’t want to share what was an experience that affected someone else I cared deeply about (and still do) and did not want to harm. Tonight, I suddenly feel like opening back up a bit. I haven’t the slightest idea if anyone is still out there listening. But that’s alright.
Divorce is an ugly word for something that isn’t nearly as ugly as an unhappy marriage. I was married, buried, for almost ten years – ‘with someone’ for nearly 13. When I physically walked out the door, it was nine years and twelve, to be precise, but by the time the dissolution was finalized, it was 10 & 13. The beautiful and hellacious irony: my divorce was final the day before my wedding anniversary. God laughs. And heartily.
I’ve come to understand some things in this past year. There are no accidents or coincidences on a spiritual path. If you seek lessons in the events that occur, you will begin to recognize when ’something just happened’ is actually an answer to a prayer … but in a form unexpected.
The day my divorce became final and the day after (the 10th Anniversary), I had made arrangements. I had put effort into control the time spent alone. I had taken two days off work (they were a Thursday & Friday, so I had a long weekend ahead of me), and had arranged for friends to be available so I wouldn’t feel deserted. Well, of course, with this great concern at the front of my mind, with this great FEAR at the front of my mind, with this horrific BELIEF at the front of my mind (“I’m alone, nobody loves me, nobody cares, no one will ever care about me again … “), naturally the friends flaked (unusual behavior, too) and I was alone for three days. All alone. This belief of mine, this fear of mine, that being alone is the worst thing in the world … was what I faced that entire time. I got a houseful of alone. Ask, and receive it, my friends. That was the turning point, ultimately. 10 months of nervous breakdown meets 38 years of programming. First, I realized I’d gotten exactly what I asked for (alone, no one cares, no one loves) – the universe gives us what we need to see. Then, I realized my friends did exactly what they were supposed to do, in order to help me. They didn’t choose to drop me, they were compelled to drop me so I could be alone. The universe conspired to hand me exactly, exactly what I most feared – so I could see it wasn’t quite so bad. Yes, I cried, I hurt, I felt alone and lonely – but I didn’t die, I didn’t collapse, I didn’t implode. Yes, I felt like shit, but no I didn’t beg for death. So, I saw it, I felt it, I had it, and then it was done. When I realized there was nothing to forgive (hey, my friends weren’t consciously blowing me off, stuff just ‘happened’, and they weren’t available as promised – yeah, that’s the universe setting things in motion), then I was free to recognize just how much they’d done to help me. And I loved them for it. The final thing I ‘got’, was that as soon as I released control of what was ’supposed’ to happen, my heart lifted. I have no control. None of us has.
