I didn’t understand then, I don’t understand now. 

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“I didn’t understand then, I don’t understand now,” an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.

I know I don’t post as frequently lately, and I don’t particularly like posting anything negative, but yesterday was oddly inspiring of that emotion and I simply cannot help it; my blood was boiled to a ridiculous temperature and I’m still on the cooling rack.

Negativity is a feeling that sends me even more over the edge because I work as hard as I can to be mindful of what kind of energy I’m expending and allowing to seep out in to my world.

I marvel daily at what turns my life has taken in less than 365 days. I am often reminded that I am strong willed, blessed with a strong mind and an open heart. These things, however, do not eliminate the pain that I feel, and I feel it for at least one second of every day; I probably will for the rest of my life, if anything, as a reminder. I think about how different things are for me now as soon as I wake up and right before I go to bed at night. I mostly open and close my eyes in appreciation for having so much love and support in my life, to be able to have survived this situation, but sometimes…it’s just not that way.

Yesterday, I wanted to punch the next tall, dark and handsome man I saw, squarely in the throat. I’ve mellowed after a few hours of sleep, though the thought still sounds pleasing, especially if his name is Mark.

Though I don’t think this divorce will cloud my life for eternity, days like yesterday come along and remind me why it is that I made my decision, why I stuck to my guns, why I took my life and my happiness in my own hands and made the biggest, scariest change a married woman in her mid-twenties can possibly make: to leave. I am proud of the decision I made only a few short months ago; I had the guts to do what some people only dream of doing. Was it hard? It’s still hard. There are days I can barely wrap my head around the fact that three blonde twenty-somethings packed my entire closet into my little car in twenty minutes, that I walked in to an amazing job (followed by another) and that I have a great roommate and unbelievable support from EVERY single person in my life. I am told regularly by these people that they are so relieved and happy to see me rid of a situation that was only going to get worse. But you know what? There are days, like yesterday, that I’m just like…what. the. fuck? What was I thinking? Why did I get married in the first place? Why did I mess up my life like this? Where was my head? My mind? My rationale?

I keep myself up at night thinking about what I could have accomplished in the four years that feel wasted now. I know that’s a really defeatist way of looking at things, but sometimes we have to allow ourselves to look through that lens to get a better perspective.

I couldn’t see the writing on the wall because he was standing in front of me. It’s not a lie that love can blind you. When he’d finally realized that marriage was hard work was when I started to see it. He not only stepped aside, but away from me entirely, though never completely leaving my life. It was heartbreaking; I could feel myself struggling to run after him and away from him simultaneously. I didn’t know where to go or what to think or how to feel – sometimes, I still don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. I am overwhelmed with anger and questions that I can’t answer. I’m angry because my, “plan,” has been derailed and I’ve had to to start from scratch, while his life has carried on just as it did, as though I never existed. Before him, I’d never had a real plan or direction in my life until we got married and I was so happy that my life was taking shape. I was in love and happy. The prospect of not only sharing but experiencing life with someone else was so exciting to me – sometimes, it still is even though I don’t believe I will ever say, “I do,” again.

I obviously realize now that it’s okay, that the best thing for me to do in that situation was take a stand for myself and walk away, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. When people ask how I’m doing/dealing with it, I half-smile and say with complete certainty that it was the most positive change I could have made for either of us, and I stand by that. I don’t believe that he sees it that way yet, but I wouldn’t know. He refuses to talk to me, which swells my anger because at this point, what harm would a conversation do? The relationship was over long before our marriage was – we both knew it but let it hang stagnant in the air because we weren’t equipped enough to know what to do. That knowledge wasn’t there, though the solution to our problem was evident.

I will never have closure on the situation and I’m having to make peace with that demon.

What troubles me most now is that I just don’t know how I’m going to move forward with anyone else. There is an extreme amount of bitter on my palette now, a flavor I usually enjoy, but not when it comes in this fashion. The prospect of dating someone is fun, lighthearted and totally…intimidating. The mere thought of marrying again astounds me – how could I trust another person with my life again? I gave that man every thing, all of me. Every thought, every notion, every single second of every single day…I committed mentally, physically and emotionally to him for forever. How can I trust another person not to do the same thing? To not neglect our relationship? To completely let our relationship – friendship included – dissolve right before our eyes without even so much as a goodbye. How am I going to get over that?

As I said in the beginning, with borrowed words, I didn’t understand then, I don’t understand now.

the light bulb is going to go off. 

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I look at the empty space in my room where my mat used to lay. the carpet there still holds its shadowed outline, but only because I haven’t taken the time to vacuum in here. It’s been too long since I’ve had a private practice; I really need to check in. 

My diet has been better, though my cheat days have become more frequent and I feel even more shame for them because I know what those sugary, fatty ingredients are doing to my body. I need to find consistency. 

I’m not quite sure why, but since my cleanse, I’ve been super introverted. I can’t imagine that my fits with insomnia have helped – I’ve tried to grip sleep and sanity during the week because of my awesome new job, but those luxuries escape me once the weekend arrives. I didn’t even realize it’s been nearly a month since I’ve written, which is completely abnormal for me. This thing is pretty much my diary, I have no idea where my thoughts have been going. 

I don’t particularly see anything wrong with flowing in between states of social or anti, but I took it to the extreme by nearly – okay, let’s call it avoiding – going anywhere, seeing anyone. Though I may claim to be equal parts introvert/extrovert, I teeter  on either extreme on any given day. 

I’m not sure why I’ve been reclusive, I’m still working that out. that’s as honest as I can get about it without really breaking shit down here, and I haven’t had coffee yet. I can feel the light bulb about to go off….or may burst. 

during my period of introversion, I began writing a new book – a story completely separate from The Anchor and The Bridge, though I am still actively pursuing representation for my first novel. I also got hooked on Breaking Bad, which I finally finished and DAMN. If that isn’t exemplary of stellar writing, acting and production, I’ve obviously never seen it. 

I want to have breakfast with Bryan Cranston. His voice makes me so thirsty for coffee I doubt I’d even have to drink any to feel satisfied. 

This story, the new one, is next-level different from the fluffy southern love story that is The Anchor, this book – the one that had a working title, then a different one, and now none – may just be that book for me. There’s a certain magic it to it when I’m writing. I set the story in New Orleans so I could recount so many specific moments and memories, and that really fares well for the kind of story this will end up being. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I feel the same way about my first ever book, but this is unique in the sense that I am an inexperienced science fiction reader writing semi-young adult sci-fi. Challenge was self-inflicted and accepted. 
For a time now, and I’m not sure where I heard it, but I’ve abided largely by the idea that, “you must relinquish control to gain it.” I haven’t always been clear on what that means exactly. do we just completely let go and assume that the universe is going to do right by us if we play by her rules? Or does this mean, after a summer of sitting hidden, that it’s time to emerge from crisp grey sheets and say, “Hold up, I’m here. I’ve got this!” 

I’m going to assume that that’s the direction I’m supposed to take. 

This is me, starting today, assuming control of every minute of every day of my life. I’m going to get up and greet the day with gratitude and immediately celebrate on my mat. I’m going to nourish my body with water and whole foods; really show gratitude for a body that works so hard to serve me. Working tirelessly at my new job will be easy, but I’m going to give it an extra 110% because I’m capable of that. I’m making the promise here and now to not rush the writing of this new book…new beginnings deserve nurturing. 

The above sounds like a pretty decent list of things for me to do while I wait for the light bulb to go off.