divorce

From Pinterest to Promise

Z. looking ahead, MS, multiple sclerosis , , , , , , ,

Recently I was approached by the group facilitator of our church’s Divorce Care support group. She asked me to speak about some of the proactive steps I had taken over the years.  It’s hard to believe three years ago I went to my first Divorce Care meeting and once it was over I promptly handed back the workbook and told the facilitator that this wasn’t for me, that I wasn’t ready.  Five months or so later, I went again and it was the start of exactly what I needed for my recovery.  Being in a community of folks that had gone or were going through what I was going through helped. I firmly believe we are not meant to do life alone. The notion of self-reliance and self-sufficiency is so misconstrued and misinterpreted. We need each other.

With the group, I shared that one of the things I did during the craziness was to spend time searching through Pinterest.  My sole (soul) purpose was searching for words of encouragement, something in which I could believe.  I found some good ones – some that I still to this day recall and either sigh or smile when I read them. However, it struck me that while these words of encouragement existed, they weren’t alive.  I don’t know that I can pinpoint exactly when I started to seek out the promises of God in my Bible but I know that as I searched for words of encouragement I found them. Eventually, I compiled a handful and I  would stand in front of my bathroom mirror and say, “Cast all your cares upon the Lord for He cares for you (Psalm 55:22). You are clothed with strength and dignity and laugh without fear of the future (Proverbs 31:25). That the Lord is your shepherd; you shall not want (Psalm 23:1).” After awhile, I began to internalize them and began to really believe them. “Cast all my cares upon God, for He cares for me. I am clothed with strength and dignity and I laugh without fear of my future. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”  Most recently, I used these promises to remind myself that He knows the plans He has for me (Jeremiah 29:11). So while the diagnosis of MS (let’s be real and include everything: foreclosure, bankruptcy, losing everything in Arizona, infidelity, divorce, suicide, and sickness) took me by surprise, it didn’t catch my God off guard.

Today, I got an email letting me know that a woman I fully respect and honor has received a diagnosis of cancer.  I don’t love hearing this – in fact, I hate hearing this. But C is a remarkable woman who finds peace in the midst of every situation because she is confident that God was not surprised by the phone call she received.  C doesn’t need Pinterest to carry her through this next stage in her life, but some of us that love her might – I still struggle this side of life in understanding why we are asked to walk the path we are given.  Have I gone through my own health battles to remind her and others that there is hope? Am I here to remind her that it never occurs to any of us that one day we’d wake up sick and never get better? Will I still turn to Pinterest to find words of encouragement to grace the cards I will send reminding her that she is loved?   Probably.

But I will also search for promises in my Bible because I know that is the life that is needed right now.  And I am reminded that it’s my responsibility in this “tribe” of life that I am meant to offer encouragement, and support, and to not let her feel like she needs to be anything other than selfish about her own self-care right now.  Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God (2Corinthians 1:3-4).

So to C, and CM, and AS: I’m rooting for each of you and the challenges that life has brought to your doorstep. You’re not alone.

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A Choice to Be…

Z. looking ahead, new start , , , , , ,

I recently shared with my therapist that I wished I had a photo of myself from my first session with her so that I could compare it with myself now. I know that I did not get here overnight and I certainly didn’t get here without a lot of help and support. I also don’t want to sell myself short… I’ve worked hard, really hard.  I spent many a night pouring out my soul in blog posts. My mind alone raced more than a marathon runner.

I still have bad days. Sometimes, really bad days – days where I still feel an incredible emptiness inside. There are still sleepless nights and sometimes nightmares. At my last acupuncture appointment I said, “I’m really having a hard time right now, and I’m counting on you and everyone else to keep me together.” I’m not quite sure what I wanted him to do, but I relished in the fact that I could say out loud that I needed help; something that for so many years I held in confidence due to pride.   You should know that both my acupuncturist and my massage therapist play jedi-mind tricks –they seem to know where and when I’m hurting, both physically and emotionally, and it always makes me laugh when they ask a question that I’m sure they already know the answer to.

After my most recent post people asked questions about what I had done or was doing. So much of it now is a part of who I am that it’s hard for me to remember all the subtle changes over time. Hence me wishing that I had that picture of the first day “on the couch.”  After some searching I was able to find a photo of myself from August 2014. It was a staff photo, so it was one in which I made a conscience effort to do my makeup, hair, and wardrobe. And on my birthday, I had snapped a selfie of myself – August 2017.  I was able to place them side by side and see just how much had changed in three years.

Putting the weight-loss aside, there is something different about my eyes, my skin-tone, my smile. In the former, I looked sickly and pale and if anyone cared to look in my eyes, they would have seen right to my soul.  And when I looked at my birthday picture… of me… on my 47th (!)  birthday, there is light in my eyes and color in my cheeks, and my smile seems brighter.  Yes, bad days still happen, but man, there are so many more good days now.

It was just one simple thing – one choice that started it all. And over time, that one simple thing has changed and evolved. What once started as just remembering to exhale, to not concentrate on replaying the events with M, or trying to define what happened, is now choosing to make sure I have a healthful diet, choosing to be truly thankful and grateful for this life I have been given, and to unashamedly accept a face full of doggy kisses upon demand.

So I guess I would ask those of you that asked me what I am doing…. “what are YOU willing to do for you?”  Just start with one choice– make it real, make it your own.  Sometimes, it’s just enough to get out of bed and call that success. Or it might be remembering that what you eat in secret, you wear in public- so choose to make a better food choice. It might be embracing what my pastor’s wife taught me all those years ago, No Thank You is a complete sentence. It might be capturing that negative thought and choosing to give it to the Lord. And it might be just remembering to take your vitamins.

What do I do?  I work at it and I remember that it didn’t happen overnight.  I make a million little choices each day. I choose to remember what C reminded me, that I am worth it. But on the bigger scale, I choose to still faithfully take my Juice Plus, I choose to speak life to myself each morning, I choose to treat myself kindly with services that help my overall well-being, and I choose to remember that one day I just might wake up with only the things I thanked God for yesterday… and for that reason, I’m always thankful for those in my life that have carried me this far.

What a Difference A(nother) Year Makes

Z. looking ahead, MS, new life, new start , , , , ,

 I realize I could start by apologizing for not writing but who would I be apologizing to? Myself? Maybe? But then I would remind myself that this year has been one of no apologies, and no excuses.

Three years ago, my husband of eleven years was telling me that he had an affair, that he didn’t love me and that he didn’t care to reconcile or even consider our marriage. Two years ago, I was counting every single day -still trying to accept what had happened. One year ago, the stress of all that I had gone through for so long took its toll on me physically and I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.   August 1 will come again and like cobwebs, his last words still cling to me. Even though M has been gone for almost 3 years, I still feel tangled in his lies. I make no apologies for feeling this way. I own my own inadequacies, I also embrace them. I have been able to move on and move forward and I have new dates that hold special memories for me now.

Over the past year, I have spent more money than I should admit to on concert tickets. After M left, one of the first things I did was go to see Ed Sheeran in concert. In Atlanta. Alone. And it hasn’t stopped since. Just this past year I’ve seen Matisyahu, The Steel Wheels, The Swinging Medallions, Mercy Me, The Air Force’s Airmen of Note, Apollo’s Fire, The Sensational Sounds of Motown w/ Mr. Motown himself, New Kids on the Block – even got to touch Joey McIntyre (squeal), Paula Abdul, Boys II Men, and before the year is over, I’ll see Crowder, Ed Sheeran, see Jonathon Byrd perform at a local coffee shop  and spend Christmas with the Oak Ridge Boys.

I helped pick our city’s best taco. I rode in an Uber that had eyelashes over its headlights. I took time off to attend our local TEDx talks. I enrolled in a leadership course at work, which opened my eyes to my own failings but also to strengths I didn’t realize I possessed. I took computer design courses and I’m embracing my newly created job position.

I still, unapologetically, get monthly massages, regular pedicures, manicures, acupuncture, and reflexology treatments. I remind my co-workers and anyone else that will listen, that self-care is too often neglected and that we all need to be kinder to ourselves. I, the most unlikely person for this task, led a team of 10 for six weeks on a fitness/wellness challenge where we placed #20 out of over 200 teams. I have maintained my plant-based nutrition program with just a couple of days where I could have made better choices, and did so the next time around. I’ve lost 65 pounds, which means that shopping for clothes has been more fun and I’ve got a closet full of new clothes. I met with the neurologist for my twelve month check-up and his comment to me was “If I didn’t know you had MS, I wouldn’t have any clue now” and he is starting to come around to my desire to manage my symptoms with nutrition and self-care even suggesting I look into the new research involving biotin. I went through my storage unit, yes, “the” storage unit. I opened every box and tossed, donated, sold, and sorted everything left from a life that was no longer. And I survived, much better than I expected I would, and it feels good. I still go to “Mental Yoga” and again, I tell everyone I know that we all need professional help sometimes.

I’ve been “published.” A local art council accepted a poem I had written not long after M had passed, and they hung it on the wall for the public to see –I was raw, and exposed, and liberated all at the same time. I joined a newly formed poetry group and am serving as their inaugural president.  I started taking ballroom dance lessons after telling myself that if I’m going to start dating again, I need to know how to dance like a lady and not be “dropping it like it’s hot” anymore. I’ve got to leave a little something for my future husband to look forward to. Yup, that’s a new one too. I’ve decided that there is still so much more within me, so much more love I can share and I do want to get married again. I’m not going to lie; dating is different than when I was last out there. But I know what I bring to the table, I’m not afraid to be by myself and if a guy can keep up with all that I’ve got going on, I hope he introduces himself.

I’ve also attended too many memorials and funerals and have said goodbye to friends who left this earth way too soon. And I’ve said goodbye to a couple of friendships. Life isn’t fair, period.

But I will rise up each morning because although life isn’t fair, the fight within me is far from gone. I’ve learned that to heal your body, you have to heal your mind, and to heal your mind, you have to heal your spirit, and to heal your spirit, you need Jesus.  Just because M is gone doesn’t mean he’s not “here.” I accept that he will always be a part of my life, even if it’s just a momentary look back every August 1.

And I know without a doubt that one thing is for certain. I now live in the present, embracing life for what it is at this very second, because I want to live as if this isn’t just a moment, but rather a memory.

Webster has no words

Z. looking ahead, new life, new start , , , ,

I hate the thought of labels, but secretly I crave the definition just for some sort of inkling as to who I am now.

Since the word vomit incident, I’ve been back to see my therapist. I shared with her what happened and she said what I already knew – maybe there are still some unresolved items. Maybe she’s right.

Some things in life are easy to define; but consider infidelity, divorce, and then suicide all in a matter of just four months and who knows what to call it other than mind-numbing. This I know… this was the craziness that was my life in 2014.

Since the “craziness that was my life” happened, I’ve struggled what to call it, how to refer to it, how to give it the “respect” it’s due. In fact, I always seem to default to calling it the “Craziness.”  It doesn’t seem to fit any mold, at least none that I know.  I mentioned to my therapist that I think I struggle with defining it because I really don’t want to be tied to whatever label might come with it.

To me legally divorced and emotionally widowed is the only thing that makes sense and yet, that’s not an option when filling out paperwork (since the Craziness every time that question comes up, I leave it blank.)  With my recent determination towards self-care, I affirm each morning that I am a child of God, that I am loved with an everlasting love, that I am clothed with strength and dignity and laugh without fear of the future (Prov 31:25) but there are times that I still can’t seem to figure out who I am and the lyrics to Irene Cara’s song Out Here on My Own play over and over in my mind.

I’m not sure I will ever really know what to call it. And maybe the Craziness will just be what it will always be. And maybe I don’t need a label. Maybe the definition of it will be just a picture of me surviving after such a crazy time that was my life. Maybe…. nope, definitely.

 

I Don’t Think So!

Z. looking ahead , , ,

This is going to be a different kind of post for me… its pretty reactive but I just can’t get it outta my “craw.”

I was reading one of those articles where one writes in for advice and the so-called expert chimes in. In this particular instance, a husband and wife were going to be returning to their hometown and she wants to hang out with old college friends,which includes an ex…. someone she was only with for a few weeks but with whom she had an intimate relationship. And apparently she feels obligated to include/see him since they share mutual friends.

The husband is uncomfortable with her hanging around the ex and though he knows this guy (he came to their wedding!) he has tried on numerous occasions to share his feelings with his wife… to which she replies “get over it.”

The question he asked the advice columnist–Was it OK for him to ask his wife not to see this guy because it caused him so much anxiety, or should he listen to his wife and just deal with his feelings of anxiousness. This so-called advice columnist told him that he needed to be open to his wife spending time with the group, including this guy, and that he should -and I quote, “…for goodness sake, be cool about it.”

Are you KIDDING me?! How many of us look back and wish we had trusted our gut? I remember telling M that I knew something was going on, I was just trying to sort out the pieces. It’s a weird feeling but when you feel something isn’t right – most of the time something isn’t right. And for this “advice expert” to tell this husband that his feelings aren’t justified or valid and that he should be perfectly fine knowing that his wife was only trying the guy on for size before she met her now husband…. give me a flippin’ break!

I’m by no means qualified to give this guy advice, but if he asked me, I would tell him that if his wife can’t acknowledge the present emotional stress that she puts on her husband and marriage by maintaining this link to her past, then its time to reconsider the future.

Ok, rant managed.

 

 

 

Reservation for Two, Table for One

Z. new life, new start , , , , , ,

Since M is no longer a part of my life, I’ve been to movies, concerts, restaurants, and local events by myself. That’s nothing new for me – I was doing all of these before I met M and immediately after the craziness that was my life in 2014, I did things by myself primarily because I needed the escape from my own life.

I still go to movies and concerts and out to dinner and local events but now I prefer to share these moments with others.  Recently, I purchased two tickets to see one of my favorite songwriters, Matisyahu.  I had always purchased multiple tickets and I was always fortunate enough to find someone with the time and money to go – that is until now. For weeks, I asked everyone I knew and the answer was always no thank you, can’t make it, I don’t know that artist, nope.

Now mind you, money is still not the easiest for me to come by, so having $80 wrapped up in a ticket that I was going to have to suck up really hurt.  Just because I was willing to spend $80 on a ticket didn’t mean anyone else was willing to spend $80 on a ticket.  In the end, I called a friend at the last minute and said that either I could go by myself or find someone who enjoys all kinds of music even if they didn’t know this particular artist. And in turn, she drove and paid for dinner so for me that was a win/win.

Yet somehow, this became yet another reminder that at the end of the day, it is just me – a table for one. When I pause and remember to put it all in perspective, I’m realizing I’m in good company since after all…

Just one sun lights the sky.
Just one moon turns the tide.
A man can change the world with just one thought.
One promise made can last forever
Just one rock will bend a river
One God up in heaven is all we’ve got        

yup… sometimes one can be a lot

One Can be Alot – Blackjack Billie

Technically, it’s Not Illegal

Z. new life, new start , , ,

That’s what the police officer said to me a few weeks ago.

I met a friend for lunch at one of my favorite spots. We had finished our lunch and were getting ready to start our discussion of the Bible Study we were doing when the manager discretely came over and said to us, “Did you know the guy sitting at the table next to you?”  Neither of us did and the manager continued on to say that one of his employees, while delivering food to another table, noticed that person recording on his phone. To which my friend, K says “he was recording our conversation?” and the manager said, “No, he was recording you” (making that statement directly to me.)

Of course, we were full of questions and probably asked the same one over and over again, trying to find out what the heck he could have been filming or even why… going so far as to even ask the manager if he was sure.  Yes, the employee has the same phone and was positive the phone was in the record mode. The manager said that he observed the guy leave, followed him out and then provided me with the license plate number and the model of the car as well as a general description of the guy.

As the conversation went on I got more and more shaky and uncomfortable. K and I wrapped up the conversation with the manager and I headed to the police station to file a report.  After giving the details of the incident, which mind you included the time, place, location, description and plate number of the car, and description of the individual I was told that technically what he did wasn’t illegal.  Wait, what?!?!  Nope, it’s not illegal for someone to electronically violate your sense of “assumed privacy” (my word not theirs) in a public place.  So aside from being mindful of what’s going on around me, and reporting anything suspicious there wasn’t anything they could (or were going to) do.

That restaurant is still one of my favorites and the few people that know what happened that day ask me why I still go back. Honestly, why wouldn’t I? The manager has proven that he’s got my back. I talked to him not too long ago and told him how much I appreciated what he did. He said he was torn that day. He didn’t know if he should have confronted the guy or even tell me not knowing how I might react. I told him I appreciated the fact that he acted as if I could have been his sister/mother/ aunt –getting me the information and talking to the police after I filed the report.

There are moments when having M around would have made me feel safer just because of his presence, but the reality is that M isn’t here anymore.  In the past couple of years men in my life have stepped up to the plate to watch out for me: my father, my brother, my pastor, my friends, and now a stranger who had no idea about my past but thought enough of me as an individual to consider my future.

Old Habits Die Hard

Z. new life, new start , , ,

Its amazing how I still go through the motions of a relationship that doesn’t exist any longer. I opened up a new tube of toothpaste today to discover that I had purchased the gel type. I almost got upset until I remembered that for most of my life up until I met M, I used gel toothpaste. He didn’t like it so we always bought the paste. Was there any reason that we couldn’t each have our own toothpaste in the marriage? No, but it was just something that I adopted from his life.  I also realized that I used to use two big fluffy towels after a shower, one specifically to wrap my hair. M told me that I used too many big towels…so I started using just one towel and a hand towel creatively wrapped and secured to hold my wet hair.

Two years after he’s gone, I’m still following that same routine. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before but somehow it took the shocking neon blue color of the toothpaste to bring it to light. Thanks Colgate – you’ve brightened my smile and my future.