Real

"Life's like a jump rope.
Up, down
Up, down
Up, down
Up, down
Yeah, it will get hard. Remember, life's like a jump rope."

Blue October


Greif seems to hit me in waves. This week, I've been preparing extensively to move back into my parents' home. I'm selling most of what I own. I've been able to be pretty optimistic about it so far, but as I was packing up early this morning, a little wave hit. I put a price sticker on my wedding bouquet, the one I made myself. I did almost everything myself for my wedding to Mr. M.

As I'm pricing the things that people gave us for our wedding not too long ago, I'm feeling the loss. The loss of our future together. Our possessions aren't really worth much, but they represent the life we built together. I really don't care about the stuff. I don't care where it goes or what happens to it. But selling everything makes it final, makes it real. I think I'm really emotionally detached for survival's sake. It hurts so much to think about what he's done to me and our family- what he is continuing to do. He's trying to run from the pain he's in. But you can't run from yourself. While he's running away, I'm here dealing with reality. I feel like I'm trudging up a mountain alone.

I skipped out on therapy today. I'm not sure I can keep doing it right now with my new therapist. She's really focusing on the many things that happened to me as a teenager. I simply can't process that right now. There is so much required of me. I'm starting full time college classes on Monday, preparing to move on Saturday, and being a single mom, of course. The kids have been sick, as well. I've been starting to crack up a little bit. I usually keep track of things really well, but I've been putting things in strange places and forgetting about them. I keep forgetting dates and times for appointments. My spelling is getting awful. That's not like me. Usually, my brain keeps running tabs on all those things. I have a mental to-do list at all times. I think I need an appointment to get a massage or something to relieve some stress.

I don't know what else to do but to ride out the wave. To allow myself to cry it out, get some sleep, and face it again tomorrow. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm so thankful for my children. I'm thankful that I have to keep going for them. I'm working on a better future for them, for myself. Someday, things will be different... There's no guarantee that things will be easier, but change is inevitable.

 

Final Thought

"Courage isn't always grandiose. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, 'I'll try again tomorrow'. "

Thomas S. Monson