It’s been over a year since I separated and let me tell you something—the mind is a strange creature. I have no regrets about my separation/divorce. I know the marriage was a rushed thing born of fear and insecurity sustained by pride and deeper insecurity. I shouldn’t have gotten into the marriage and I definitely shouldn’t have stayed in it for nearly as long as I did. People do stupid things when they’re scared. I’m a happy person now that I’m free from the tragedy but everyone has bad days.
It’s on the bad days—the ones where I’m sick, sleep-deprived, brain-dead, PMSing, etc. that my mind wanders and I treat myself to a pity party grieving what can only be described as a fantasy of distorted and even manufactured memories. There are days my mind wanders wondering if maybe we just tried to make it work—conveniently forgetting we saw a couples therapist and ignored her completely. I wish that I wasn’t lying alone in my bed—conveniently forgetting how every night he’d choose watching pre-recorded TV shows and movies late into the night instead of coming to bed with me. I wish there was someone to play with the kids on a Saturday morning so I could sleep in—forgetting that was a luxury absolutely forbidden to me reserved entirely for him. I imagine how nice it is to go out for dinner and drinks– forgetting that was something he preferred doing with friends at strip clubs. My brain feeds me these fantasies and, almost as if by default, sticks ExMutant’s body and face in shutting out the reality of our relationship as best as it can.
It is as if my brain realizes I am experiencing some sort of pain on an emotional level and frantically searches for a rational solution. The best it can come up with is dredging up ExMutant. I’m sure this is somewhat my fault. I refuse to date. I refuse to even place myself in situations where I could possibly meet someone. I just feel that given the mental and emotional state I’m in, the most I would do is get involved in one more screwed up, illogical relationship. Why waste the time? Why create the opportunity for pain? But in doing so, I am denying my brain the opportunity to find a new “solution” to the problem of pain. I think as long as I am aware my brain is simply scrambling, I’m able to keep myself from sinking into the ill-conceived fantasies my brain presents me. No one can do for me what I cannot do for myself dear Brain.
They say you shouldn’t believe everything you hear, see, read, etc. Honestly, you shouldn’t believe everything you think either. More than ever before, I’ve become acutely aware of how many negative messages and images my brain launches at me in the course of a day. The best theory I can come up with is that the brain’s number one duty is self-preservation and the most rational solution to accomplish that is maintaining changes at a minimum. If you are a bold and confident person, you are less likely to be so inclined and so the brain is at war with you constantly preying on your fears and insecurities desperate to keep you steady even if it’s not exactly the healthiest of answers. As far as logic and rational thinking go, a steady unhealthy existence is far less risky than the unknown.
I know this is the happiest I have been in a very long time. I haven’t been this excited about the possibilities life has in store for me in ages. My happy days far exceed my bad ones. I acutely remember the pain and isolation I felt on a daily basis in my marriage. I felt undesirable, convenient at best. I felt as if I’d ruined my life and entirely disconnected from who I was at the core. I felt practically enslaved to a concept, an image, that was not mine. I felt on a constant basis that I was living someone else’s life and wondered what had happened to mine.
But, it’s over now- the fantasy, the dream/nightmare, the image, the life that were never mine to begin with. The stages of grief have gone through me about a million times, sometimes all at once it felt like. More and more though, I’m sitting on Acceptance and it’s a good place to be.
