The Process

Everyone has a different way of dealing with tough times. This is the story of my own process to deal with the change and my steps towards the new me.

The time following the break up was brutal. Everywhere I looked was a reminder of him; every park, every restaurant, every road was a painful reminder. At night my dreams were invaded by stories of him returning and happy endings that would never happen.  Not even sleep could provide an escape. Recovering wasn’t easy, and though I tried to hide my pain, the people closest to me could tell. The first few months after the break up were filled with trying to find a new guy to help me forget about my ex fiancé, and pretending like nothing happened. I was trying to convince myself I didn’t care but my business as usual charade grew tiring quickly. I had to scale back the “happy” production by only pretending at work to keep myself from wearing out, but this meant I went crazy at home. I was now in my “time to run” stage.  I was ready to get away from anything that was a reminder of what use to be; hoping that if I could get away from the places the memories and the pain they brought would fade away. I can’t say what it looked like from the outside, but this was one of the toughest stages on the inside. I felt like I was in a hole that was way too deep and I was uselessly clawing to get out. I had no idea how to get myself out of this stage of desperation.  I stayed locked in this place for what seemed like eternity. I went to work and faked a smile, came home and crawled in bed. I had given up on getting out of the hole and decided to just live in it. Some where in all of this I found out my ex fiancé was now married to someone else; I wasn’t worth the commitment but I guess she was. This pushed me to my breaking point. I hit rock bottom. The bottom was a better feeling than the limbo of not knowing if it would get worst. It was as bad as it could get; there was nothing left to fear. Slowly from this state I began to build myself up again, piece by piece. I don’t remember exactly at what point in time my “safety zone” came along but when it did, it gave me a quiet place to hide from the sadness. I will explain exactly what the “safety zone” was at a later time; it deserves its very own post. I was still in the “hole” but this was when I started to deal with my pain and continued to build myself up. The recovery was still slow moving but at least it wasn’t at a stand still. My “safety zone” gave me the idea for a trip, so I took a vacation during this time to the state of Washington. The trip was a major turning point. It was nice to get away to somewhere new. A place where no one knew what I had been through. It was the clean slate, I’m moving on kind of feeling that I needed. Washington provided much more than expected. My heart felt light and free. I felt so peaceful and perfectly at home the entire trip. I didn’t want to leave but I promised myself I would return to this place that left me wrapped in joy.  The trip gave me hope that I would get through all of the pain and come out on the other side. I started to think of myself more, and began to realize that I was the only person that could come to my rescue. I was angry at myself for caring about this break up for so long. My anger started to change my attitude towards the pain and I began a new “war” tactic. During this time I hit a new stage. This stage could be called numerous things: the “anything you can do, I can do better”, the “yeah so what if I lied” or the “put that in your pipe and smoke it”. The list could go on for days. Here is where I did everything that I had promised my ex and myself I would never do. Such as go out and party, buy a new car, and grow my hair out. It was a rebellious stage but it was better than the black dullness. I was trying to speed my recovery by acting like a totally different person. I thought that if I could be a new person then the pain wouldn’t follow me around anymore and maybe the lost feeling would go away. Though somewhere deep inside I knew it was a doomed effort so I continued to use my safety zone to quietly process my pain. I was so busy trying to make the memories go away and so use the pain in my chest that I didn’t realize them slipping away. I can’t pin point the exact time this happened, but somewhere along the line I stopped singing sad love songs and dreaming of his return and started dreaming of going back home to  Washington. I was ready for a new start and a whole new me.  

Donating my wedding dress. 

The end. Or should I say the beginning?

 A year ago I would have titled this the end: The end of my love, the end of my life, the end of the world. But looking back now I see the truth; this was the beginning: The beginning of my life, my love and my dream.

I decided early on in life that I wanted to get married right out of college and become a mom. I dreamed of having a fairy tale romance like a high school sweetheart marriage. I had no idea what I was asking for but it wasn’t hard to find. I fell in love in high school with a young man slightly older than myself. He was mature and charming. I couldn’t resist being swept out of my dull high school books and into my fantasy world. The time flew by; graduation came and went as our feelings grew stronger. The life I had planned for myself seemed to be falling into place. But, the summer quickly gave way to the new school year, which meant I moved into my college dorm a whole 3 hours away from my heart and soul. Needless to say I was miserable and rarely allowed myself to enjoy the college experience. My time was filled with longing for my love and crying over our growing number of fights. The distance took its toll on us and the relationship came to a harsh end over thanksgiving. Devastated I called it quits at school and moved back home after only one semester. That should have been the end of him but after only four months of being home we found our way back into each others arms. From there things went very fast. Within a month I had a shiny rock on my left ring finger and was planning the winter wedding of my dreams! He was the center of my world, the sun of my universe. Every move I made was for him. I was young and in love what can I say. Time began to blur as I prepared for my I do’s. The dress was bought; the venues and photographer booked, and the custom napkins were orders. My Bridesmaids were fitted as the wedding date grew near. I called these months of planning the wedding fog; I paid little attention to anyone that was not him or anything that was not the wedding. I didn’t see it coming though now I can see the signs. He started to pull away and the arguments grew more common. I could see the ice was thin but told myself it was only stress that caused the fights. I told myself this but I lied. Just a month and a half before the wedding it all came crashing down. There would be no wedding; there was no engagement, there was nothing. He changed his mind. He left me there alone in the ashes of the only world I knew. I pretended to be ok, putting a smile on at work. Truth be told I had no idea what to do on my own.

That was the end. Or should I say the beginning.