I just started reading a book by Elizabeth Gilbert. Eat, Pray, Love. It arrive by mail from Tampa, Florida, home of my dearest friend and co-member of what should be called Divorced Ladies in Self Torment.
I am on page 64 and already my life feels changed. And the change is different than the one from a little over 2 years ago when my then husband drove away with a U-haul full of his things and my 2 year old son sitting smiling in his car seat (he and Daddy were going for a ride!). So what is this change now?
Let me start by saying little of what is contained in this blog not be original thoughts of my own... not that I am not capable (I like to think all those years of school should account for and amount to something!) but its inspired by what I am reading. By discussion with family and friends. I can't take any credit for any of it so lets put a disclaimer out there up front.
The line that inspired me to write is short. In these few words there lies an explanation of the torment and guilt that has haunted the days since I decided to end my marriage of 13 years.
"So this is what you gave up everything for? This is why you gutted our entire life together? For a few stalks of asparaus and a Italian newspaper?"
"yes."
The most troubling thing to understand, to grasp, is acceptance of idea that one can experience joy after feeling they have, in fact, gutted someones entire life... not just someone, but families, inlaws, grandparent-inlaws, brother and sister-inlaws. That's it. The reason I cry still, almost daily. Unable to experience happiness. Don't feel I deserve it, despite it's for this VERY reason that I decided to leave my marriage. There had to be untapped happiness out there like sap soaking up a tree just waiting for me to scratch off the surface and let it pour out.
There's a new crowd of followers though, now. Guilt and Pain. They are often accompanied by their friends Depression (who is rotton to the core) and Emptiness. These guys leave me feeling more unhappy than I ever was in all the years i was married. Ironic... isn't it.
