One Tired, Broken Brain Who Just Wants To Get Over All of This–Quickly.

In all honesty, I’m doing better emotionally about all of this separation stuff lately, but I occasionally run into bumpy times, and tonight is one of those. Earlier in the day, someone asked me about what was going on with Chef, and it served as a launching pad for some of the thoughts I’ve been keeping at bay to resurface. I imagine I’ve mentioned before that I don’t deal with dramatic emotions very well. My stomach turns to knots, and I flounder about in my head trying to find something to take my mind off of painful or intense emotions and back into the controllable bay of my thoughts. The hyper-vigilance kicks in, and I start working on the problem without realizing that I’m falling back into the bad habit of trying to fix this marriage…again! And yet, I don’t want that guy back, so I confuse myself. What fresh hell is this, Oh Broken Brain???!!!

This evening, I just seemed to be unsuccessful at switching channels in my brain. Even prayer didn’t ease it, and I get the feeling I need to address some of this; I can’t hide from it forever, and for me to heal, the wounds need to be scrubbed out…which is always painful no matter what.

Because I found myself alone in the hotel room tonight, I tried to examine why I was so easily launched back into some pain by a casual question about Chef— not the horrible pain like in the beginning– but still enough to really make my stomach hurt. I’ve been doing so well, why is this one vague mention of him causing me to stress out about all of this all over again?

Being me, I decided…if this broken brain has to work on the problem, I’d like to set the goal on something that I actually want, not something the broken part of me seems to need. The goal is …I have no earthly  idea. I know it can’t be a reconciliation. I don’t really even like the man he has become. There is nothing there left to admire. But deep down, I keep wondering if the Old Chef will resurface one day, and I will have given up too soon, and have lost the chance to have him back again. At the same time, though, I am afraid of him, so I don’t want him around me. Does anyone else go through this kind of insanity in their minds? It is giving me a headache.

I’m no fool. I know that it can never work out, and after the last conversation with him, which was just plain evil, I’m even more determined to change that behavior in myself that seems to attract these kinds of men.

I don’t so much miss Chef anymore; instead, I think I grieve for the comfortable stability of the life I had created with him as opposed to a future that I have no idea what is going to look like. Yes. I’m optimistic that everything will work out fine. How could I not? At the end of my life, I will be stepping into something infinitely better, and all this will be just another thing. But, it seems always so uncertain, and I’ve never felt this way before. When I was younger, I would just Forest Gump my way through, always believing that whatever I was doing could be fixed later if it was wrong, but I don’t think that way anymore, and it makes me feel a bit handicapped.

I know I’m grieving for the old Chef and my old life, even as dysfunctional as they might have been. He was responsible, dedicated to giving us a good home, made me laugh, and most of all, I believed him when he said he loved me, and we would grow old together, watching our grandchildren play.

I miss trusting someone, and I can feel those old walls going back up that make me isolate myself from people, especially men. I miss the trust. I can barely look any man in the eye anymore, and that makes me feel even worse. I actually went on a blind date with a guy, and I couldn’t even tell you what color eyes he had. I fled quickly, making an excuse. I can’t jump back in like that…it’s too soon, and any future man would have to overcome obstacles that these scars are causing me. Frankly, I don’t think a lot of men are going to up for the task. 😦

I keep reminding myself that I’ve been with this same man my whole entire adult life, and it is going to take longer than a couple of months to get over it completely, but I still have this tiny fear in me that I will never love anyone ever again like I loved Chef. And frankly, that blows. I loved being a wife, friend, mother, and confidant. But, even if I could “lure” him back, I would feel even worse if successful than this because everything would be a big question. The trust is annihilated. If he was a few minutes late from work, I’d be freaked that he was either scoring drugs or cheating on me. I would wonder what he was up to while I was at work. He has never been able to forgive and forget, so this last painful year would be a subject we’d have to relive over and over every time I freaked out about something that reminded me of it, or when he just happened to be displeased with me. There’s just been too much hurt on both sides to even think this can be redeemed.

And then I went down this fun road. What if  it is just my ego that wants him to want me back just so I can have the fleshly satisfaction of dumping him on his butt the way he did me? I’m hoping that isn’t it. I’m always running this Public Relations campaign in my head and heart for him. Or what if I just want T to have a tiny taste of what pain she has caused me? I fight against those kinds of  motives and thoughts all the time, but only God truly knows what our real motivations are. We are all good at rationalizing our behaviors, and burying our real intent down deep.

I don’t really know what the point of this whole post is. I guess I just wanted to sort out some of my thoughts. Sitting around, being haunted by the memories of all his sweet promises and all the times I cracked up at something he said or did; then, wondering if he’s making the same promises to T, and making her laugh the way he once made me laugh,  is destructive and I figured trying to write what I’m feeling would take some of the sting out of it. And, I must admit, it kind of does. I feel a little more peaceful at the moment.

Also, I would like the Lord to note: I haven’t actually prayed for patience…lol. I know how that works!!

Good Night!

— Bird