where am i at now? what the fuck is now. now is a clusterfuck of rebuilding. finding the peices that work and dont. my apartment is a graveyard. not because the memories are painful or im listlessly wishing my x would come back. (no, definately no) but because everything about this move represented hope. i was hopeful for all the things that would come with this apartment. and they did for a second. like any change, its big and exciting and then back to reality. so the reality is that i live far from everyone and everything and no one around here speaks english. so im looking and asking the universe. with possibilities and options. and optimism.
ive spoken with a lot of other divorcees about their experiences post divorce. and its interesting. a lot of my female clients suffered from anxiety. a lot with anxiety or buried it in relationships that were wrong for them. I have successfully done both. i.e. Queensman. anxiety is interesting as i’ve never ever suffered from it in my life previous to now and i’ve been through some heavy shit. anxiety is a bitch. it robs you of your ability to reason like a normal person. it weighs you down with what ifs. it takes your appetite. it makes you afraid of everything. i think about the past, fear. i think about the future, fear. i think about everything. ugly butterflies in stomach. i melted down wondering when i would go back to normal, am i having a nervous breakdown? when i would stop feeling like a crazy person. this is not part of the stages of grief - between my mom’s brain cancer and my exes perfect timing to walk out on me and financial instability- i’m allowed to break down. i’m allowed to do whatever the fuck i want atleast for a little while longer. so i’m keeping track it. learning to control my thoughts. learning to make it stop. i never understood.
i think alot of it comes from a loss of part of my identity. i am wife. i perform the actions of wife and general wifery. and now im not wife. what does this person do? who is this person? i used to know what i was doing every thursday until my death. i dont anymore. i mean i do, i work till i fall over, but not in the same way.
i meditated that the universe loves me and everything is going to be fine. no. i meditated that i have a calm mind and open heart. more anxiety. i meditated. worse. i’ve burned herbs, stuffed them in my pillow, covered myself in crystals, talked to councellors. i talked to my coworkers about what the fuck is happening to me. he said fear. and your projecting fear. youre putting out what you expect to happen and so it will. the law of attraction. change the tape you play in your head. i knew this already. i turned on gangsta rap and reminded myself that for everything i’ve been thru for my head to be what brings me down is bullshit. my spine is made of steal. and i felt better. gangsta 90s rap is the answer.
part of my wishes i had done this when i was much younger. back in 2011. when you’re younger youre less afraid.
im seeing a boy. who im seeing. we’re not seeing other people? its whatever. he’s committed to the single life style and im like cool. im committed to restoring my financial freedom, changing my relationship with money completely and building my empire. and i can only go as a deep as puddle at the moment, so that works for now. we all have our priorities, right? that works? does that work for you? what is this life? its exactly the life i imagined it would be when i unmarried so how interesting is that. but i never imagined further than this. hm.
