Reminder of why I started- day 86

I was at a party a few days ago, having a conversation with someone I have known casually for a couple years. We spoke about work, vacations, and kids, all very standard small talk, but then, because she knew about my experience with divorce, she opened up to me.

"My husband came home in May and told me he was leaving me. Totally out of the blue. After fifteen years and two children.. he said he didn't love me and was leaving."

My jaw dropped. It never gets easier to hear someone tell that tale. 

I sat and listened for over an hour. Everything she said, I had felt. Everything her ex had done, I had heard. I felt so honored to sit there and hear her heart and be able to understand her. 

As I was listening, I made her a promise, "No matter what, I won't say one positive word to you about this. It is horrible and wrong and shitty and I won't tell you otherwise."

She looked me right in the eye and said. "FINALLY! I am so sick of people telling me it will get better, that God's got this, that this will make me stronger. I want to slap the next person that says any of that to me."

She goes, "I'm working out, I'm doing devotionals, I'm seeing friends, (for God's sake, I'm at this party!), and guess what? I still feel like shit. So stop telling me what to do and how to move on, because I'm doing it, and it's not helping."

And to be honest, I needed to hear that just as much as she needed to voice it. Because unlike her, I did everything wrong during my divorce.

I stopped exercising and completely let go of my physical appearance. I ate too much, drank too much, and spent too much money. I never left my parent's house. I cut off all contact with every friend I ever had. I took twice the amount of Adderall I was prescribed. I cussed out and harassed my ex on phone calls, texts, DMs, and just when he thought he had finally blocked me on everything- I bitched him out on Venmo with $1 payments accompanied by one line messages. I screamed at My Lord and Savior, "With a God like you, who needs Satan? Fuck you for letting this happen to me." 

I was gross and rotten and vile and dangerous. I was hurting so badly, all I wanted to was inflict a modicum of the pain I was feeling on someone else. And guess what? I still felt like shit. 

Following a divorce, there is not silver bullet on how to get over it. There is no amount of marathon running, sky diving, or world traveling that can stitch back up your broken heart. There isn't enough amphetamines or bottles of wine on the planet to sooth the soul of woman torn to shreds. 

And I want to talk about it. I want you to know how I handled divorce, and I want to hear how you are handling yours. I want to tell you how I laid, face down on the floor of my studio apartment, sobbing and heaving and drooling and begging God please, please let me wake up to my old life in the morning. Please, God, when I open my eyes, let me be back at home in bed with my husband... only to wake up puffy faced, hung over, and alone, forced to face another day of agony. I want to talk about who I was at my darkest, and I want to know you in yours. I want to sit with you in it, and refuse to shed any false light. I want to feel pain with you, because I felt so alone in mine. I promise I won't be cheery or funny or positive. I promise to be raw and real and honest. When I ask how you're doing and you say, "Fucking terrible." I'll just reply, "I know." And you'll know I mean it.