This morning I lost it
on my meditation cushion.
my six year old son
kept wanting things from me,
and I was calm about it,
up until the point
where I wasn’t.
I got angry.
I began to yell
needing one moment to myself
trying so hard
and doing so much for other people
and don’t I deserve one moment to myself?
And then of course I regretted it.
I felt guilty, ashamed.
I asked for forgiveness
from my two children and my sister,
who had to hear me storming about,
losing my temper, being crazy.
help me wake up more,
so that I can act in such a way
that there are no more regrets.
The most painful thing
is the disappointment I feel
when I’ve been impatient with my kids,
when I can’t step up,
be the adult
and just keep going.
I get stuck, hung up in my pain.
It blinds me.
It makes me say things I don’t mean,
and then I have to live with myself afterwards.
I’m tired of this feeling,
so tired of the old way of thinking.
I have worked so hard to overcome it,
but it’s so easy to slip into the old habits.
PMS is back, and this is when it’s the worst.
Will this ever change?*
Or am I doomed to be Jekyll and Hyde forever?
*I guess I can look forward to menopause?
He wants to say Hi to the kids every night.
Every night his voice is in my home
like he never left.
now his mistress’s voice is in my home,
as my son asks if she is there,
and her face and her voice appear.
Son says that he can’t wait to see her, the other woman.
My son can’t wait to see my husband’s mistress.
How do I compartmentalize?
How do I live with the cognitive dissonance?
I’m trying to be free of them,
but they are in my mind,
in my home,
in my children’s minds.
My children are innocent.
They are loving, accepting and kind,
just like I want them to be,
just like I taught them to be.
But I get tense every night when he calls.
He left my bed, my heart, my home,
but every night he comes back
like he never left.
Why am I so grumpy,
Why do I keep snapping at my kids?
Why is my house such a mess?
Why do I feel angry at my husband again?
Why does my life feel so disorganized?
Why am I so disappointed in myself
and everything about my current situation?
it’s time for bed.
My kids come back home today
and they tell me
(Insert Husband’s Mistress’s name here)
is going with us to Utah in July!
In a state of shock.
I think I might have gasped.
My daughter asks
Are you jealous, Mom?
And I answer
No, not jealous…I’m…I’m…surprised.
I text him a litany of curse words
to make any sailor proud.
Then I text his Mormon mother,
my (still) mother in law,
the woman I called Mom for seven years.
Are you okay with them
sharing a bed in your home
when we are still married?
I don’t want my children exposed
to their adulterous behavior.
She answers back,
That’s never allowed in my house.
But talk to him. Not me. That’s it.
Then I text his dad and his stepmom.
Neither one of them answers.
No surprise there.
I mean, after seven good years of marriage
and still together after eight,
what’s one daughter in law
down the drain?
I guess I’m disposable to them
Just like I was to him.
Luckily there was a CoDA meeting tonight.
You have to just let go
they keep telling me.
I think really
IT needs to let go of me.
IT has its hooks in me.
I want to be free.
I want to feel alive again.
I don’t want to be angry,
hurt, sad or depressed anymore.
I want to set my life in order.
I want my home to be organized.
I want to have work
that allows me
to support myself and my children.
I apply for food stamps
because my money is all gone.
I get angry when I think about this.
He left our marriage,
and has moved on.
Now he spends his time
and his money on another.
Yes, I want to let go.
On the eve of my 41st birthday
and I’m feeling depressed.
My life has fallen apart,
husband with another woman…
they’re out tonight
at a Passover Seder,
at the home of a couple
who used to be my friends;
now they’ve accepted her as his,
and I am home with our children,
picking up the pieces of our wrecked life,
trying to maintain stability for them…
and I feel angry.
I feel hurt.
I feel betrayed, abandoned, discarded.
I want to be heard.
I want to be held.
I want to be seen.
I want a wise old grandma
to pull me into her lap,
to rock me, and hush me,
and tell me I am safe,
and all is well.
But there is no grandma here…
only me and my kids.
I search for meaning
as my fingers dance across keys,
sending words out
into a world of people
I most likely will never meet.
Who hears this?
Who knows this pain?
Who can tell me
that things will get better?
Who can convince me
that this is true?