Enveloped in complete darkness,
she spells out clearly from her depths
words like ropes reaching,
asking someone to take hold
and pull her out.
Maybe if enough people
take just one thread of her words,
maybe she’ll be lifted out of her pit
and see the light of day once more.
Turning adversity into opportunity…
being willing to see value in difficulty,
not complaining, but doing what needs to be done.
Rewiring my brain is difficult.
My brain wants to complain.
It wants me to feel sorry for myself,
to feel like a victim,
to focus on the abandonment, the betrayal,
the grief and the loss.
It wants me to feel envious of intact families,
and look at women with their men
and ask, Why not me?
I’m tired of being tortured by my mind.
I don’t want it to remind me of everything that went wrong.
I want to focus on what’s going right.
But after four decades of negative programming,
I don’t know if I’m capable of seeing the positive.
I taught all my yoga classes
(seven in three days)
and I am exhausted.
I had dinner in Westminster
with my cousin and her family,
gave my father a card and a hug.
Back home the loneliness sets in.
My kids are with their dad and his girlfriend,
and I keep seeing
families playing together,
wondering how my life got to this,
where I’m working myself to exhaustion
just to make ends meet,
homeless in less than a month,
angry at the injustice,
lonely without my kids.
I want this to change.
I am willing to change.
But I need help to see beyond my pain.
I just want to be a good mother.
I try so hard.
And at the end of the day,
I lose it sometimes.
I lose it with my kids
when I’m tired and they’re tired.
There used to be another adult around
who’d step in
when I couldn’t anymore.
That adult is gone.
When I’m tired and sick
there is no one else to take care of me
I’m tired of taking care of myself,
tired of being alone.
I want help.
It’s in these moments
that the anger wells up
if I don’t stop it.
I get angry for being thrust into this place
of missing my kids when they’re not here
and overwhelmed when they are.
I’m tired of this mess, this story.
I can do so well for hours and hours.
I can be proud of my mothering,
the balance I manage to find.
But at the end of the day
I’m tired and they’re tired
and sometimes I just lose it.
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.
Sitting here wondering why.
I managed to find a safe space within myself
and then he pulls the rug out again.
And now I’m falling again,
and the floor opens up,
and the earth opens up,
and I fall clear to the other side
And I’m free falling again.
When will the ground hold?
When will my safe space
extend to a place outside of myself,
a space where he can’t bother me,
a space that’s mine
and mine alone?