Funny thing about life, it moves us forward, no matter how much we try to swim against the current.
It’s been nearly five months since Mr. LeFlufy and I called it quits. I now live an hour and a half away in a tiny 600 square foot suite with one of our cats, my mom’s fave blue chair, a sweet mountain bike, a shelf of my fave books, a few essentials and not much else. Gone is the big house, the fur family, the mountain of “stuff” that I used to have, the ease of a love that survived for 12 years through a shitload of ups, downs and one significantly enormous tragedy. Gone are the daily laughs that Greg and I shared when we lived together, the safe feeling of being snuggled at night by him and cuddling our fur babies-the comfort zone that we’d slid into at some point during our time together.
Even though it was my choice to end our marriage, I still have days where I feel decimated, lost, confused as to why I couldn’t just stick around and fight through my feelings of unhappiness and discontent. I question why the universe couldn’t just leave me the fuck alone, for once, and why it had to make me into an energy-guzzling crazy person who couldn’t handle living in close proximity with anyone anymore (even a guy who loved me implicitly and bent over backwards trying to make me feel loved) without feeling like I was losing my mind.
I am a sponge for energy these days and I can’t keep other people’s energy from seeping into me and changing my moods, energy levels, mindset. This grief over the end of my marriage has just compounded it. I can go from happy to raging, in a split second, after passing someone in a shitty mood on the street. I can switch from being energetic and full of zip to being completely exhausted and needing a nap after having a brief conversation with a friend who is upset about something. I can rub against a stranger in passing and instantly feel what they feel, but without any understanding as to why they feel it. This energy transfer issue started shortly after I died and it has become harder and harder to get a handle on ever since. It leaves me feeling crazy beans a lot of the time, so I spend a great deal of my time alone these days, avoiding other people’s energy.
When this all started, I reacted completely defensively because it felt like I was being invaded-violated almost. Rather than let energy just run through me and accept it, I started to lose my shit. It infuriated me that I had no control over my own reactions. When I realized I couldn’t control it, I just started throwing up walls against all energy, including Greg’s. If I blocked everybody out, I could keep myself level and feeling somewhat normal. I could continue to function, just with little to no feeling. It worked perfectly, but it had the dual (and completely negative) effect of morphing my romantic love for him into something different, something with a lot less feeling inside it and, by the time I finally caught on to it, it was too late to recover it again.
So I decided to no longer waste our time and I moved on. Greg knows this. We have discussed it, at length, but it doesn’t make either of us hurt any less about the outcome.
Time truly does heal. It also allows us to process, understand and find the strength to move forward.
The simple truth is that I’m happier being alone, where I can hang out in my bubble and have the time and space to work on learning to let energy flow through me when it comes, instead of freaking out and raging about it or just blocking everyone out (which is still my fail safe). I’m happier being independent and having to fend for myself, work shit out on my own, embrace the challenge of following my intuition. I am happier knowing that he doesn’t have to deal with the craziness that has been me for the last year and a half. I’m happier knowing that he no longer has to constantly wonder if I will love him or leave him every day and that he finally has some peace too.
But I’m also sad that we no longer have our life together, that I miss him and our animals, that we are hanging out less and less now that I live in a different town. I mourn what was, but I also accept that it’s healthy to go through this process.
Life happens the way it does because it’s meant to. I finally accepted that truth about four years ago when I was a year into grieving the loss of our daughter and realized I would never fully understand the reason for such a tragedy. Life experience happens because it is meant to-even when we don’t understand it, agree with it, or know what to do about it.
The more we fight against it-the more we try to change the inevitable outcome or struggle to try to control it-the longer and more painful and exhausting the journey becomes. I often day dream about just plunging myself into the current of life and letting it take me wherever it wants, without struggle or resistance, but, I am a strong swimmer, so this is just not my way. I have to dig in, resist, struggle against it all until I learn how to accept the limits of my strength and let go, a little bit at a time, enough to let the current sweep me a little farther downstream.
I’m still swimming against the current right now, but I think I’m nearly at the point where I’m almost spent with the struggle and will have to rest and relax enough to see where the flow takes me.