I recently "celebrated" a milestone in my life. Yesterday as I was driving home from the nursing home in Clinton, IL where I do some PRN weekend work as a Speech-Language Pathologist (working with residents in cognitive and swallowing therapy), I chatted with my good friend Jill on the phone. At some point during our conversation, something one of us said sparked the realization that last week was the two year "anniversary" of my living solo. Two years ago I transitioned from a married woman living with her husband to a separated woman living alone.
This was the most gut-wrenchingly awful period of my life. Ask anyone who knows me well. I was an icky mess, for a long time (and in some ways, I still am). One or more people close to me may even be quoted as saying at some point over the past two years, "it's really hard being your friend right now." I am sure it was. However, the whole experience has also really hard on
me. Failure, rejection, hurt, anger, deep sadness, uncertainty, loneliness...on any given day I vacillated between these emotions as well as others. The biggest thing I missed and mourned the loss of was the sense of partnership that is in a marriage...being half of a whole. For a long time, I felt as if something was missing...as if I was broken.
I made the hard (but necessary) discovery that in the midst of a personal crisis...the world keeps on spinning. Time marches on. People would live their beautiful (and messy) lives...with or without me. Wedding invitations and baby announcements continued to arrive in the mail. No one meant them to be, but each one felt like a punch to the stomach. Some of those blows rendered me useless, lying on the floor either in a daze or in a mess of my own tears. I did my best to gather myself up and to be joyful for those close to me as they celebrated some of their most happiest of days.
Speaking of, here is a quick aside: my sadness in regard to my own situation
did not make me incapable of celebrating with others. I
very much wanted to be a part of these things for others and am so glad that I was able to be a part of weddings and showers and the births of babies over the past two years. Thanks to everyone who continued to allow me to be a part of these things. Friends celebrate together...and mourn together. No matter what.
More significant, though, than the pain and tears of the past two years...has been the healing. Two years ago I didn't think it would ever come. I know I'm not "done" (are we
ever really "done"?)...I have a long way to go in some senses. However, I am proud of where I am today...proud of the "me" that is still a work-in-progress. Proud, grateful...even happy.
I've read many of those sappy pictures with "inspirational" quotes that we all (yes, myself included!) throw around on Facebook and other social medium. There were some...those speaking of DECIDING to be happy, and those speaking of the power of forgiveness in helping you move past hurt...that I wanted to believe, but for a while just couldn't. It's weird, really. As hard and abstract as forgiveness is and feels...as weird as it sounds to just "decide" to be happy...there really is something to both of those statements. Forgiveness is...freeing. And deciding to be happy...really does help (much of the time).
I could've crawled under a rock and given up. Trust me...on some days, it felt like that would've been the easiest option. But...something inside me wouldn't allow it. There were outside forces as well...my family above all has been my rock, my steady foundation. I also have some pretty incredible, motivating and inspiring friends. Let me tell you what...if you want to know who your true friends are, check out who sticks by you when it's
hard. When you're at your lowest and ugliest, when you are NO fun to be around...who is still there? Somehow, I have quite a few of those hardy individuals who have weathered this storm with me...and for that I am grateful.
A huge part of me "getting through" the past two years has been having running and triathlon as outlets. Thanks to my training and racing, I have learned that I do possess a fierce mental toughness that I previously didn't know I had. The same mental toughness that pushed me to the finish line of my first 140.6-mile race has helped me get through the past two years. Honestly, I am not sure which "caused" which...or which helped the other more: the mental toughness necessary to endure a divorce or the mental toughness necessary to train for and complete an Iron-distance triathlon. However, I know that both things shaped and changed who I am...for the better. Being able to say that in the two years that I have been dealing with a personal crisis...I completed six marathons, three half-Iron distance tris and one full-Iron distance tri (and a bunch of shorter races as well) is pretty satisfying.
The biggest lessons I've taken away from the past two years are:
1. Hold your friends and family close. They need you...and you need them. And, sadly, tomorrow is not a promise. Take no moments with your loved ones for granted.
2. My mother has a framed picture in her room that reads: "You're
braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think"...and I've found this to be true. If it's true for me...I'm confident that it is true for everyone. Cliche or not, I've clung to this mantra.
3. Everyone has personal battles...some very visible, others invisible. Treat everyone with respect and gentleness. Watch what you say...your words have the potential to deeply hurt someone, or to build them up and encourage them.
4. Be grateful. Even when you feel like there is nothing "going right"...there is still something to be thankful for. Look for it. Cherish it.
5. Show yourself grace. Especially when you are going through something particularly tough, it's ok to have an "off day"...or week. Take time off from your "regular" activities to rest and recuperate and don't hold it against yourself. Don't let this last forever, though.
6. Admitting you have "problems" is ok. Everyone does. And if they say they don't...they're probably lying (to you or to themselves or both). Being open about things that are hard for you with someone close to you can really help. And...seeking professional help is a good thing too.
While I certainly didn't imagine myself "growing up to be" a 31-year-old divorcee, I'm moving past the bitterness and accepting my circumstances for what they are: a challenge that has helped shape me into who I am today. And...I'm excited. Excited for the future, both near and far. I am looking forward to pushing myself mentally and physically during my current off-season and to starting my 2014 race season stronger than ever. After all, the best of me is yet to come.
