The kickass survival site for anyone who's ever been lied to, cheated on and left for dead.
"Whenever my husband is late coming home, I figure he's either having an affair or he's dead. I always hope he's dead."~Anonymous
I notice that no one has written a reply to this post. Funny it is, maybe, on the right day, one of those really good ones. But on the wrong one, too early, or too triggered, it could cut too deep to the bone. My mom has been my great counselor. She is a shoulder for many people. She has been for me since the moment I was born, always there for the tough discussions and the brutal honesty.A couple of months before I was hit my (or “our” when I include all the pain that my mother has taken on for me) DD day, my mother was aware of an acquaintance who’s two daughters were each facing their own dilemma – within a couple of months one had swiftly and tragically lost her husband to death and the other had been faced with her husband leaving her for another woman. This mother is there for her two daughters, watching them and trying to be a shoulder for them. Seeing each in their individual turmoil this was a question for her – which situation in life was easier, which was harder, how could she help each in a distinctive way – a mother struggling to support her daughters under the weight of their remarkable pain.I had this discussion with my mother, very early on and on a bad day. On that day I thought death would be easier. I said to her “It would keep all of the memories intact.” I could be sad but everything, every little corner of our life together, would still be precious. I wouldn't interrogate moments which were precious to me and re-frame them, I would reinforce them and put them on a pedestal. I could wax lyrical and storytell of events for my children forever to come. It is harder to do that in the state of greyness after betrayal.It has taken a little time, but I am slowly (very slowly) getting to the point where I realize that I don’t have to re-frame. Those moments were precious to me. Those moments were precious to my children. It is a shame that we were not all in on them together. So if we are to do what I want to do - and that is move forward and try to find our collective path again – we have to make more memories to pile on those old memories and hopefully we can all be in on them. On a good day I see this as my luck, my children’s luck, our luck. We have not been hit with a great and huge tragedy. We are a bit broken and cut, but with some care, the right medicine and time, it will heal, scar and fade into our skin.A great big grey cloud was over us, but some of us were dancing in the rain together. Hopefully in the future we will all be dancing together and smiling and laughing with each other. So, today (a really much better day) my answer is very different than it was on that day in conversation with my mother. She is glad to hear it.I wish the same for you all – a really good day – today and tomorrow and onwards.
Thank-you for that. I sounds as if you've done a lot of work to get yourself to a place where you can recognize what you have in your life. That you've been wounded but can recover. Elle
Elle,Thanks. It took many days and many mini good moments to compose that. If you knew which were my other posts you might think I was schizophrenic, but as we all are, getting there through the ups and downs. Thank you for this website and for your always kind responses.