Hallo-weenie!

Halloween was yesterday. The neighborhood that I live in is usually the hot spot for trick or treaters. This year, it was a total wash out. Literally! It rained the whole freaking day and my kids were disappointed, and I was disappointed. It was the first time in my entire life that I have not gone out for trick or treating. I felt bad for my daughter. She was so psyched to show off her creepy side and gather candy dressed as Chucky! I painted her face and splashed fake blood, the whole shebang. Due to the crummy weather, I had two kids who had expectations that werent met and now I have a ton of candy left over. I was determined to make it a little fun though. I put Thriller by Michael Jackson on the TV and we danced around for approximately 13 minutes. I told the kids (my 3 nephews were here too) that if they danced, I would rain candy down. So they got up and shook their cute booties and did Fortnite dances and all that jazz and I showered them with a bunch of single serving goodness down on their heads. It was excellent.

I wasnt actually planning on writing this week. I've felt a little down and couldnt place my finger on it as to why. As I type up this blog, I still don't know why I have this ache that seems to come an go as the days pass. But I do have a few theories. I just wanted to flesh them out so they dont live and then and die and decay in my mind. Maybe its just the nature of where my life is a the current moment. Just like my kids expectations that werent met on Halloween, my expectations of what I wanted or thought my life would be at now were broken. The thing is, I dont want to wallow in my disappointments. They need to be acknowledged. They arent to be ignored. I dont want to come out of this season of my life with any more emotional baggage than I already have to carry. Shit is heavy. I dont want to have to dig through regret or emotions that should of been dealt with years from now and have to feel the way Ive felt the past few months ever again. I want to be healthier. I cant help that Ive been hurt. But I can handle my hurt wisely. Or at least try to.

I dont want to speak ill of my ex husband via social media. I dont want to bash him or embarrass him, or post humiliating or private things things about him. Its not that Im trying to take the higher road. I just dont want to. I have no wish to drag his name through the mud or make vague posts about him. If theres anything Ive learned through this divorce its that nothing in my life is about him anymore. There are things we share that can never be severed, no matter distance or behavior, or even if him or myself really, really, really wish it other wise. The only thing that will say is that its hard to look at a relationship or a person and see a stranger where you once saw a home.

I was thinking about my disappointment in things. And I kept berating myself, thinking I had no right to be disappointed. That there were things in my breaking of marriage that the blame lays entirely at my feet and its hard to look in the mirror and know this. Then I get the other feeling that I am only prolonging healing by being disappointed in him or in the circumstances or myself. What Ive come to realize as I filter through all the crap and truths and lies and terrible self talk and the podcasts and audio books is this: It matters that Im disappointed because I MATTER. I matter as a mom, as an ex wife, and as a person. My feelings of disappointment arent invalid just because they were unjustly served to me or even if they are the result of my own foolish hand. My feelings matter! They matter people! They matter because I matter.

I have felt like I havent mattered for such a long time. I am unsure if its due to the heartbreak of my broken marriage before and after divorce, or my relationships, or my past or things unrelated to me or what. I didnt realize how low I thought of myself until I wasnt wallowing in the self pity of losing everything that was important to me. I remember this feeling, sitting on my couch, watching my soon to be ex husband gather his belongings to leave. I remember the hot tears, spilling down on my red tshirt, and feeling this hollowness, this acid in my chest, burning and blistering, staring at the emptiness of my future. I remember thinking that Ill never be happy again. I remember thinking that this is the way I will always feel for the rest of my life. Shameful. Broken. Worthless. Unlovable.

And when I woke up the next morning, those feelings were still there. And then a week later, they were still there. And a month later, you guessed it, still there.

I cant tell you exact time or morning or event that happened that shifted my thoughts. There were many different things and the more I think about it, I think its the accumulation of all these things that gather momentum and start the process to feeling like life isnt over. At least is was for me. It was the constant conversation from friends, asking how I feeling, how Im doing, and inviting me to hang out. My girlfriends who had my back, so strongly and fiercely that I knew that I wasnt a total screw up if I can have these amazing people be there for me during the worst period of my life. I had to of done something right, right? It was paying 100% of my share of the bills, on time and in full. Satisfaction at being an adult is pretty empowering. Who knew? It was my daughters warm snuggles and soft sighs when she sleeps next to me, knowing that her life is still good because I worked my ass off during these few trying months to ensure that the destruction of my marriage with her father did not rupture fundamental things we instilled in her. It was my sons smile in telling me that hes been having a lot of good days recently and hes in a happier mood lately. To hear him tell me he wants to learn to cook because he wants to help out more around the house. All warm fuzzy feelings.

To be honest, I think the feeling that Ive been having lately is just the syphoning away of an old life. There are parts that are still attached to me and I feel them pulling away, like dead skin after a sunburn. They used to be a vital part of me but they are dead and its time to move on and grow. And I am happier. I am healthier. I am a better mom and a better friend. I know that God has had his hand in the restructuring of my life. Its scary and sad and wonderful and gratifying and empowering and wonderful and terrifying all the time same time. I am more thoughtful and slightly less impatient. And hopefully by next Halloween, my writing will be about how sore my arms are from lugging arounds my kids excess of candy after a totally epic night of trick or treating. Cheers to more candy!