Tag Archives: soulmate

Reformation

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted and there are far too many reasons to explain why.  Ultimately, I am finding that blogging is getting harder instead of easier.  I realized that while I started this blog as an attempt to try and explore myself and write my own story, that instead I ended up writing the story of my marriage.  Which, I will never understand, has been easier.  The story of my bipolar marriage is not a fun one to tell, I struggle every day with what my love for my husband means and what his love for me means.  I struggle with the concept of a soul mate… whether mine really does exist out there.  I struggle with the lack of solid support in my life, I struggle with strength of self.  I struggle with the idea that I have settled for a life less than what I imagined it should be.  A very good friend remarked that having an oppressive marriage feels at times like your life is being stolen away from you, day by day, hour by hour.  I’ve felt that way.

But.

In the beginning of my blog journey, I wanted to to explore myself.  I wanted to tell my stories.  I didn’t want to harp and hound my marital circumstances.  I don’t think they will change, regardless of what drastic measures do or do not happen.  I don’t think my marriage is ever going to change.  I think this is the life I chose for myself and am still choosing to live in for the moment and so that I need to make the most of it.  I don’t mean this quite as cliche as it sounds.  It just is.  I’ve not accepted inexcusable behavior, nor will I fight for myself any less.  I am a different, stronger person than I was when I met my husband and that is irreversible.

For now, I need to stop focusing on what I can’t change.  I need to focus on what I can change.  The blog was titled “the colors of me” because I wanted to tell my stories.  I have so many stories to tell.  Telling them will no doubt bring me closer to myself.  I need to be there, I need to understand what makes my heart beat before I go blaming someone else for not making it beat stronger.  My strength needs to come from within.

I have come a long way in my search for understanding.  I’m still young and I have a long life ahead of me.  I also have a past that is filled with family secrets, denial, shame, fear, hypocrisy, tragedy, and abuse.  I need to write these stories down.  I’ve told them… many times… to many friends and therapists.  I don’t think I’ve ever told them to myself… so I’m going to make a promise to myself to start telling myself these stories in an effort to get to know myself through them.  They are ugly stories, but they are necessary truths that I must embrace.

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Courage and Cravings

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”
― Maya Angelou

Blogging can be lonely as hell.  So can marriage.  Let me tell you, I don’t know what keeps me writing or fighting sometimes.  Is it courage?  Or insanity?  What makes me so scared to start saving money and making this divorce happen?  What makes me believe that there could still be hope?  I feel these days like I’m slowly coming apart at the seams despite my incredible determination not to.  I believe it’s just exhaustion… shear exhaustion.  Exhaustion from years of trying to explain myself and the problems to my husband.  Years.  YEARS.
“Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.” ― Dale Carnegie

“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.”
― Mary Anne Radmacher

“Things don’t go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be.”
― Samuel Johnson

He is trying.  I can tell.  In the last few days there have been some signs of a fundamental change.  I know it will not happen over night.  The only problem with it is that it is so incredibly late.  I want to feel grateful and relieved and “back to normal.”  I want to crave him… but I don’t.

The only thing I crave these days are my dreams.  I’ve been having recurring dreams of the one that got away; rather, the one that almost was.  The one that was my best friend.  The one that wouldn’t leave the room unless he knew that I felt at least better… until I felt understood and heard.  The one that could hug me and make the world disappear.  In my dreams, he’s been doing that.  He’s been hugging me, and I’ve finally been able to feel his intimate touch and his lips against mine.  It has been my saving grace in the middle of the night… compensation for the lack of affection and security I feel with my husband.  A good friend told me that he is showing up in my life to remind me that it is possible for me to be loved that way – that it’s out there.  Of course, I spend a lot of time (too much time?) imagining that he sometimes dreams of me as well… that he wonders if he made the right choice.  I wonder if he thinks about me and longs to know what it would’ve been like to grow and travel the world with me.  It seems like he’s living the life I was meant to live, somehow.  Whatever the reason he has come back into my life, even if only fantastically, I am so grateful for it.  I am grateful for those dreams that feel so real I wake up feeling comforted and loved.


Epiphany

“I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.”  – Neil Gaiman

It’s no secret why this struck me.  I’m fairly passionate about education and in particular the list of things that we aren’t taught.  This quote stayed with me through the night last night.  I also thought about it on the way to work this morning while listening to my Adele cd, given to me by my husband.  I thought of my imaginary life… the one that I’d have lived if my college sweetheart had chosen me.  I thought of the post he wrote on his most recent anniversary to his wife.  “These have been the best years of my life.”

I don’t think I feel any differently.  The years I’ve spent with my husband have been the best years of my life.  I think it is possible to say such a thing, and still imagine better years.  I thought at this point in my life things would be more defined.  Thanks to my friend Walt Disney, I really believed that love and marriage and even friendship was pretty cut and dry.  You care, you love, you marry, you’re happy.  Life isn’t that simple.  I’d like to start this new year off with a mission to accept the grey areas in my life.  I think it may help my marriage.  I want to be okay with wondering how my life would’ve been “if only” because the more life I live, the more I realize that nothing is as it seems.  Nothing.

I have thus decided that this grey sea I swim in is not all that bad, and certainly not abnormal.  I think I’ll start embracing the unknown parts of myself with this new understanding.  Am I head over heals in love with my life and happy and 100% sure about every area of my life?  Is anyone?  I think my latest “key to life” revelation is that life is a series of in-between moments and it’s up to us to make the best of them.

Happy New Year!


Stick a Fork in My Emotional Marshmallow!

Seriously. I have no idea when I’ll regain sanity… maybe never. I’m pretty convinced after this week that I must be the only person on earth who is truly stuck in a loveless, seemingly pointless marriage. I thought things had gotten better…. hence the reason I haven’t exactly been loyal to my bipolar marriage web blog.

Well. As usual, we are slowly creeping back to normal again… fights about nothing that turn into something that turn into something bigger that leave me calculating just how much money I should be saving every paycheck… and if the $5 a week that I could afford to save means that I may as well just suck it up anyway b/c I’ll be at least 50 by the time I actually can afford to truly, truly regain sanity and find my TRUE soulmate that I’m convinced is somewhere out there secretly writing love songs (for me only) and distributing them among my favorite artists and having radio stations/Pandora play them only when I am already an emotional marshmallow!!!

I digress. Or should I? I really wish that I could ask people on facebook who write sentimental messages to their significant others what it’s “really” like for them when they aren’t broadcasting their bliss? It can’t possibly be that the past lovers – or almost so – in my life are not actually pining away for me just like I do for them when I’m convinced my husband is the world’s largest and most clueless ass on the planet.

My bubble burst a bit today as I read the post of an almost lover that talked about the years he has spent with his wife as “the best of his life.” Is it wrong that I’m not happy for him? Haha, of COURSE I’m happy for him. And, I’m sure, that every once in a good while, he does think of me when he hears that one Adele song… and he remembers what it felt like to ALMOST embrace me and to ALMOST make mad passionate love to me…

Right? Sigh…. See what I mean? Not sure when I’ll regain sanity. I asked my neighbor last night if this is actually how marriage “is.” She gave the best answer anyone’s ever given me on the topic… that, of course, it is. And that sometimes she stops and looks around and asks herself, “Am I on planet Earth?” Made me laugh… and if she hadn’t been there it probably would’ve made me cry too!

She also said something (well many things, I love my wise neighbor!) that I think may be the key to at least regaining a LITTLE sanity to make it to the next Anniversary anyway (which is less than 2 weeks away). Wisdom passed on to her is this re: what a man really needs:

We, as women, need an entire afternoon of affection and attention to feel loved and affectionate in return. Men only need about 3 minutes… generally right after they’ve “agreed” to “hold” you – which almost always means that you are “agreeing” to “hold” (their penis) back. So, perhaps if I can try (and it will take effort) to sacrifice these 3 minutes…a… little more often… I’ll be a happier wife?

Funny/sad/horrifying thing is that it makes me LOL to think that I’d ever get a whole afternoon in return without having to beg for it. Blah. I’m sick of being sick of it!