As time moved forward and the pre-teen years set in, I spent time replaying memories of nights out at the ice skating rink with friends, holding hands with my first boyfriend, reliving a first kiss, or going through the crazy fun and silly trouble my friends and I got into. On the days mom and dad caught me in some misdeed, I spent a significant amount of time replaying why it was so totally worth it or wondering if I would ever make it out of my punishment alive!
Somewhere along the way instead of replaying memories at night I learned to miss people. It probably started when my dad died. I was only 13 then. That's when I found going to sleep could be painful. If I wasn't missing my dad and wondering why, I was missing my friends from changing schools all the time. If I wasn't missing my friends, I was missing a boy I liked.
In college I had a boyfriend but he moved away. So, when I wasn't partying, when I couldn't do anymore school work, and when the daily grind was done, I'd come home - alone. He'd call and we'd talk until one of us fell asleep allthewhile missing one another.
At some point a month or two after my college boyfriend and I broke up I found I liked partying (via drinking) even though it wasn't really my jam before then. That part was fun. So, I kept the party going as much as I could. It felt good and subconsciously fixed a part of my life I didn't like - the mundane boring routine of doing what you're supposed to in life (instead of what you want to be doing in life) and then crawling into bed alone with your thoughts.
I learned that if you party enough, if you keep busy enough, if you just keep moving until you pass out enough that EUREKA! There are no more memories to replay! OMG Yes! There's no one to miss! There's no pain! Finally! Just fade to black ....and asleep I could go.
If it was a fun night of partying that helped me to pass out, then replaying parts I could remember in the morning at will and wondering what happened the night before became a fun game of phone a friend for giggles and fun conversation. Regardless of why exhaustion and passing out occurred, waking up panicked to tell yourself "oh sh*t! I'm late for work... class... meetings... the beach .. the pool...etc.." became part of the thrill. The adrenaline rush got me high and kept me feeling 'alive' for a long while.
Then, during this "F* it, it's my life, my rules" state of mind came the man I would marry. What could possibly be better than replaying memories before bed, not partying because you're broke, or missing someone? I'll tell you... It's having sex and cuddling with someone who says they love you until you fall fast asleep...followed by waking up next to them.
That part of life was fun for a while too (and clearly there was more to it to that) until the babies came and he found his exit.. i.e. work.. work.. and more work.. Then he was really gone. I married a fireman and he spent a significant amount of time away working overtime and picking up shifts which included overnights. Sure it was for good cause. No one is stating otherwise. But, in the story of my life, it's what I got used to.
I spent a lot of days and nights missing him even more than before because it felt like I had to do this whole 'raise kids' thing alone. All I wanted to do at that point was sleep because of the sheer exhaustion of having health issues, energy problems, an unsupportive husband, being an on-demand wife, and trying to keep up with two toddlers. I wasn't taking care of me - even though I was trying. I also wasn't getting the support I needed inside my marriage to function on any level as a human being because I was hiding that anything was wrong. (Mostly because I didn't know anything was wrong.)
Life settled in.
After years and years, there seemed to be nothing to think about except for how crappy things are or solutions to fix life. Long gone were the days of anything worth crawling into bed for to play over in my mind on instant replay. My marriage and the birth of my children riddled with nothing but unhappy memories of more trauma and heartbreak. A few bright moments here and there but all of which came crashing down...
Him and I got divorced seven years later.
I spent every waking night the months leading up to and following the divorce missing my life (the fraction of happy parts I created). I also missed my home, the idea of having a family, meanwhile knowing I needed to get out and trying to figure out how to create a new life. Then I met someone new. He seemed to be everything I could have wanted .... That man just so happened to live in the land of far far far away. Despite him and I were never in a romantic relationship, I did think about him - often. I had him in a text and I was super used to being alone by now. In fact I preferred it.
Everyone knows you can't help how you feel about someone, no matter how much you try. So, I enjoyed my freedom and the fun I was finally having but, every night before bed for 4 years I spent secretly missing him... replaying when we met, ideas and fantasies of what it would be like to have someone who loves me and who I love, and I did this while dating everyone and anyone I could so I could find some balance in my life not based on pain or unrequited love. I suppose I just needed my fix. I needed to think about something other than my real hurt. But missing someone you care for had its moments filled with equal amounts of pain and hope.
This guy was super ideal for me. Far enough away to not be able to depend on him so I could fix my life on my terms (and prove to myself and especially my ex that I could) and close enough to hope for him to come back - eventually - so I could have my happily-ever-after. I wanted him to save me while not saving me. And in his own way, he did. But, more than anything, I wanted to save myself. And I did that too. (That story is a book in itself.) Contradiction? You bet! Confusing for you... even more confusing for me to live it.
Two words: Cognitive Dissonance. [A term I've come to love that sums it all up.In the field of psychology, cognitive dissonance is the mental discomfort (psychological stress) experienced by a person who simultaneously holds two or more contradictory beliefs, ideas, or values.]
Eventually came when reality caught up with me that I couldn't have what I wanted. A place of belonging. Happy memories. A soul-connection just as much as a physical connection. I missed him.... or thoughts of him. But really I missed the ideals and Utopian dream of forever. This theme seems to have played out until one day I said, "F* this sh*t. I'm done."
I started daydreaming more and laying down at night even less. I'm a 24-hour woman. I always thought I was insanely ambitious (and I am) however I have to wonder if it's just been easier to keep going and not think... i.e. pass out?
Getting into bed to replay the bills you can't pay, the kids you can't spend time with, and the hurt that's been caused from every broken relationship along the way just doesn't feel like a good night sleep. It's exhausting. Why lay down to relive trauma?
I gave up dreaming about love, commitment, or anything related to family at age 33. I'm 36 now. So, if you add it all up that's 21 years worth of exhausting myself throughout my life all for the sake of not having to think about anything before bed.
Somewhere along this journey in the aftermath of love lost I intentionally began trying to forget my life all together - not just before bed. I started sleeping during the day to escape (instead of remember). I tried to erase all of me and start over. No more memories. I couldn't seem to remember the good anyway. What are memories worth if the good comes with the bad attached to it? What are memories worth if not to bring joy... happiness... peace?
Writing has always been an escape and a cure. It also became the only way to remember my life after a while. All that was left is to forget my day to day. Mission accomplished. I no longer remember unless I'm writing. But then, I stopped writing too...
It turns out you can cover up broken pieces
in sparkles and glitter and all that illuminates
be a hot mess
and still be something beautiful.
-I*V
-I*V
It's not like you know this is happening to you the way it's written above. Hindsight is 20/20. Sometimes you don't recognize how broken you are (still) until someone comes along and starts picking up all your pieces and putting you back together. They don't have to try to fix you. You may not even know that's what they're doing. They're just there. You're there for them too. Slowly, little by little things in your life start to change.
Them being around kicks off the dust to all the little hurts in your life you thought were discarded and said you didn't care about. Like the idea of having a family. Like wanting to be there for someone. Like wanting to deeply know the person you're sleeping with beyond a kinky shag here or there. But, apparently those hurts never got thrown away. They're still right there where you left them ...stuffed away... in a dark (already overfilled) closet of crap in the back of your mind.
For me, right now it feels like the door to the closet won't close anymore and all these little things I thought I discarded keep falling out. But... it's different this time ... because some of what is coming out is the really really good stuff. And I'm not sure how to handle that.
I've tried to explain time and time again to The Bearded Woodsman that I don't have memories. I don't remember the day before, let alone what I ate for breakfast. I don't make it a point to think about what we did hours ago or to daydream about forever. I never feel like I'm building anything - let alone a relationship. It's moment to moment. That's how I live. I'm not about to change that. I just keep moving to avoid getting stuck in emotional quicksand and sinking into what I call - life.
Perhaps my neurology is messed up? I can't seem to identify what I need or when. I never know if I'm hungry, or hurt, or pissed off, or lonely, or bored ... or just frustrated.... It simply plays out as super moody bitch mode or completely into it let's live the adventure full-throttle mode. There doesn't seem to be an in between.
Whatever is in front of me is what I'm focused on. It plays out in my business life, with my social life, and in my relationships. Even in the good times. So things get out of balance for me quickly and often. Because if it's not biting me in the face, I forget it's even there.
I forget to eat a lot of the time (#shesHangry) and sometimes can't figure out why my body doesn't let me know that I'm not losing my sh*t, I just need food. It's like when a baby cries and no one knows what it wants so you have to go through all the steps over and over and over again hoping to soothe whatever the problem seems to be... yea, that'd be me - often. Remembering to eat (and not live on Starbucks coffee) is my own weird psychological chore.
There is so much chaos consciously and subconsciously playing out in me daily that it's hard for me to keep up let alone allow and accept someone else seeing the mess inside the cyclone of my mind in real-time and in real-life. Why should I let anyone get so close? Yet, when it comes to The Bearded Woodsman, I suppose I let it happen out of necessity. Except the necessity in this situation was for his benefit, not mine, even if I am finding all kinds of feels along the way. He needed someone and a solution to a temporary problem. And... well, I know what that feels like. Even if I decided long ago that I don't need anyone, I remember what it felt like when I did need someone and they weren't actually there. In this situation I have to force myself to take pause from my mind and to make mental notes to try and remember things that should be, and would be important if he were someone to stay in my life - indefinitely.
That is hard for me to admit. It's hard to feel subhuman in how much effort it takes to come out of myself to try and be there for another on a level that requires continuous commitment to details (i.e. true reciprocal friendship). The desire to want to be there with him and for him and to try and be a normal human being for a change is forcing me to do something that I've since long forgotten how to do - remember.
It is hard for me emotionally.
It's hard for me mentally.
It's super f*ing hard for me. Period.
It's like I'm taking inventory of our time together. And I am. Because I'm the type of person who doesn't always understand the value of something until it's gone...and I know this about myself. But, I don't actually think I want this to be gone...
Trying really hard not to f* it all up even though I'm sure I totally could.
I've made it a point to get close to people but not too close. Keep it fun, keep it festive, and get out before anyone sees the side of me I don't want them to see. I feel a bit handicapped if you will. Like a person with Alzheimer or Dementia. I take notes and try and find reasons why I'd want to remember things. I have to make associations and often try to link to numbers of specific days if I can because it helps. I don't think that's normal. I do however, believe that's my norm of having been through all the trauma in my life and how I process the world around me these days.
I take in moments with him and his kids and tell myself to file this under "good memories, try your damndest to remember!" I'll say something to myself like, 'Pay attention. Jot this down. This may not be super meaningful in this moment but, I know one day if he weren't here anymore, I would want to replay this over and over again as a good/happy memory.' I also might say, 'Put this in your mental Rolodex and fight like mad not to forget.' The effort is there but the automated short-term memory doesn't seem to be. I still can't remember yesterday without excruciating effort.
But the other night was so f*ing different. It startled me in fact. I climbed into bed with The Bearded Woodsman even though I wasn't at all tired. I had a book to read but didn't reach for it. Instead I cuddled up with him as he went to sleep. I guess I just wanted to be next to him for while. To take in this moment. To relish in the fact that something so unintentional could add so much fulfillment to my life. It was my intention to get back up and work however, that didn't happen. Instead I found myself ....drumroll.... happy... to lay down and reminisce.
I've tried to explain time and time again to The Bearded Woodsman that I don't have memories. I don't remember the day before, let alone what I ate for breakfast. I don't make it a point to think about what we did hours ago or to daydream about forever. I never feel like I'm building anything - let alone a relationship. It's moment to moment. That's how I live. I'm not about to change that. I just keep moving to avoid getting stuck in emotional quicksand and sinking into what I call - life.
Perhaps my neurology is messed up? I can't seem to identify what I need or when. I never know if I'm hungry, or hurt, or pissed off, or lonely, or bored ... or just frustrated.... It simply plays out as super moody bitch mode or completely into it let's live the adventure full-throttle mode. There doesn't seem to be an in between.
Whatever is in front of me is what I'm focused on. It plays out in my business life, with my social life, and in my relationships. Even in the good times. So things get out of balance for me quickly and often. Because if it's not biting me in the face, I forget it's even there.
I forget to eat a lot of the time (#shesHangry) and sometimes can't figure out why my body doesn't let me know that I'm not losing my sh*t, I just need food. It's like when a baby cries and no one knows what it wants so you have to go through all the steps over and over and over again hoping to soothe whatever the problem seems to be... yea, that'd be me - often. Remembering to eat (and not live on Starbucks coffee) is my own weird psychological chore.
There is so much chaos consciously and subconsciously playing out in me daily that it's hard for me to keep up let alone allow and accept someone else seeing the mess inside the cyclone of my mind in real-time and in real-life. Why should I let anyone get so close? Yet, when it comes to The Bearded Woodsman, I suppose I let it happen out of necessity. Except the necessity in this situation was for his benefit, not mine, even if I am finding all kinds of feels along the way. He needed someone and a solution to a temporary problem. And... well, I know what that feels like. Even if I decided long ago that I don't need anyone, I remember what it felt like when I did need someone and they weren't actually there. In this situation I have to force myself to take pause from my mind and to make mental notes to try and remember things that should be, and would be important if he were someone to stay in my life - indefinitely.
That is hard for me to admit. It's hard to feel subhuman in how much effort it takes to come out of myself to try and be there for another on a level that requires continuous commitment to details (i.e. true reciprocal friendship). The desire to want to be there with him and for him and to try and be a normal human being for a change is forcing me to do something that I've since long forgotten how to do - remember.
It is hard for me emotionally.
It's hard for me mentally.
It's super f*ing hard for me. Period.
It's like I'm taking inventory of our time together. And I am. Because I'm the type of person who doesn't always understand the value of something until it's gone...and I know this about myself. But, I don't actually think I want this to be gone...
Trying really hard not to f* it all up even though I'm sure I totally could.
I've made it a point to get close to people but not too close. Keep it fun, keep it festive, and get out before anyone sees the side of me I don't want them to see. I feel a bit handicapped if you will. Like a person with Alzheimer or Dementia. I take notes and try and find reasons why I'd want to remember things. I have to make associations and often try to link to numbers of specific days if I can because it helps. I don't think that's normal. I do however, believe that's my norm of having been through all the trauma in my life and how I process the world around me these days.
I take in moments with him and his kids and tell myself to file this under "good memories, try your damndest to remember!" I'll say something to myself like, 'Pay attention. Jot this down. This may not be super meaningful in this moment but, I know one day if he weren't here anymore, I would want to replay this over and over again as a good/happy memory.' I also might say, 'Put this in your mental Rolodex and fight like mad not to forget.' The effort is there but the automated short-term memory doesn't seem to be. I still can't remember yesterday without excruciating effort.
But the other night was so f*ing different. It startled me in fact. I climbed into bed with The Bearded Woodsman even though I wasn't at all tired. I had a book to read but didn't reach for it. Instead I cuddled up with him as he went to sleep. I guess I just wanted to be next to him for while. To take in this moment. To relish in the fact that something so unintentional could add so much fulfillment to my life. It was my intention to get back up and work however, that didn't happen. Instead I found myself ....drumroll.... happy... to lay down and reminisce.
I don't know what clicked in me but something definitely did...
Laying next to him that night felt like I was 9 years old and had just been to DisneyWorld replaying all the fun I had earlier that day. I am starting to feel all these memories. I'm aware and processing life. I literally felt as I did when I was a child. It was nothing out of the ordinary anyone would make a mental note of. In fact, there was a lot of frustration. It was just dinner. How many dinners have I been to with my kids? But something about it...The night was so simple, and silly, and ... meaningful even if only to me. It felt - real. It was as if something in me was effortlessly asking to remember those moments. I didn't have to try. They were just there.
More and more I've started to remember things lately. How him and I met ...how we ended up hanging out together ... the ups and downs ... and the absolute reDICKulousness of it all laughing about who knows what at god knows what hours. All this coupled with my incessant need to let it all go as if it never happened. Yet, somehow the feel good memories keep circling back around. This is all so confusing to me at times. Mostly because it reminds me of being married - something I've long since gotten over.
Often I feel like I can't handle the boring, the mundane, the chore-like stuff that couples do. I've been living a fantasy life for a while now. The kind where you dress up, show up all sparkly, get what you need, give what they want, and disappear for a while until they call again. It's a life that doesn't need anyone to do things with, that doesn't ask for permission, and makes no apologies. But, I've been having flashbacks to my marriage...my house.... my life. The life I left behind. Do I really want something like this again? Because this feels all too real.
It wasn't like being married was all bad all the time. But even so, every good thing I start to remember about marriage is followed by immeasurable amounts of pain and remembering what happens next. The arguing. Being broke. Trying to depend on one another and the constant let downs. Promises being broken. And that's just what I'd consider a normal marriage to look like.
Being in a toxic relationship with someone means the good is only good until it goes bad. You plan for it. You know it's coming. You don't ever have to wonder if the shoe will drop because you can expect it to. In fact, knowing the bad is coming is the only thing you can truly depend on in a marriage such as that. And that was my life.
Walking away from that type of relationship isn't easy because it plays out over and over and over again with an ex in every text communication or email or court filing about the kids. When does it end? When do the flashbacks and the emotional roller coaster of a bad marriage stop and the new memories replace what was so that I can have what will be?
It's hard to see relationships any other way when that's all you know, even though you see it played out differently with friends or family and on TV.
Is it possible that I am in a healing process? Because the more The Bearded Woodsman and I are together, the more I start remembering fun things we've done... that I'm alive ... and that perhaps there's something to be said for investing once again in the human experience.
If I could master how to live a life filled with pain, how much more could I live in a life filled with happiness? With laughter? With someone to rely on who can also rely on me?
If I smack the good memories from the now together with the bad memories of a failed marriage and subtract the fact I want to remember absolutely nothing about being married, it makes things insanely confusing. Is my psyche merging or splitting? Am I healing or is this a word of warning?
This relationship isn't based on pain and that's a new experience for me. I'm taking it minute by minute to process what this feels like. As of today I'm not sure.
This is such a different experience in contrast to curling up in bed and overthinking, wondering how someone feels, or plotting how soon you can get rid of someone which would be nearly ever other man I've found myself with over the last six years.
Not having a relationship based on drama, problems, or highs and lows is new to me. It has taken me a great deal of patience (as I'm sure it has for him too) to get used to. I started trying to hide who I am (as if he didn't already know) because I don't actually want this to end even though in the beginning I was adamant to ride the tide until it fizzled out. Life is just better when he's around. I can feel that welling up in my throat and it stays there and it hurts me. I wish I knew why.
I must tell that man I love you at least three dozen times a day but, I only say it in my head. I can't say it out loud. It hurts me. And I don't know why. It hurts me now even typing it. Yet, I can feel how much I feel when he's around. And that part doesn't hurt. That part feels really really really good for a change. It's not a needy love. It's not that rush to love I'm talking about or the chemical fix of feel goods. It's the slow and steady pace of real conversation. Of understanding. Of not ditching out just because you don't have your sh*t together, or because they don't have their sh*t together.
I admit it was easier to talk to him when I wasn't counting on (hoping for) him to be around as much. I don't know what to say much of the time anymore because I still feel like I have to hide all that's broken inside me. I just wanted to be a good person and give someone who needed what I had to give a place to stop and rest for a while. I didn't ever dream in a million years that I would want him to stay. I didn't know you can fall in love with children the way you fall in love with someone else... and I mean that in the purest of ways. Because my idea of love is simply wanting to be there with someone, and for someone, no matter what they're going through. There's no expectation of return other than mutual shared respect, care, and understanding for one another's being. No blaming, shaming, or making one another feel bad about who they are.. or as if they aren't on the same team. Call it Utopian but, it's how I feel about this situation. And it truly scares the f* out of me. Didn't I already go through this once? Wasn't I already living this fantasy only to realize that I still have scares and self-doubt based on how much someone (my husband) hated me?
Going through this experience with someone new, letting someone be a part of my life - a real part - and see all the mess of me makes me wonder just how much I've never been loved the way a girl (a wife) deserves to be. It makes perfect sense why I never bother to look back. What should have been happy memories of a marriage and having two children were laced in pain, arguments, and the a devaluing of my human existence. I was there to serve and on occasion be served, but only into whatever fantasy my ex was playing out at the time.
I can't remember the last time I felt anything meaningful or had memories, other than a few great moments with some pretty cool people. None of which lasted long. But more and more, my past gets erased and new memories come out to play with ease. Even ones I thought I couldn't remember. Every time I effortlessly remember something The Bearded Woodsman and I do, I find myself taking pause to notice I feel different. That's when I realize, I'm smiling. It's as if small fragments of my life gets restored and replaced with happy moments worth being replayed while laying down to sleep instead of the pain that stays hidden and tucked away. It's as if I get to keep something for me that's happy long-term. And more and more without effort. Perhaps my life is changing in a powerful and positive way ... And I dig that. It makes me want to get my sh*t together so I can build the life I want for me... and if he stays, then perhaps he was just as important to my life as I was to his. Reciprocal. Well, this is a first. - I*V
Originally Written on August 16, 2017
