Remember when I told y’all that I’m like Rain Man with dates? It’s both a blessing and a curse. Two years ago today I came home (It was a Friday) and kicked my husband out of our home. I’d found out he’d been lying about working, he’d been accused of committing a felony and he had been hiding it from me for months. He’d stolen a lot of money and also blown through our savings, yet couldn’t tell me where it had gone. I went to the bank, closed our joint checking, opened one of my own and collected the paperwork to take him off of our lease. Then I swooped in to drop the axe. When I came home he was blissfully walking back from the trash dumpster, in his favorite swim trunks, heading for the pool for a day of relaxation….while I was at work. Where I go every day. Because I’m a grown up and I know that lying and stealing are bad, m’kay?
Yeah, yeah….we know. Kicked him out, fell apart, started a blog, picked up the pieces and moved on. You know all that already, or if you don’t, this blog will line it all out for you so you can catch up on all the dirty details. Go nuts….we’ll wait.
You done? Ok. So here’s where this anniversary was different.
I. Fell. Apart.
Last Friday night. The day at work had been fine. I was in a great mood, it was Friday, it was payday and I had a great weekend in store, starting with a very hot date with The Writer. Only…I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be home, cocooning and under the covers in my bed, sipping from a bottle of Pinot Grigio. I found myself depressed, sad, angry and grieving all over again. WTF? Where the hell had that come from? I still don’t know. But I was in it, y’all.
And I was ashamed of feeling that way. I am the epitome of the song “I will survive” by Gloria Gaynor. Not last Friday, I wasn’t. I was confused, I was sad and I felt like shit about it because I was right back to that time right after the separation when I was shattered and empty. I went to The Writer’s because that’s what I’d committed to do and if I say I’m going to be somewhere I follow through. But it just wasn’t going very well and I wound up calling the evening short and coming home. Thankfully, The Writer understood and we talked about it for a good hour before I left. Our talk helped me put a few puzzle pieces in place for why I was feeling the way I was feeling but it didn’t ease the ache.
Once I home, I talked with my best girlfriends and we all agreed I needed to ugly face cry and get it out. So what’s a girl to do when she wants to start the tears that just won’t come?
She watches a sappy, sad chick flick guaranteed to get the water works going. I had a few choices.
- Terms of Endearment
- Out of Africa
You can see I was going in hard for a good, ugly cry. Only thing was that none of those movies are on Netflix. So I went with PS I Love You. If you’ve never seen it, it stars Gerard Butler and Hillary Swank. ***Spoiler Alert*** He dies of a brain tumor, but before he dies he arranges to send her letters for the first year, encouraging her and helping her grieve and heal.
So much crying!!! I began crying about 20 minutes in and didn’t stop for hours, even after the movie was over. I cried until after 2:00 am and even woke myself up crying some more until finally I took some Benadryl and put myself to bed for the night. The next morning, I woke up emotionally hung over, eyes stinging and puffy and my nose raw. It wasn’t pretty, y’all, but it needed to happen.
I still don’t know where that emotional hijacking came from or what it’s purpose was. Maybe it was the last little bit of emotional vomit that needed to come out so I can move completely on. I looked back in my journal to the first anniversary last year and of course it was all Bad Ass Boss Babe, proud of myself, strong, capable and grateful to be free of him. I have no explanation for why this year would be any different. But clearly, it was.
After that good, long cry I got together with my best girlfriends last night and we had some drinks, ate some food, talked a lot and caught up with each others lives. I feel completely back to normal now – the actual anniversary of D-Day. My reaction to this has been so strange and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed in my inner Bad Ass for taking her eyes off the road Friday night and letting me veer off into Sad Sack Blvd. It is what it is, though. I realize that feelings are feelings and sometimes we can’t control them. Sometimes they sneak up behind us and kick us straight in the big brass balls and that shit hurts. Sometimes we have to just let the feelings wash over us and ride the wave of sorrow and grief one more time for posterity.
I really wish I could reprogram my brain to not remember these dates like Rain Man. I’d rather blissfully roll through life with random memories that popped up, rather than vivid flash backs of these events that took such a toll on my heart. I guess at the end of the day, we all have our gifts and this happens to be one of mine. I know I have it for a reason and maybe some day I’ll figure out what that reason is.
Until then, I’m putting the sappy ugly face crying movies away and going back to YouTube for makeup videos and True Facts videos by @ZenFrank1. If you want to laugh – go check his videos out. They are guaranteed to make you snort laugh and you probably want to go pee before you watch them.
Next year on this anniversary I expect to have a much different reaction. I hope to be laughing, grateful and happy to be free and never take that side trip over to Sad Sack Blvd. again. I have to admit though, a long, heavy cry is good for the soul. My whole body hurts today though, like I’d been in a car accident or something.
Yeah….it was an ugly cry.