Tag: moving on

Anxiety..You bitch..

 

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Divorce–reality. Here I am. 4 1/2 years later. Can you believe that?

I woke up in a cold sweat this morning… 6 am on a Sunday. Anxiety you bitch…I can always count on you…always by my side. Money…kids…work. How to change the lightbulbs in the Chandelier over the stairs. Who the fuck put a Chandelier over the stairs that requires a 12 foot ladder, accident insurance and maximum flexibility to change the bulb? Let’s safely assume it was a man. But anyway…I shall lay here worrying about it. That will help. I will worry…and feel anxious and lament my current circumstances. This is a perfect solution! Then I will get up and eat some of my kids old Christmas candy for breakfast.

Here is a short run down of what my current circumstances entail.

1. 42ish year old divorced mother of 3 with 10 extra pounds and anxiety issues . Single white female. Working mother…blah blah blah.

2. I have currently no lights on my stairs because I don’t have a ladder that will reach…. And somehow while laying in bed at (now) 6:30 on a Sunday morning after eating chocolate for breakfast and going back to bed- my ‘lightlessness’ is a direct result of my divorce. (It’s like that game I heard about one time where everyone in Hollywood can be linked to Kevin Bacon in 3 steps. But in my life- the divorce is Kevin Bacon…) Rationale as follows- 1) Husband leaves me for his lawyer girlfriend 2) get divorced 3) move to new house with chandelier over stairs and no ladder.

I know that many will tell me to move on and move up. Or whatever… And I am! I’m trying. I’m moving. Constantly moving. Sometimes forward. Sometimes backwards..a lot of times in circles. But I AM moving.

Divorce is a process. Divorce is ‘the gift that keeps on giving.’ It gives you anxiety. It gives you regrets. It also gives you hope for something better to come along. An ongoing process for a woman who finds herself maneuvering life as an unexpected Uno. And that process is my life.

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Divorce Shoes….

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My divorce shoes… I had divorce shoes. I still do! They were heels. After my X moved out I was devastated. It took me months to even begin to wrap my head around what was happening. As I began to fight my way out of the fog… I discovered my divorce shoes. I don’t remember how it happened- but it might be one of the all time hands down best accidental discoveries of my entire life. I wore high heels. Everywhere. Black ones, blue ones, even red. Wedges. Boots. Fancy ones. All kinds! No discrimination here. If they were heels I wore them. Leopard print and patent leather. Sparkly and suede. Some were expensive…most were not. I remember seeing a friend one time who mentioned that another friend had seen me at the grocery store….’WEARING HEELS.’ Yes- my shoes were that noteworthy. They were receiving third party sightings.

Divorce is always hard. When your husband leaves you for his lawyer girlfriend…brutal. I felt the rejection deeply. It hurt. I felt fat and frumpy and pathetic. I was invisible. My shoes made me feel better. They were one high heeled step in the right direction. They helped revive that tiny spark of pride buried deep inside. I wore those shoes with determination. The worse I felt the higher they got. No more house wife uniform of sweat pants and sketchers. No way… This chic was wearing heels to Walmart! At one point I would have ran a friggen marathon in those shoes. I actually wore them around my house. For no reason. By myself.  On Sunday afternoons. I held my head high and got dressed with purpose. No more slouchy comfortable shoes for me. My life was no longer comfortable…and I had the shoes to prove it. By God if I can survive a divorce with 3 kids- I can wear 3 inch heels at the f***ing mall. Bring it. Comfort isn’t always the most important thing- sometimes its survival- in whatever form that may be.

Divorce shoes…I love you. You were always there for me…