In life we get these moments that string together and make us who we are. That’s what life is, a big run on sentence of moments. What’s strange about going through a divorce, is losing all of the good moments. Because obviously the relationship had them, right? I mean you did fall in love with each other. Back before you were blocking each other’s phone numbers and deleting their naked pics out of your phone. Right? Did you dream that? Moments snuggled up in the morning, before the kids were awake, whispering silly things to each other. GONE. Not just the moment, but THAT person is gone. It’s like the person you knew died, except you get to fucking fight with the ghost of them! And fault, ha! Fault is such an easy thing to assign. Truth is, it’s my fault. It’s his fault. It’s OUR fault. It was never one moment that led to the fall of Rome. It obviously wasn’t the good moments that led us down this road. It was the moments we walked our own roads instead of walking home, together. One team. Without being united, we stood as an easy target. Now I hear the hatred in every thing you say. It pierces me to know I made decisions that make you speak to me this way. But you’ve always spoken this way to me when you were angry, the only thing new is the hate. And I feel it. It cuts me. It’s doing what you want it to. But not for the same reasons. I used to hate knowing you were angry at me, but now I just hate that we hurt each other. I hate that you think you never mattered to me. I hope that subsides over time and you remember those mornings. Because I don’t want to feel like I wasted ten years of my life in something that ended in hatred. I want to learn from our mistakes. I want to make sure I water and feed the trust moving forward. I want to learn from the mean words that floated between us, because you really can’t take them back. I don’t want to spend another night in a panic attack on the bathroom floor because I said the wrong thing and you turned your phone off. You’re an addiction I can’t feed, it’s no good for me. I read your words again, I can tell I hurt you, because you’re slashing. I know you. I had to fly from here. I read your words. I have to delete them all. I can’t let them be all over my week anymore. I’m standing now. I can do this.
Each moment of your life builds a chain, a hallway on a journey somewhere. Destinations aren’t always known as the path starts to twist and turn on you. I find myself so very often wondering about my road. There are a lot of stories behind me. A lot of mistakes, regrets and misfortunes. But there are just as many beautiful tales in my book as well. Chapters seem to be reading faster these days, I’m not sure why my sense of time is so hyper aware currently, but it is. My daughters are rushing right into adulthood at an alarming rate. Not only that, but I can sense myself getting older because hooking up and getting the right channel on the television is getting harder and harder… why are there 7 remotes? Ugh. Yes, that was a tangent, but I do that. That’s actually exactly how the hallways of my mind became so cluttered. I turn, and weave and curiosity has a tendency to grab and shake me before it redeposits me back on my course. I always land changed.
I recently read a blog about a girl who was going through a break up, because she intimidated people, she was told she was too much, ridiculous, over thinking things all the time. I wondered how many times I had thought the same things she was feeling. One of the worst things I’ve ever heard are the words, “you’re being crazy,” said when I was trying to genuinely explain how I felt about something. I’m not sure how much time I’ve actually debated with myself over the words of someone I love telling me, I’m crazy. I used to write a lot, it freed me. But then it became something that I had to explain to people, because a blog had bothered them, they took it personally. I became censored. A word that drives me bat-shit crazy. I’m a journalist! Censored. FUCK.
You know what’s craziest to me… those moments… the good ones. They always seem to fade in comparison to the bad, until time has started to go by. Then the good ones seem to resurface and remind you of what was great about something. Not in a, ohhhh I would love to do this again way, but more of an… oh yea, that’s right… that was a great day. I have that stupid Timehop app on my phone, and I haven’t decided if it is a good thing or a bad thing in my life right now. I get pictures from a year ago, football parties at our house, us as a couple, smiling and happy…. then I get reminders that 4 years before that we were split up and I was about to go to Italy, and he was going to his girlfriends house. Moments of hate. Moments of love. Just normal moments mixed in as well. Soccer games. Pictures hung in the hallway. Moments further back, before him, the girls and I alone. Times back in Florida, moments I have forgotten actually. The words, “you’re overreacting,” play in my mind. Maybe I always do. Maybe I’m crazy.
I think of the love I’m feeling now. The wonder mixed with the raw hurt. How you can mourn something and feel something new and enchanting all at once. Earlier today I watched the movie Serendipity, and there’s a scene in it when Sarah is telling Jonathan that Serendipity is one of her favorite words, and he says, “Why?” with pure curiosity on his face. Every day since I have known Stuart… since high school, when he asks me why, about something I love, it’s with that same curious expression. He wants to know, because my answer is a little more insight to… me. My thoughts feel rambled. I know that’s how they appear on the screen as well. Maybe sometimes you just have to throw them out there, and see what sticks. I know that how I feel is different, as love always is. Each time. Something in you changes. Pieces break. What I love about him is completely different character traits than I’ve ever even looked for in another person… maybe that’s because he’s always been my person and actively in my life. To be honest, I’m not even sure. This road is long and twisty, my GPS is down, and it’s not bright enough to see my map. I’ve got to move off of sheer gut instinct at this point. And it leads to you.
Seems a long damn time since I picked up a pen… or a keyboard… mostly because when there’s one in my hand lately, I want to throw it through a mirror. A wall. A building. Doesn’t matter. There’s a monkey on my back, and the withdrawals are a bitch. Guess that’s the way that writing has always worked in my life. I have once again found myself in the middle of a divorce. In the middle of financial meltdown. In the middle of searching for myself.
Waves keep on pounding the sand though, and my feet keep me moving. Every time I start to think I made a crazy decision and that my life was simple, beautiful and … enough… that I should just suck it up, I get punched with another uppercut to the jaw, and it sets my feet back in motion. You know why? Because at the end of the day, I fucking matter. Took a dear sweet friend saying that to me yesterday about his own life, for me to hear the words. I matter.
Not the same way black lives matter. Or white lives matter. Or labs matter. Something else entirely. This is about me, dammit. Birthdays keep on coming. People around me keep doing whatever the fuck they want and waiting for me to clean up their messes, or telling me about them, or just making them and leaving them… but regardless… I digress. The point is… I’m 35 mfers. It’s my time. Me time. Jeanna-thirty. Ok, that was a little far.
I named this post through the looking glass, for two reasons. When I was a kid, I HATED ALICE IN WONDERLAND. HATED. LOATHED. It made no damn sense at all. However, since I fell through the rabbit hole of life, passing books, pictures, maps, touches, tastes; moving too quickly to grab on to anything…. only to hit the floor and need to be small, then becoming small to realize I left something way out of my reach…. ohhhh the irony is not fucking lost on me at all.
But my Alice, she’s a little twisted. She’s tatted, and edgy, and sassy.
When I stop and glance around my life, I see the things I have succeeded at, but I see my flaws too. They’re there. NICE… They’re there…. anyway. They are. And instead of standing here crying about them, I am changing them. Changing the things that broke me down. Changing the things that keep me from shining. Bringing things back into my life that make me sparkle. If I am going to keep on this journey through the looking glass, I’m taking my cat, the rabbit, and the hatter with me. Bringing some fucking friends for the ride. And I am taking the queen of hearts, cause she is after all, just in my imagination.
Spoiled rotten little American kids, they whine, complain, and stomp their feet to get what they want. I’ve figured out what has happened. I am about to give you all the answers. People keep saying generations keep going softer, and softer, and softer. But what’s different? What has happened?
Divorce. Divorce is what is destroying the people of our country. Okay, now hear me out, because I know you are all rolling your eyes.
60 years ago, the divorce rate was practically non-existent. However, in the time since, it’s gone to nearly 3 out of every 4 marriages will end in divorce. Those statistics are enough to make most, not even want to bother. Now how is this affecting the country?
Well, when couples divorce there are many things that happen after that point:
1. Kids lose their tiers of stability and become untrusting of long-term things.
2. Kids develop pent-up aggression that they do not know how to relieve themselves of.
3. Parents remarry, possibly into relationships where other kids are present.
4. Now kids have step siblings that they are supposed to act like blood relatives towards, that they aren’t.
5. Kids hierarchy structures are changed, oldest kids can become the youngest, or a middle child at random casting.
6. Parents weaken their discipline practices because they cannot understand the contempt and hatred in their childs face.
7. Parents have a hard time disciplining other people’s children, either punishing them to extremes, or not at all.
8. These kids grow up, untrusting of relationships, go through their own divorces and the cycle repeats.
9. Parents, regardless of what they say or try to believe, will never be able to love all the kids equally.
10. Kids have learned to cope in this situation by manipulating parents feelings of guilt.
The family structure has been destroyed. There is no longer Christmas at Grandma’s house with your entire family… families now have 2, 3, sometimes 4 different Christmases. Kids have multiple birthdays, so they can celebrate with all of their removed family. They get whatever is on their list, because their parents fight over trying to provide the best presents so that they can feel a little less guilty about destroying their child’s faith in….well faith in just about everything.
People have become to used to losing in-laws. People are no longer attached, to their people anymore. If you aren’t happy, you can just leave. If you don’t like these people, you can just find new people. They walk away. They quit. They give up. Give in. Don’t give at all.
I’ve done this. I walked away. Now I’ve been in a relationship for 8 years that includes step children for me. I’ve watched my own parents divorce, and realized that even at 32 years old, you’re still ever the child when it comes to what is happening between parents. You think you know, you think you understand things. But the truth is, the melt down of the country is starting inside every home on every cul-de-sac in the U.S.A.
Two days ago I published a blog called 2012: The Year of the Roller Coaster. I received a comment back on that blog that I was simply going to respond to, but then the odds of everyone else getting to read it decreased by 6000% so I figured, what the hell… let’s use it as a new blog.
The comment came from my Uncle, who probably should have been my brother…and maybe is in some strange lateral universe. He’s the jokester, the fun uncle, the one you never take seriously until that moment you just know you are supposed to be taking him seriously. He is a huge Comic Book Movie blogger, much beloved by his fan base, and a loyal Xanax reader. If you love Comic Book movies, check him out HERE! Without further ado, his comment:
“Forever seems a stupid word to me these days, and people who throw it out there make me want to scream. Don’t say you want to be with me forever. Tell me you want to be with me today. Tomorrow. And then live today so that I will be there tomorrow.”
There in lies the problem. People let the word “forever” fall out of their mouths to give the moment gravity, without ever actually thinking to themselves about any of the other words that have always gone hand in hand with it. They forget that letting that little, bitch of a word loose, also connotes “commitment,” “honesty, “trust,” (no, honesty and trust are not the same, one is rewarded by the other) and responsibility.
Responsibility….by far, the least romantic word in the bunch, is possibly, the most important. Once the word “forever” comes out of somebody’s mouth, they take on the responsibility to do exactly what you described in closing. “live today so that I will be there tomorrow.” And yet, most people are so fickle, they get caught up in everything they don’t or could have. They lose interest because today wasn’t much fun. Then, days like that get in line and stretch on for months until the irresponsible, self indulging, individual completely forgets what “forever” means, as well of the gravity the word posses. For that matter, most forget the word ever came out of their mouth at all.
Watch the sun rise and set kiddo. Don’t worry about those you can’t get close to (they are simply passing by) and hold tight to those you can (they will live inside you as long as you draw breath.).
I wanted to repost that response, because I think he is dead on. “Most forget the word ever came out of their mouth at all.” It seems there’s always these stipulations, “Well I meant it when I said it, but you changed, I’m not happy anymore, what I want is different now.” He’s right, we’re fickle. We’re selfish by nature. If I’ve learned anything through this, it’s to be much more careful with my words. Spewing random shit from your mouth, in the moment, will only prove you a liar later on. No one’s word means anything anymore, and that’s because we don’t chose our words more carefully.
As for you dear Uncle, thank you for all of the comments, I read yours over and over again.