The Worst Part

Posted on | May 9, 2011 | 12 Comments

I don’t know what the worst of it really is.

The worst part might just be knowing there’s no break on the horizon.  No matter how frustrated or exhausted or broken I get, there is never anyone else to bring in for the second quarter.  If J is sick or tired or hungry or angry, there is no one else to dry his tears or clean his vomit from the floor.  I am a one-woman band.  I am responsible for his every need.  By the end of the day, I am so bone tired that I can barely lift my child into his crib.  I am so sad that when he cries, I cry.  And I don’t know if I’m crying for him and the loss of the mother he should have been able to have or for me and the loss of the me I should have been able to be.  Because I am shattered for the both of us.  I am now both good and bad cop at all times.  I am the punisher and the rewarder.  I am everything.  There is no second fiddle.  There is no hand off.  There is only me.  And when I lose my patience, there is no where for me to go to compose myself. And there is no one there to take care of me. Yes, the knowing is so difficult.

But, no,  that can’t be the worst part.

Because there is also the feeling of alone.  There is also the never-ending, never-ceasing, never-abating ache of lonely that has clogged its way into my every pore.  There is the feeling that I will never share a bed with any one again.  There is the feeling that I will never be just a woman again; that I will always and only be a mother. The feelings cloak me with heartache and loneliness and abject terror of never being loved just for being me again.

But no, that can’t be the worst either.

Because there are also the gut-wrenching thoughts that creep in when I least expect them.  The thoughts of my husband in bed with another woman.  The thoughts of words he used to say to me being whispered into another ear.  There are the images that flash into my brain: unwanted, unexpected, unnecessary images that I can’t stop seeing, even when my eyes are closed.  There are the thoughts that if I can not, could not make this work, then what can I ever make work again.  There are the thoughts that if he could not love me, who ever will.  There are the thoughts that keep me awake every night.

But no, those are not the worst of it, either.

I think what it comes down to is this: The worst thing, the worst part about this whole “experience” is just the experience itself.  The entire package.  The thoughts, the aching sadness of being alone, the fear of the unknown.  The confusion and the concern; the heartache and horror.  I can not go twenty-four hours without wondering if I have the strength and stamina to do this on my own.  I can not go twenty-four minutes without wondering if I will lose every inch of myself in the heartache.  I can not go twenty-four seconds without sending up a pleading prayer for mercy, courage and above all else, love.

Because this aching loss of love, this gaping space on my heart and finger where a husband and a ring used to sit… that is something I’ve just never experienced.  And I don’t know how to move past that empty space.

Comments

12 Responses to “The Worst Part”

  1. Klz
    May 9th, 2011 @ 12:06 pm

    Keep praying baby. You’re going to get through this.

  2. lydia
    May 9th, 2011 @ 12:36 pm

    Just keep swimming… You are so special. You are extraordinary. Love you.

  3. Ms Diva
    May 9th, 2011 @ 12:51 pm

    Oh honey! You will get through this! I have come through to the other side and so will you! You are an amazing mom and woman!!!!

  4. Kristy
    May 9th, 2011 @ 2:37 pm

    I just found your blog on Friday afternoon, and I spent the better part of an hour reading your recent posts. I’m so sorry about what you’re going through. As insignificant as it may be from an internet stranger, I wanted you to know that you are being thought of and prayed for. When I’m feeling down, I try to remember that whatever it is I’m going through, someone else has done it before me. It helps me feel less alone and maybe a little bit more brave. Hugs for you.

  5. Delia
    May 9th, 2011 @ 2:49 pm

    Just keep praying. He does hear you. And know that others are praying for you.

  6. Tiffany @MomNom
    May 9th, 2011 @ 4:38 pm

    I can relate with so many of the emotions you described. During my our years of being a singe mom, after finally calling it quits with Bubs’ dad after finding out I was one of many women he was lying to, I often wondered if I would ever have a “normal” life. And then, one day, it just happened. I promise, it will happen for you too.

    Do exactly what you said, make some changes for YOU. Reinvent your wheel. Look into things that better you, mind, body and spirit…

    When you take care of you – everything else just falls into place.

    I love you.

  7. Jennifer
    May 9th, 2011 @ 7:49 pm

    YOU did not fail. He did. And J could not have a better mother. He has you because God knew this was going to happen and that YOU would be the mother he needs to get him through this. Period.

    Hurting, aching, being mad, wondering, questioning, crying, throwing things, all of those things are ok. Second guessing yourself or your worth? That is totally not ok.

  8. Petunia
    May 10th, 2011 @ 12:24 pm

    Oh yes, I do understand. The pain that actually slices its way through your veins, that digs into your bones, that floods like ammonia through you when you have that “why am I standing here doing this when I didn’t have to do it six months ago?” scene evolve.

    Last September, divorce was not on the cards. January 28th it went through in the High Court.

    And I also imagine the words he is saying to the other woman he found before the divorce decree had even been granted. And I reel when I find out she looks very much like me. And I can’t listen to my child talk about her and the uncharacteristic things he does in her company.

    Almost 28 years together, almost 25 married. And I did everything he asked for, and more.

    I finally had to admit to my therapist that I am addicted to him, no matter how badly he treated me or spoke to me. It is going to be a very very long rehab.

    Strength to you.

  9. Laura
    May 10th, 2011 @ 3:22 pm

    I’m in the early stages of separation myself, and what struck me from this contribution was that this was how I felt when I was IN my marriage. I had no support, no partnership, and I carried every single responsibility. There was no sharing at all. It was myself and my two boys (age 5.5 and almost 3) functioning (or malfunctioning as the case may be) by ourselves. Which made me realise that I am perfectly capable of doing all of that without him being a drain on the energy I do have. I just have to redirect it. Yes I still feel desperately alone… but at least there isn’t that hope that he might re-engage hanging over my head and that weight off alone give me something to look forward to…

    Wishing you strength.

  10. Angela
    May 10th, 2011 @ 6:52 pm

    I’m amazed at how similiar I am feeling right now. I’m scared and lost, empty and alone…and thenI look at the handsome face of my 3 year old boy. It’s doesn’t make any of those feelings go away, actualy it makes them worse but he does give me hope! Dad has made the choice to walk away from us and I’ve realized it’s my duty to ensure that my son NEVER feels or thinks it was because of him in any way. Reading that I’m not the only one going through this horrible experience makes it not such a daunting road ahead. Thank You Ladies.

  11. Petunia
    May 11th, 2011 @ 7:50 am

    Laura: I was always the ‘manager’ in our relationship. Fixer, organiser, secretary, travel planner, etc etc. He doesn’t even know how to renew a car license. I called myself a Single, Married Mom…..

  12. Rachel
    May 12th, 2011 @ 4:33 pm

    My heart breaks for you. Even though I was the one to walk away from my marriage, because I deserved better than the angry, abusive husband, I still went through this horrible realization that it was just me. I had 4month old twins and a very confused 4yr old. Luckily, as hard as it was, my family took us in and have helped me alot. So my advice to you is not to refuse help. Even if it’s less than ideal help (my family and I have very different ideas about life but they still love me and help). It’s still help… you need time to heal and find out who you are and what you want again… Hang in there and keep being strong!!

Leave a Reply





  • Creative Commons License
    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
  • Twitter

  • Enter your email address:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

  •  


  • Grab my button for your blog!