The plan was, just don’t open the door. Isn’t that how it goes? Lights off, no one will knock, but if they do, just don’t open the door. But then I heard my little panther “Dis is my mommy’s house” and I had to answer. I didn’t even have a piece of candy to give my little panther because all along, the plan was, just don’t open the door.
My therapist says it’s ok for everything to still hurt. All. The. Time. He also says it’s ok for me to drink wine and that sometimes I should just go to a hotel and order room service and sleep all day. I really like him.
You read about this feeling of instrumental loss when you get divorced. It is equated to a death. Part of you literally dies inside. Years later I am trying to figure out if I will ever get that part back….. You know, like an iguana tail that grows back….. I don’t know if mine will or if it just died.
My therapist says everyone must think I am always fine, because I laugh about my life, I am honest about it, I just push through it, but there are still days I end up on the floor, crying, wondering who the fuck I pissed off to get here.
Sometimes, I still look at my wedding rings, and think about when we bought our first house, or our second house, or our first apartment. 15 years of it and my entire plan was “Just don’t open the door.” More times than not, I wonder if I will ever move on, or even go on a real date, or if my tail will grow back.
I tell myself all the time that someone had to move on first…. I am generally use to being the first one to get shit accomplished, so maybe that is why it is so hard, but I suspect it is something different.
I joke about it, but the reality is, in comparison, I have it pretty good. When one of the minis pukes and shits at the same time (or, not at the same time) the first person I text is the former Mr. Nara. I wondered with him just yesterday, how it will be when our oldest (slightly vain, already enjoying excessively long showers) hits puberty. I think likely, because when your tail is ripped off, you go back to what you know. But I think too, that because when someone is shitting and puking at the same time, only the other 1/2 of what created that disgusting mess understands.
I am lucky in comparison, but nothing eases the pain of your tail being ripped off other than time. At least that is what my therapist says. Sort of.