Unbreak My Heart

And suddenly it was over. Five days ago I got the news that my boyfriend, the man I considered my soul mate, told me he wasn't happy and then he just left. I'm not going to say I understand it or that I'm okay with it, but his mind is firmly made up and I can't change it. He is the only man I have ever been able to be 100% myself with. Maybe that was the problem? Do I have some unbearable traits that are unbeknownst to me? I can't answer that. I do know that although I am heartbroken and devastated right now, I am glad Brian and I met. I learned a lot from him, and I hope he learned a bit from me too.

What I learned:

1. You know when you buy onions and you put them in your fridge crisper or on your counter and all of those onion skins get all over everything? Keep them in an open produce bag and no flaky skins get anywhere.

2. I love cats. I used to think I hated them until I lived with one. Even though the cat was super jealous bitch to me, I still loved her. Now I have a wee kitty of my own :)

3. I don't need most of the stuff I have. A couple days after the break up, I went through my entire house and got rid of two vanfulls of "stuff" to Value Village. Stuff I had accumulated but didn't need, and kept for the sake of comfort and safety. I feel so much better with more open space in my home now.

4. If there is anything I shouldn't feel guilty about spend more money on, it's quality food. The Farmer's Market is awesome, and I love going there in the summer. I don't even mind getting out of bed for it. 

5. I need to write and paint more. It's an outlet for my overly emotional being.

6. Being bipolar is nothing to be ashamed of.

7. I don't have to cater to my children.  I pay the bills and I can make the rules. I need to ditch my single parent guilt at the door. I need to prepare them for life outside of my home.

8. A garage is for parking a vehicle in. This is my third winter in my condo and the first winter I've been able to park in my garage. Best thing I've ever done. 

Now it's time for me to let the healing begin, because even though in this moment it feels like healing isn't possible, it will happen. Eventually.

Let Me Heal, a poem for the broken hearted

Don't cry because it's over,
Smile because it happened
So the saying goes
And those that care
Tell me
Over and over

How can I be happy
When it's so fresh
I can still taste his lips on mine
Still hear his voice,
Still feel his touch
So fresh
That when I wake
I think he is beside me

No one can understand
The recesses of my heart
Or my mind
Let me grieve for what I lost
Before telling me to rejoice for what I had
I know there is a lesson
And sweet memories
But it's blurred by the veil of sadness
Let me heal
Before I move on

The Fine Line Between a Broken Heart and a Bruised Ego

Recently a short, but crazy intense romantic relationship of mine came to an abrupt end. I didn't end it, he did, because he had a Christmas reconciliation with his ex girlfriend. And he ended it by sending me an email explaining the situation.

Regardless of what I sometimes say, I have this very deep seated belief that things will inevitably work out. I trust too much and fall too quickly. I don't fall for every man who pays attention to me, it's usually the opposite and I tend to be the one that pushes them away. But when I set my eye on someone and it's a mutual attraction - BAM!! That's it, I've already jumped in with both feet and sunk waist deep into the thick of it.

When I met this new man I accepted the offer of a first date not really knowing how interested I was in him, but it had been forever since I'd been on a real date and he was polite and kind. On the date I discovered that he was different. I mean drastically different. He asked me questions that had no right or wrong answer but required a lot of thought. He was interested in what I had to say, and he didn't mind my quirks, presumably because he had his own. In short, he intrigued the hell out of me. I made a conscious effort not to project my biases from my past failed romantic experiences into him. I made another conscious decision to be my most authentic self instead of twisting myself to be accepted by this man. We had some wonderful experiences together. He took me places I'd never been, introduced me to foods I'd never eaten, and generally guided me to new experiences I may not have sought out  on my own.

Needless to say, when he ended it, it hurt. My first reaction was the whole anger/hurt/crying thing. I was hurt that he broke up with me by email. I was angry that I had even invested time into this person. And I was super pissed that he had chosen someone else over me.

When I stopped my internal tirade long enough to take a step back and look at the situation I discovered something. My ego was hurt. Yes I was upset over the loss of this person, but was I in love? My heart said, "No but we really liked him and he sure was fun!", then my ego piped up, "Ahhh but you could have been. You just needed more time and he could have loved you." I think lots of times it's the unexpected that hurts the most in life. That big surprise. That, "FUCK, I didn't see that coming!!" moment that makes us feel incapable of navigating our way through our own life, and leaves us with that dread feeling of uncertainty in our own judgement. Such as, did I expect him to get back together with his ex girlfriend? I can honestly say I didn't fucking see THAT coming. And then the self doubt started. Did I cry myself to sleep? Most definitely. Was I angry? At first, until an über awesome friend reminded me that this had nothing to do with me, or whether or not I was worthy of love. She then told me to give myself a definite timeline to grieve and just work on it, go head to head with it, get intimate with it, and write the fuck out of it instead of hiding it as people often do. She told me grieve and then just let it go. That's the best advice I've ever gotten, and it's been working for me.

As I became more introspective about the situation, I realized that I couldn't fault him for taking a second chance that was given to him by someone he loves. Wouldn't anyone of us do the same thing? Wouldn't we reconcile with someone that we love....someone who feels like home? "Seek first to understand and then to be understood" came into my head as I puzzled the situation out. I sought to understand his actions. His path and mine were simply not the same path, but it was wonderful to walk down it together even for that short while.

It felt fantastically liberating to be able to be myself and act freely with him as though I'd never been hurt in the past. I wish him much love and light in his journey. I learned a lot from him and I'm happy that we met.

Dear Damn 2013

Dear 2013, you were the hands down worst year of my life. You were the year that showed me the true definition of heartbreak. I was literally brought to my knees with it. I laid awake on countless sleepless nights for months on end, sobbing and unable to breathe with the heartbreak that will forever mark 2013. That sorrow completely overshadowed the year, consuming my entire being. My. Entire. Fucking. Being. I never imagined that I would be able to recover from that bitter ache that was relentless within me. In the end I was able to pick up my shattered pieces and move on, but admittedly, a slight twinge remains.

Dear 2013, you were the best year of my life. You showed me that even though I had been shattered  into a million miniscule pieces, broken beyond fucking recognition, I could survive. I was taught that even when it felt like I could not go on...when it felt as if  I could not exist in this life for one more second...the world would continue to live and move on without me. I learned that above all, time really is the great, true healer. This was the year that I discovered who I really am. I became authentic and comfortable with myself, and I learned to show that authenticity. This was the year I became true to myself.

2013 will mark the year that, after what felt like a lifetime, I began to write again. I wrote about what I loved and I wrote about what hurt me to the core, and that pouring out of my soul started to heal me.

This was the year that I decided, out of the blue, to pick up a paintbrush for the first time and paint a picture. I painted that picture, and I found that I loved it. The best part was that I discovered my fear of being no good was unfounded. Even if the painting had turned out to be terrible, it was a starting place and it can only get better from there.

This was the year I realized that my fear was simply all the made up shit in my head, consisting of my own limiting beliefs. This was the year I took a step back and got some perspective, and in those moments I discovered that I am limitless.

Everything I've Ever Let Go of has Claw Marks on It

 

Yes, I knew the minute I read his words that David Foster Wallace understood me, because this phrase rang so true, everything I have ever let go of has claw marks on it. Everything. I hold on so tight that my knuckles are white and my hands go numb. When I find something I love I close my eyes and jump in, completely immersing myself in it, and when it's over it is the end of my world at that time. When it is over it feels as though nothing could ever be right again. At that moment nothing is visible but the ending, solid and unyielding as a wall, blocking out new hope. The fresh beginning  that my brain knows is there cannot be visualized. The ache in my heart becomes so big that it blocks it out, and I simply can't find that beginning. It's nowhere in sight. I've tried to figure out why this is, why I can't let go when it's obviously time for me to gracefully let something exit my life. Is it because I have low self esteem, or because I don't feel that anyone else will find me worthy again? This is a point I've pondered for a long time, examining my thoughts and intentions, but it did not feel true within me.

 

This is a world where I have been told over and over: Just let it go. How incredibly easy everyone makes it sound. Just let it go! Hey, why don't I just let it go?? So when someone exits my life, or when a chapter comes to an end and I'm not ready for it...when I was blindsided because I didn't even fucking see it coming...I should be able to smile, give a little wave and be on my way without another thought. Easy peasy! Why didn't I think of that? Except that it's not easy, it's fucking hard. And surprise, I am a human with actual emotions. I have been told by someone I love, someone that exited from my life without a thought, that I can choose my emotions. I can choose whether I love someone or not, whether I miss someone or not, whether I cling to someone or not. I can honestly understand and accept that theory to a point, but when emotions are fresh and raw they just come as they are in all their nakedness, unwilling to cover themselves.

 

All of life is an act of letting go, but what hurts the most

is not taking a moment to say goodbye."

~Life of Pi

 

It comes down to this. For all of the well meaning advice from people to just let go, sometimes it is necessary to take a minute to say goodbye. My goodbyes consist of wallowing in my own misery and a large helping of self indulgent self pity. I listen to the songs that make the core of me ache fiercely, and cry into my pillow. I write letters pouring out my heart, soul, hurt and anger, and then don't send them. Thankfully this doesn't last forever, but since no one wants to see this it can only be done at certain times. The outpouring of raw sentiment makes people uncomfortable so I must do these things in private where no one can see or hear it. Since I almost never have private time, my healing takes a long time. It encumbers me for weeks or even months. I've often wondered if the dragging on of this is detrimental to me, and I can only be certain that the not being aware of and not managing my emotions at all is much, much worse. Not dealing with it makes it jump back out and bite me in the ass at the least opportune times, because those unresolved emotions don't disappear. Those agonizing feelings over things I was passionate about will come back over and over until I acknowledge them in the way that they feel honours them. Those emotions are a needy, greedy horde only tamed by time and intimate, thorough recognition like a long, slow French kiss.

 

"The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most,

are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things,

precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never

was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being

someone else; dissatisfaction with the world's existence;

All these half-tones of the soul's consciousness create

in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset

of what we are."

~Fernando Pessoa

 

 

And so I grieve. I grieve for what could have been, and for the way I had envisioned the romanticized scenario of my life. I mourn for the love that I lost, and for the way I wished I had been loved but wasn't. I will continue to grieve until, instead of being a scream in my face, the throbbing pain evolves into a sweet, soothing ache that is nothing more than background noise. I will grieve because my feelings are valid and they have a reason and a place in my life. Sorrow takes as long as it takes to resolve, and I will not rush mine. I will savour it and taste it's bitterness until it is appeased and I can put it away forever. I was once told let the strong part of me protect the broken part of me until that broken part is healed. And so for now I will let the strong part of myself write my life until my brokenness heals. And that takes as long as it takes.

Back From the Brink: Heartbreak and Healing

 

 

"You can't make homes out of human beings

Someone should have already told you that."

~Warsan Shire

I had originally written this story for a contest. The rules of the contest were that the story had to be written by a female, had to be a real life experience, and had to do with nature. Of course, being as attentive as I was, I missed the deadline by a month. I kept this story private, as it is so emotionally raw, and so important to me. Today I took inventory and saw how far I really had come, and wanted to share this with other people. This is not only to show that it is possible to heal, but that sometimes we hurt more than other people think we should, and that sometimes we take longer to heal than they think we should. Everyone's feelings are valid, no matter what others think they should be, and the healing process takes as long as it takes. Sending much love and light to anyone on such a journey at this time <3

 

 

 

I woke up extra early to pack and prepare for the day I had planned. I got out my gym bag and stuck some granola bars and a couple of peanut butter and jam sandwiches in it, along with my wallet and a water bottle. As I headed toward the front door I stopped to grab my camelback off of a hook in the hallway. The camelback being a bladder of water that could be carried like a small backpack, had extra compartments for food and keys as well. I wanted to be totally equipped because I planned on being out hiking for a few hours. A recent article said that not only exercise, but also being outdoors in nature, had the power to elevate one's mood. Armed with this new information, I thought a hike at Scout Valley might be exactly what I needed. Scout Valley is a 230 acre piece of land on the outskirts of the city I live in, vastly forested and containing many hiking trails. I had been there often in the past, but had not visited it in recent months. Then again, I hadn’t visited much of any place in recent months. I had been feeling disillusioned and bitter lately, but I guess a broken heart will do that to you. It had been six months since I had initially felt that heartbreak, and was finding it agonizingly difficult to move on from it. A good friend suggested that I write emails to myself and put them away in a file, so that when I went back to them I could see how much I had healed, and how far I had come since the day I wrote them. In six months I hadn’t seen much improvement in myself. I still laid in bed for longer than necessary, finally forcing myself to get up for the day by the time most people had already accomplished most of their to-do list. It felt as though I no longer had any worth. Sometimes at night I wondered if I would have to go to the hospital due to my sorrow, because when I thought of him I cried with such force and grief, and the physical pain in my chest was so great, that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. At those lonely, quiet times in the night, I literally didn’t know how I was going to live. It wasn’t because I wanted to die, but because I did not comprehend how the sadness in my body could be bearable. I simply didn’t know how to go on. It was then I knew I had to make myself get up. Feeling that way wasn’t an option anymore, but making the change was a challenge.

It took a true effort to make sure the kids got ready for the day. I dropped them off at school a bit early, and then drove directly over to the hiking trail. As I pulled in to the small dirt parking lot, which was surrounded on three sides by forested areas, I instantly felt a calming sensation in the atmosphere. As I exited my vehicle and began walking toward the opening of my very favourite trail, I felt a slight chill in the morning air. It wasn't the harsh chill you feel when you can see your breath, but it was just cool enough that you wondered if you should have brought a sweater. The coolness that enveloped me made me more aware of the air on every inch of my skin, and made me feel more alive than I had in months. The ascent of the trail was densely treed, and if it had rained right then their branches would ensure I'd hardly get a drop on me. It was shady and fresh walking through there, and I felt safe and hidden amongst their branches.

My breath became ragged as I hiked to the top of the trail and continued on to where it led out of the grove of trees and into a large clearing. Once I was out in the open, I stopped and turned my face up toward the sunlight. It felt good and warm on my skin, and banished any earlier regrets there had been about not wearing extra layers of clothing for the hike. With my eyes closed I could see the light illuminating red behind my eyelids. I didn't move for a long time. I just stood there feeling the sun's amazing warmth radiate over my entire body, completely aware of how incredibly uninhibited I felt at that moment. It felt as if I were floating even though my feet were firmly planted on the ground. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, and when my eyes finally opened several minutes had passed.

I continued with a brisk walk along my chosen path, and soon after broke into a run. I ran as fast possible on the alternating rocky and sandy areas of the trail, twisting my ankle slightly or becoming off balance at times, but I felt wild and free. No other people were there, and the solitude was both overwhelming and therapeutic. I looked to my right as I came to a fork in the trail, and set far back saw a stream with a bridge that I had never noticed before. I suddenly felt compelled to take it. Whenever hiking in this area in the past, I would stay on my usual two kilometer loop. I might hike that loop anywhere from four to ten times before I've had enough, but today I felt like exploring - literally as well as figuratively. The further I went into the woods the more I discovered, not only about the terrain but about myself. As I explored, I had notably more curiosity about the narrower, less travelled paths than the trails that could be seen down clearly. I favoured those narrow pathways over the well travelled ones each time there came a point in my journey where a decision needed to be made to take one over the other. Often the narrow footpaths dead ended and I had to backtrack to take the passage that had originally been disregarded. Despite this, I never regretted my initial instinct to duck down and delve into the trees.

There were several times I got lost in the forest that day, my saving grace being the GPS on my phone. I’m sure I'd still be there if I hadn’t had that with me. Even being lost and wandering I wasn't afraid, and knew I was on an adventure of self discovery and healing. The dirt under my feet was forever solid and never moving. It was rough and uneven at times but it was always there, and it was the most stable thing in my life in that moment. I felt a distinct connection with the wilderness around me and I became so overwhelmed with emotion that I laid down on the earth and let my tears flow down my cheek and into her. At that time, it felt as though we were one. I stayed that way for a long time, letting all of the hurt drain out of me. When I got back up I felt different. The grief of my heartbreak was still there, but there was also a heavy longing for the strong connection to the earth that my ancestors had. How did it change so that we now had to drive to the forest instead of being forever surrounded by it? How had we become so detached from the wildness of our earth that we were intrinsically attached to? How had we become dissociated from something that had the capacity to heal us emotionally? I was meditating on my own questions as I ran down the final stretch of the path to my van. As I looked back to where I had come from I saw the years of trees, older than myself, standing proud and firmly rooted. I saw the moss on the trees, the ferns amongst the grasses, and the pine needles that blanketed the trail. I heard the songs of the birds and the scurrying of small animals in the underbrush, too quick for me to spy. The dank and secret smell of the soil surrounded me, enveloping me like the earth’s child, and it was then that I knew I would be okay.