Gut Punch

It feels like you’ve been punched in the gut.
Just as hard as anyone could ever hit you.
Right in the stomach.
The knots and the pain make you feel like you have to curl up like a baby.

That’s the only way I know how to explain it.
I keep hearing “you’ve got this” “don’t worry.”
I wish it were that easy.
I wish it were that simple.

Our minds know things; things that our heart knows absolutely nothing about.
That’s just the way it goes.
I know lots of things, I know what makes sense and I know the facts.
My heart, my gut, that doesn’t always match my mind.
Actually, it hardly ever does.
I might have it all together, I might not have anything to worry about, but I don’t know what facts will be coming at me either.
The most precious things in the world to me are what I am walking in there ready to fight for.
No matter what or who is standing next to me on my side, it’s still the scariest thing I have ever been though in my life.

All the reassurance in the world doesn’t change the way my stomach feels.
It doesn’t change the tears that refuse to stop falling today.
It doesn’t change the fact that I have to fight tomorrow.
Fight someone that I once thought was my forever.
When it all comes down to the exact moment that you have to walk into that room, the rest doesn’t matter.
Your mind is ready, prepared to handle things the way they need to be; but your heart, your gut, your soul and your spirit, they ache.

I know everyone thinks it should be simple.
Everyone thinks that after all this time I’m supposed to be so full of hate that I don’t even care what happens to him.
I should be so mad, so angry that I shouldn’t be concerned one bit with how he feels.
He wasn’t concerned with us when he has done all the things the people closest to me know he has done, so why should I even care anymore?

The truth is that I don’t really care, at this point it’s out of my hands.
My sadness isn’t for him.
Whatever happens is not because of me and I know that.
Really, for me, that doesn’t make it any easier.
Any less scary…
I ache deep inside my heart for my family.
Even if it’s as broken as broken can possibly be, it’s still my family and it still hurts.
It’s still sad.
It always will be.

Maybe I should be full of rage and ready for revenge.
I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past few years and one of those things is that I’m not like that.
I forgive.
I forgive people that shouldn’t be forgiven.
I’m not weak.
Forgiving people that hurt me doesn’t make me weak.
I’m strong, stronger than I ever thought I could be.
Hurting other people – that doesn’t give me satisfaction, happiness or add any strength to my soul.
It isn’t pity either.
It’s a genuine sadness.
A sadness that things could ever get to this point.
This level of hate.
A sadness at the division between a family that used to be one.
Sadness knowing that I probably won’t ever understand most of it.

Whether he buries himself or I bury him, he isn’t the only one that has to live with the consequences.
My babies do too.
They have to live with every decision and every action that both of us have made and continue to make.
They are the ones that will suffer or benefit the most, regardless of the outcome between he and I.
They suffer because of the division in families.
They suffer because they don’t know their place, they don’t understand where he stands.
None of us do and that in itself is very sad.
When I look at those kids and I see their pain, it fuels me, that’s where my strength comes from.
They are my weakness but they are my strength.
That doesn’t mean that I am full of anger or that the pain disappears.
It means that I have to mask the pain, I have to hide it and I have to do what’s right for them, no matter how heart wrenching it is.

To have people that you believe love you, people that you believe love your kids and accept them into their family stop speaking to you, stop checking on them when they are with you, to completely abandon you, is very painful.
It’s heartbreaking.
You get over it.
You move on.
You do what you need to do.
The thing is that days like tomorrow bring it all right back to the surface.
All the hurt and betrayal, all the sad and the crazy, all the bad, the things you have moved past, they all come back.
The good, the happy, the what if’s, the plans, the dreams and goals, that all comes back as well.
The very things that you have worked so hard to move past, to get over are all staring you right in the face.

Tomorrow you won’t know how I feel.
Today though, today you will see a hot mess.
Today I am giving myself a pass, a crying, emotional, let it all out pass.
I can do that.
I can do that because I’m strong, because I have been fighting and struggling every day waiting to get to this moment.
Divorce really is like a death – mine has just been a slow one.




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