At a lost for writing, I decided to dig through the Abandoned Draft folder and see would I could salvage. I found the following from my old tumblr… see I told you I was a blog site groupie. (But no need to go searching for it, in a bout of frustration I clicked delete account a few months ago and hadn’t saved much from it sadly. It was mostly re-blogged pictures because that’s really all that site was for…) The timing could not have been more perfect, it was dated just about a year ago this time last year.
It’s hard to believe that in just a little over a month I will be 25…A quarter of a century. I’ll also be married an entire year…And honestly I never imagined my life would be like it is now.
Sure I can say I’ve knocked off the majority of my To Do By 25 list (engaged; married; kids; house; car; decent paying job [which isn’t to be confused with dream job]; chased a dream I had; lived in a big city)…
But I never imagined I wouldn’t have as many friends as I did a mere few years ago. It could be because I quickly outgrew the party hard 24/7 lifestyle. Let’s be honest that lifestyle is not for the poor. However I think most of it stems from the fact that I’m merely not the same person I was several years ago. My priorities changed. My habits changed. And don’t get me wrong, I’m always sad when a good friendship goes downhill. I question what I could have done differently even if I know it wasn’t my fault— I get that people grow apart as they get older and your circle of friends will probably always change…
I also never imagined that one day I would wake up sick and never get better. At least not in the near future. That was definitely a game changer. To be 24 with a toddler and be a newlywed, and suddenly a doctor tells you “oh hey you have an incurable autoimmune disease… and your kidneys are failing.” It literally a blow to the gut. (That in itself also helped weed out some bad friends… because nothing shows you who is really there like when times get hard.) Never imagined I would have a daily dose of medicine that rivals a pharmacy. Or that simple little tasks like playing outside with my daughter would get me so exhausted. Never thought that getting the slightest bug/cold/cough could seriously put me in danger. Never thought I would have to cut off my hair to save myself the embarrassment of watching it fall out before my eyes. Or to hide behind a wig for the same reason… well that and vanity issues. (I know hair is not important, but when it’s one of the only things you can control and help get you through… it becomes very important!) I never dreamed I would wake up with chipmunk cheeks due to my medicine and not be completely horrified. I never thought I wouldn’t care as much what the scale said because now it was actually out of my control. Or that I’d have the option of not having anymore children made for me. Sure I’ve admitted several times we are a 1 and done family. And we definitely are. But it was still nice to have the little faint idea that maybe one day another would come… but to have that option completely taken away due to illness. Well its a blow to the heart.
I don’t like feeling out of control. And that’s exactly where I am if I’m being completely honest. I like being able to plan for the future. But now I’m lucky if I can plan for the end of the month. Don’t get me wrong, despite the bad stuff, my life is pretty good. I have an amazing husband who goes above and beyond to take care of his family. He’s also my best friend. He’s always there for me. He gave me the most amazing little girl ever. We have a nice home, nice cars, and jobs that keep the bills paid. I have a great best friend whose family has been unbelievably helpful to us since I got sick. And I’m not nearly as bad off as some people who are sick like me…
And I know I should be happy for all the positive stuff, but there’s still a part of me that knows this isn’t how I pictured this point in my life. And it hurts a little…
The emotions I got while rereading that are unreal. Ironic that here I am a year later basically and so much has changed again. And I have really struggled with putting it all out there, I am so used to just pretending that everything is fine even when it isn’t. But a good friend told me that we all go through stuff and it’ll actually feel better getting it out, instead of bottling it up angrily until I just explode. Because I’m a time bomb I’ve found out, and when SHTF it hits hard.
My birthday is mere weeks away. 26. The ugly side of 20. Actually, my 20s in general have been ugly. The only great thing to really happen was my daughter. I never knew that there could be a stronger love for someone, than the love one has for their kid. Seriously, from the time I saw those double blue lines, she had my heart. She really had it when I found out she was she! My anniversary is also mere weeks away. The same date. If I could go back in time and tell myself to pick another date, I would. At the time though, it was a really lovely idea. I would always have someone to share and celebrate my birthday with… of course when I was picking wedding dates, I wasn’t envisioning getting sick or headed down the D-path. (D-path is divorce by the way…)
It hurt to turn the calendar this month and see “D’s birthday & 2 year anniversary next month” in big bold letters. I quickly took a sharpie and scribbled through the anniversary bit. The only bright side to all of this is that once again I am free to do whatever I want on MY DAY. Like this year, my daughter and I are going to a Mother’s Day Tea Party with Cinderella and Belle. I guess dreams do come true sometimes. Every girl dreams of having a tea party with Princesses!
And I’m sure it’s going to hurt when Facebook reminds me by showing me all the lovey dovey crap I’ve posted the last two years. Or when I’m suddenly getting messages asking why I didn’t mention my anniversary… Oh right you didn’t hear? We’re headed down the D-path. Honestly, only a handful of people know. And the majority of them are my few close friends I confided in because I was an emotional train-wreck trying to figure it all out. Everyone else thinks we are just blissfully happy… boy that’s going to be a fun day I can tell already.
I like to think I was finally entering the Acceptance stage of Anger/Grief, but as I looked over them again, I think I’m still bouncing between Anger & Guilt/ Bargaining/ and Sadness… constantly. Which I reckon is to be expected, the turn of events was quite sudden. I know that for me, the idea was always in the back of my mind, we’d discussed it a few times when things got hard, but I guess I just always assumed that we would find a way to work through it like we always had. I’m obviously not jumping for joy, I always stood on my soapbox exclaiming “Divorce Is Not An Option For Us”, which is why I guess they say never say never. Neither of us wants this to be happening, but I guess neither of us has any fight left in us either. And yet it doesn’t make it any easier.
I feel like a failure. My marriage didn’t even make it to five years. We’re breaking up the life our daughter has ever known. My idea of love is shattered. There were a bunch of factors, but mostly at the end of the day it came down to me being sick. And I know that no matter what I write, my (eventual) ex-husband will be be perceived as the bad guy for leaving his wife after she got sick. But honestly, having a chronic illness really does take a toll on a relationship. I’m definitely not the person I was when we first met, nor am I even really the person he fell in love with. With all the crazy that surrounds being sick, at one point one person, if not both, in the relationship begin to feel neglected or guilty. And I think I can honestly say that we’ve both experienced both emotions. Oddly though for awhile, we both noticed that we got along better when we were more in “friend mode” than “marriage mode”. I don’t know if that makes sense or not, but when we weren’t doing couple-things we got along so much better. Which I guess maybe in itself was sign. But like I said, having a chronic illness really does take a toll on a relationship. Especially, when the healthy individual has no idea the toll the illness is taking on the other. And I get that. If the shoe was on the other foot, I probably wouldn’t understand entirely either.
Does it make it suck any less? Absolutely not. Do I still hope to one day wake up from this nightmare? Every single day. Do I hate him for not being able to handle me being sick? Yes, and it will probably take some time for these wounds to heal. **I’m not going to air all my dirty laundry, but despite it all– he’s still been a good husband. And he’s a good father, so I’ll give him that. Do I think he’s going to regret it once I do actually move and the journey down D-path is officially started? Yes, if I am being honest, absolutely. And I was actually working on a post that would go into further detail about that theory… so I’ll save that for next time.
Surprisingly, I made it to this point without bawling. I got a little teary eyed a few times, but I kept it together. Which definitely shows signs of moving towards Acceptance. Who am I kidding? I’m probably going to log off of here and go cry into a pillow. Or eat some of my daughter’s Easter candy because I am also apparently an emotional eater but that is another post all of its own. And equally as surprising, I do feel somewhat better writing this all out. Now how long I hover over the publish button, is an entirely different story. But I guess sometimes just sharing your feelings with a bunch of strangers is more therapeutic than sharing it with people you really know, who will be 10 times more judgmental. Or at least that’s been my experience.
If you made it to this point… thank you. It really means a lot if I actually do end up posting this. I know it got a bit emotional and whiny but hey that’s what happens on a personal blog sometimes.