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January 9, 2019

Death of Life

Death of Life
A story about a murder and a suicide

I have finally had enough. This Mask is heavy and my Soul is weary. I take the knife and plunge it in deeply, a little twist to make sure the job is done. It is a strange thing to not only watch the death of your own life, but to be its murderer. Not in the physical, oh no, this is not a story about ending life on earth in a physical sense. This death is that of the life that you had planned, the life you had envisioned, the hopes and dreams we create for our today’s and tomorrow’s. The loss of our greatest expectations, is sometimes no less a loss than life itself.

When we are at the difference stages and ages of life and are mentally building the next chapters, one rarely foresees the darkness that can be lurking ahead. I am mourning a life that *I* am choosing to end, and yet I am still mourning. Making this choice to end things as I know it, doesn’t make it any easier. In this case I have chosen to end my marriage. At a ripe old age of 41, we have been together for almost 22 years… thats half – *50%!!* – of my life… and the entirety of my adult life. I literally grew up with him, matured, began my career, became a wife and a mother… We have been married for 15 of those 22 years together. This is hands down one of the most difficult things I have ever done, but its self preservation. I am having to learn how to let go of the expectations I had of him and of our life together. I am learning to let go of a happily ever after that was never to be. I am learning to accept that people are who they are, and not who we want them to be or what their potential is. As I write this my heart is breaking into a million pieces. Literally… This man was my whole world, my entire universe, my axis – yes, my kids are my sun and moon but he was as important to my existence as gravity. I cannot continue to try to save someone who cannot or will not try to save themselves. The fact is, I am learning the hard way, people have to see for themselves, they have to hit rock bottom. Sure, I have heard this a hundred times before, but how do you let someone you care about hit the ground? Even now I’m still trying to be a parachute. Not that he won’t hit the ground, but that maybe the impact will not be so bad.

My why’s or personal situation aren’t whats really important so much as the journey itself. Everyone’s “death” will be different; maybe it’s giving up a career path or ending a friendship with someone from your childhood or toxic parent. Trusting your gut and your heart, understanding you are worthy of something better, not accepting unhappiness out of fearing change and an unknown future outside of our comfort zone. Joseph Cambell said: “We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.” The thing is, it’s not just letting go like a helium balloon. Its crying sobbing. Wailing. Screaming in anger. It’s like the unexpected death of a loved one, or maybe more like the expected death of someone whose been suffering with terminal illness. Either way. It’s Grief. Have a funeral for that life.

I share this because there are not many people who will tell you this can and does happen. That you might be faced with the hardest choice you ever thought you would have to make. Few, if any, will tell you it’s going to be soul crushing. Not many are brave enough to tell you that the right thing can be the hardest thing. I’m here to tell you. Not to be a downer, this doesn’t even apply to everyone, some get their happily ever after. I am here to tell you if you are unfortunate enough to be in the darkness, you’re not alone. How many others have traveled the road your embarking on and survived. I am lucky to have an army of family and friends to surround me, a therapist when I need objectivity. My confidante and best friend who has just traveled the same road I am currently on, he encouraged me, almost daily assuring me that I was going to be ok. *I am going to be ok*. I am still battling this war and I have a long way to go, but I feel more at peace. I am tired. I need to stop and rest often. I even backtrack, sometimes by miles, only to retrace my steps forward again – the second time comes with more knowledge, clarity, and strength than the first time. I am confidant that this is the direction I must travel, no matter how hard the journey.

Is there life after death? I am only at the beginning (or middle?) of my path, and so I do not yet know the answer to this question. I like to think so. I have witnessed the resurrection for others, but the only guarantee in life is that there are no guarantees. I know in my heart of hearts that there is something better beyond where I have been living. Where we *both* have been living. I have to finish dying first, and lay in rest to heal before I can embark on my next journey towards happiness. And so can you.

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Joan Blendowski

Joan Blendowski is from the New York City metropolitan area and is a New Jersey girl through and through. Tough on the outside and sensitive on the inside, she’s a working mom with two busy, active boys. Trapped in corporate land by day, she is a creative by nature, which includes studying at Parsons School of Design. Recently she has started to listen to the voice inside begging her to write the words locked inside the center of her soul in hopes of finding herself, and maybe helping someone else along the way. Want a deeper look into Joan’s world? You can find on her Website , Facebook, Instagram