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This story has been brewing in my psyche for weeks.
I’m working so diligently to release every negative emotion that comes into my body and mind. But I’m still so fueled by rage and confusion since my dad died on New Year’s Day of this year, and then seven months later, my husband and I filed for divorce.
These are two seemingly heavy stressors that would send anyone reeling—am I right?
Well, it screwed me up, royally.
Dad’s death was sudden and devastating for me and my entire family, across the board. And my divorce was imminent. A true loss, indeed.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda…
Think about this for a moment: What if you took all your emotions and put them in a bottle, shook it up so everything would be jumbled up and disgusting, and then kept the cork on without releasing any air for years?
Well, this is what happens: You can’t sh*t right. You can’t eat right. Colors are dismal. Food loses its appeal. You become bitter. You don’t give a sh*t who you hurt because you are so gutted yourself.
Life ultimately sucks.
My body whittled down to 107 pounds from sheer anger and devastation when Daddy left me. I carried around such hostility. If someone paid me a kind word or compliment, I shrugged it off and ignored it. And if anyone dared to utter something unpalatable to me, I pounced. I didn’t think—I just tore that person a new asshole. I didn’t care.
Anger is an emotion that inevitably damages the person carrying it—not the person it is directed toward.
Knowing that and actually practicing that, though, are two totally different concepts.
Take it from me, it’s hard as f*ck to change, to morph, to evolve, to blossom. But it can be done.
Without going into too much grave detail about my failed marriage, just know deep down that I was so unhappy for such a long time. I accommodated my partner in every way I could for 11 loyal years. I made mistakes—many of them—and yet, I still had high hopes that my mate and I would be able to rectify our differences.
But the pandemic ruined all of us.
And it was during lockdown when I began to see some negative colors in my husband that were never there before. I had no idea what would transpire in those two tumultuous years; but was I ever thrown for a series of loops.
Needless to say, I am a completely transformed woman because of my daddy’s passing and from my failed marriage. I am downtrodden, yes, but I have not thrown in the towel thus far. I persevere; it’s in my nature. I endure, I fight tooth and nail, I claw, I dig deep into what and who I believe in, and I dedicate my life to keeping myself strong and healthy.
Thank goodness for all the people in my life who have not only come to my aid, but have been literal lifelines who’ve kept me afloat in a sea of chaos and dismay.
As Daddy always used to say, “Keep cool, Steph. This too, shall pass. In the meantime, be strong. You’re my powerhouse.”
Yes, Daddy. I am your powerhouse.
To all my readers: If you are faced with more than one travesty at a time, how in the world do you cope? I truly hope that, like me, you have a solid support system, you are seeking professional help, you have some amazing friends who elevate your spirit to the hilltops, and you take care of your temple.
Nurture yourself every chance you get. Never be ashamed to reach out to anyone for help. You simply can’t live with your emotions bottled up forever. Please release yourself from any ongoing agony and aggression. Feed your soul with all the right things and be uplifted by all the right people.
Keep going, my readers. You are going to be okay—I promise.
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