If you’re a parent, you recognize this modified book title. If my name was Alexander, it would fit perfectly and I would romp with cute monsters. But my story doesn’t end with supper waiting for me in my room.
Deja Vow’s Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day occurred on March 3rd, 1999.
It’s the day Husband #1 said he didn’t love me anymore and probably never did. Some of my divorce friends call it the Bomb Day. That is the worst day I’ve ever had in my life.
If you’ve been hit with The Bomb, you know how hard it is to hear the words “I don’t love you anymore”. It’s like taking all of your self-esteem, putting it into a blender, then running over it with a lawn mower before chopping up what remains with a chain saw. And if that’s not bad enough, the phrase, “and probably never did” makes if feel like all the years you spent together added up to nothing. No. Correction. Less than nothing.
It’s the day when you see the future you held dear disappear into vague nothingness. It’s the day when all you thought you knew is now suspect. And worst of all, it’s the day when you realize you no longer trust yourself to make the right choices.
Sure, I did everything wrong. I begged, pleaded, applied generous portions of guilt along with a good old-fashioned soaking of anger. If I had a time machine and could look back on myself that day, I most likely would have had my old self committed. It was INSANE.
You problably have your own version of the Bomb, and the anxiety, the insomnia, the lack of appetite, and just basic depression that comes along with it. I don’t have to tell you how thinking clearly is impossible. Cooking anything is like an attempt at brain surgery. Washing the laundry feels like scaling Mt. Everest. Getting out of bed takes an act of Congress. And we haven’t even talked about the needs of the kids during this time. Emotions run high.
It is a debilitating, scary time.
And slowly you notice something interesting.
Eventually you start to feel better.
Deciding to climb out of bed to get the kids ready for school gives you purpose. Making macaroni and cheeses no longer requires detailed step-by-step instructions with IKEA-like photos. You actually want to comb your hair and brush your teeth. Maybe even set the goal of washing your face…if not today, at least by tomorrow.
Slowly life resumes…
The thing about this horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day is that I survived it. You will too. And I survived a couple of others that were close runners-up (see my Murder post for another shake your head moment). I know (barring something catastrophic) that March 3rd, 1999 will be the worst day of my life, not so much because of Husband #1, but because it was the day I lost my optimism and trust in the world. And somehow I lived through all the chaos and dug myself out from under the rubble to make it through to March 4th, 1999.
And then March 5th, 1999 rolled around. Followed by March 6th. And now look at me. It’s February 19th, 2014…almost 15 years later.
Just like every March 3rd, I’ll think about how hard it was way back then. It’s an anniversary I’ll always remember, even though I have to think back to figure out my first wedding anniversary and first divorce date.
No matter what surprises life brings me, I’ll make it through today and any rough days in the future. I have faith in myself because my worst day is behind me. I will survive.
Funny how you remember those days isn’t it? Mine was my sister’s birthday. And just to make things fun, when I moved out a month later, it was his mother’s birthday. Now those days are etched in my memory. But that’s all they are to me now. I’ve left them behind.