day by day
March 2020 M T W T F S S 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
Let me start with one word: DON’T! It ain’t worth it, folks.
Looking back, I can almost see the energy that ended up consuming us. It felt like this odd combination of being pushed into something while also being pulled away from yourself. Actually, it felt almost exactly like being swept up in a current. Ha…energy…current…of course!
Turns out, Mr. Universe & I were karma cards to each other. An energy playing itself out in our lives with the goal of helping us graduate to the next lesson. What I didn’t know at the time was that Mr. Universe’s first wife was also his karma card. Doh!
Since he had married not one but two Six of Diamond women (again, check out itiskismet.com for more info), that pretty means he didn’t learn his lesson the first go around. Lucky me, right?? I didn’t think so at first either…
This karmic energy became yet another identity in our marriage. There was me, Mr. Universe, his addiction and our karma. Man, it was beyond crowded in this house! It felt like there was no room to breathe. No place to catch a breath or a break. The push/pull was constant.
I was finally able to get the perspective I needed the summer Mr. Universe’s daughter stayed with us. Watching them interact with each other (& around his addiction) was like carrying around a life sized mirror. Over the course of a couple months, the lesson started to sink in. I wasn’t going to clear this karma…and graduate…until I decided to love myself more.
My whole marriage I kept thinking, “If I could just show Mr. Universe that I loved him. If I could just get him to feel comfortable in knowing this, everything would work out.” But that was only half of the lesson…and the part I couldn’t control.
The only part I could control was how I felt. And my job was to love myself. To feel that love…from me to me.
They say you can’t truly love someone until you love yourself. Well, they were fucking right. Although, at the same time, it is a little more nuanced than that too. I mean, it’s not that I didn’t love myself at all. I just didn’t love myself ENOUGH…I didn’t love myself unconditionally. Which was exactly the problem in my marriage (reflection alert!). Mr. Universe didn’t feel like I loved HIM enough. #mindblown #ineedaminute
Seeing the lesson reveal itself and land in my body was like a punch to the gut. All the sudden there was no air in my chest…or my marriage. And then, the rush of grasping for air…the burning in my lungs (and my heart) as the air rushed into my body. The rush of adrenaline to jump back up….and out.
And just like that, I knew my marriage was over. The lesson was learned. The karma cleared. The spark gone. The marriage D.O.A. And that, my friends, is why you should never, ever marry your karma card, IMO.
Eventually, I had to face facts. I had to admit the toll that allowing myself to be consumed by Mr. Universe’s well-being was taking on my well-being. Because just like he was making choices, so was I. I mean, not making a choice IS still making a choice.
The ungrounding experience of being married to an addict made it nearly impossible to commit any sustained focus on anything other than him. He could swing from clean, empowered and in control to inebriated and lacking the ability to carry on a conversation. Each time he would bottom out, we would have a “come to Jesus” resulting in his recommitment to getting clean…which could mean anything from total abstinence to setting defined limits like no substances before 8pm (yeah, we tried that one more times than I care to admit).
Life became a continuous negotiation. But it wasn’t necessarily just me negotiating with him. In fact, it was probably more about me negotiating with myself. What did I want? What was I hoping for? What was I willing to settle for? What did I deserve? What could I forgive?
And for each question I contemplated for myself, I did the same for and about him. Expending enormous amounts of energy trying to guess what he was thinking and feeling. Trouble is, the main goal of an addict is to numb, self-soothe, so they don’t to think or feel.
Despite knowing on some level that the odds were stacked against me and most likely never to be in my favor, I would optimistically hope that the latest negotiation would be the magic pill to turn everything around. To bring sobriety and peace to Mr. Universe and forgiveness from me.
You see, dealing with an addict is complicated. Nothing is black and white. Everything is gray. Which is exactly how I found myself feeling most days…gray. My spark for life was on hold…just like my breath. I was experiencing life in that pause just after a deep inhale but before the sweet relief of the exhale. Filling myself with the hope that this time he’d be able to stay clean…that this time I’d be able to forgive him for all the previous times…but not trusting enough to allow myself to sigh into a space of peace nor trust.
The majority of my energy was spent navigating my marriage and his dis-ease. Trying to eliminate as many triggers for Mr. Universe as I could, while also working to not be a trigger myself. Turns out all that is a lot of work. I was exhausted. He was exhausted. We were exhausting each other…while also triggering the shit out of one another. It was a downward spiral that neither of us could stop. Until we did.
In just a few years, I had gone from this expansive, anything is possible feeling to the sad realization that I had boarded the Titanic and we were heading straight for an ice burg. That sinking feeling I had…it was real. That feeling that there was nothing I could do about it…also real.
You see, my marriage was a real life example of what happens when you marry your karma card (itiskismet.com). No one but the energy is in control…and even it just wants to play itself out and move the fuck on.
You might be asking, “What happened???”. It seemed like I was going to get my happy ending, right?!? I mean, if you followed my last blog series, on January 1, 2015 I was happily preparing to wed Mr. Universe on the beach in Hawaii (Day 281: Dear Mr. Universe). Sooooo….???
Well, that’s the thing about telling a story. It’s easy to share the parts that make the story good and just as easy to leave out the parts that don’t. Said another way, it’s my lie and I’ll tell it how I want.
What I didn’t share (with a lot of people in my life) was that Mr. Universe struggled with substances and I struggled to understand the depth of his struggle…sadly, I think he did/does too.
In the beginning, I thought he was a social drinker…who just happened to spend a LOT of time socializing. I made this assumption because that’s how/why/when I drank. It was a social thing. I never drank alone, only with friends. So I naively thought that’s what he was doing too. Then I started to notice the intensity of his drinking.
As we both settled into the relationship, that disguise of “having to be on your best behavior” started to crack. It just so happens that this coincided with Mr. Universe sharing how much he hated his job. Made total sense! Of course you’d drink more if you hated your job, right?
And what do you do when you hate your job and live with your girlfriend? You fucking quit your job…out of the blue…and spend all day getting high. Errrrt! What!?!?
I know what you’re thinking….this behavior was going on before you were married. WTF!!! And you’re right. It was. And like most addicts, he had excuses for all of it. He was drinking and smoking because of his job, his ex, his family, moving to a new city, not feeling loved, being bored, afraid of the future, etc., etc., etc.
Those were all valid reasons to feel uneasy…unsettled…unsafe…mad…sad…pain. Having spent my fair share of time in therapy, I got it. This was how he coped. So, I figured I could help. I could help him create new, healthier coping mechanisms. And that’s what I spent my time doing right up until and after we said “I do”. Trying to help him learn how to cope…with everything.
What I didn’t understand, was how deeply he was wounded. And how much of that pain had been shoved done and for how long. It was intense….and heartbreaking.
I came to realize that I had married a 13 year old boy. Deeply wounded by his family. Left with the belief that he was unworthy of love and unwanted. A pain that hurt so profoundly he spent his entire life numbing himself with drugs and alcohol. Distracting himself with women and video games. Defining himself by his job(s), money and material things. Building muscles and a demeanor to ward off potential threats.
Despite all that, I saw a man that wanted to be loved and to give love. A man that wanted to be better but didn’t know how. A man who despite the shitty hand he was dealt, continued to rack in the pot. I saw the potential…and I wanted to help.
Being no stranger to self help, therapies and alternative healing modalities, I thought surely I could help him find the right mix of strategies to heal. And so we tried…a lot of things…yoga, personal therapy, couples therapy, a shaman, meditation, books, videos, abstinence. Some things would help for a little bit but nothing ever stuck.
I have mad respect for anyone dealing with an addict or addiction of any sort. It’s like being in a relationship with three people: (1) the real person, (2) their pain, and (3) the addiction. And you never really know what/who is going to be the trigger for them to shift between those aspects. It’s an unnerving and ungrounded way to live, but it’s still a choice. Which is why I eventually realized that I had to start making better choices too.
I’d love to be able to blame the chaos and struggle of 2018 on Trump but I can’t. I mean, I probably could. Based on what I read on social media, you can pretty much blame EVERYTHING on Donald J Trump.
But, if I’m real with myself, I have no one to blame except me. I created this mess…on some level…but why??? Whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy…..
Let’s recap the Show of Shit that was 2018. In no particular order, I…
hired a business coach claiming to be an ascended master reincarnate with a seat on the Council of 12 (lots more on all that later),
experienced psychological warfare (yes, it’s a real thing that can apparently happen to real people),
rebranded a business that didn’t need rebranding (see bullet #1),
opened a consulting business with my con man business coach,
traveled to LA to meet my con man business coach in person and was black magic gypsy mind fucked (dude.),
worked on a project to build an artificial intelligence platform that was all about mind control (that’s right, I said mind control),
hired two chefs to open a restaurant that never happened,
invested in a manuscript for a movie that hopefully never happens (again, see bullet #1 and #2),
experienced a level of exhaustion that can only be compared to being a lead zombie in The Walking Dead,
lost all ability to feel joy and the desire to consume much more than Vega shakes at every meal (food is our most intimate relationship and a reflection of mental health),
was fired and repeatedly threatened to be fired by my business coach for not working hard enough (say what?!? I hired you, MFer!),
finally fired said business coach after realizing he was a con man and working with black magic and using psychological mind control techniques (really can’t make this shit up, folks),
shut down my newly rebranded business because it was built on the advice of a con man,
paid my ex, Mr. Not-so-fucking Universe, to go big bang himself (y’all were right but hey, he was my karma card),
spent TWO WHOLE MONTHS puzzling and coloring because I couldn’t manage to do anything else after dealing with all that above shit and needed to re-wire my brain,
sold my house and moved out of the state I had lived in my entire life.
And those were just the big things that come to mind.
So you can see why I can’t really blame Trump. My shit show of a year was personal. But with a few months into the new year and almost 500 miles, I have all the perspective I need to see how beautiful (and necessary) all those experiences were. And that’s what I plan to share. Partially for those that are interested in a behind the scenes scoop, but mainly because writing is how I work things out and let them go.
So grab some popcorn and your favorite blanket and let’s unpack the shitshow that was 2018.
I type this from a windowless room about the size of a small home office where I sit with my attorney. Both of us hunkered down behind our computers doing what we can to pass the time as we wait…
The mediator started the morning with us. Briefing me on the process…her role…what to expect from mediation…and my possible best and worst day in court.
Bottomline, the value of a prenup is priceless. Repeat after me…the value of a prenup IS priceless. And yes, I should have known that.
I mean, on some level, I did know it. I just chose to ignore practicality and logic and reason because we were in luuuurv…or so I thought. Sometimes it’s tough to tell the difference between someone being in love with you versus being in love with the lifestyle you afford them.
If you’ve read my blog, you know this isn’t my first “rodeo” (aka marriage). However, this one has definitely given me the most fits and bumps and bruises. But it’s also taught me the most about myself.
The most important lesson being that I’m worth “it”.
I’m worth a prenup, if someone is truly in love with me.
I’m worth a relationship where we’re both fully present.
I’m worth a grown ass man (read, not a man-child) that is able to care for himself, has healthy coping skills and makes his own money.
So as I sit here contemplating my possible worst day in court because Mr. Universe turned down a very generous settlement offer, I allow myself to feel past the anger and betrayal to the fight. It’s buried down deep in the pit of my stomach and as it rises up to meet my heart, I feel a wave of calm…clarity…groundedness sweep over me.
I feel myself become enveloped in a warm hug of the most important lesson I needed to learn…that I’m worth fighting for.
So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to fight for myself along side every other woman who’s found her voice and the strength to say “Enough!”…but especially for those that haven’t found their voice yet. Because every time one of us stands up, it becomes that much easier for the next. #shiftthisshit #efuckingnough
Today, I’m ripping the tape off my mouth and the shackles off my wrists. His spell over me in hopes of coming to a settlement is broken. I am no longer living in fear! No longer waiting for a man to save me. From this point forward, I’m gonna save my own damn self!
As Ke$ha says…
I’m a motherfucking woman, baby, alright
I don’t need a man to be holding me too tight
I’m a motherfucking woman, baby, that’s right
(click the pic for the vid…you’re welcome!) 🙂
It’s funny how phrases can get stuck in your head…and then take on a life of their own. For example, I’ve had the phrase “It’s a match” rolling around in my head for a while now but somewhere along the line it started sounding a lot like The Target Lady from SNL. You know, she says “It’s approved”… and sometimes “It’s a match”.
Maybe this will help to jog your memory?
Anyway, this whole matching thing has been coming up with my coach AND in my coaching business (www.corporatecandy.coach) AND as I sort out my feelings surrounding my marriage/divorce. Uuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhh…..!
I’ve been trying to be really aware of the words I use to describe what went wrong in my marriage. So aware, in fact, that I’ve started to notice patterns in the words and phrases I use to describe situations and people outside my marriage.
Case in point, for the past couple of weeks I’ve found myself talking about how my marriage (and working with my coach) felt like a full time job.
How both my husband (during our marriage) and now my coach seem to take up a lot of time and space (aka energy) in my life.
Funny thing, I met my husband a couple months after quitting my corporate job…and the transition out of corporate life was a lot harder than expected. I mean, all the sudden my time was my own. I didn’t have something filling 8-10 hours every day…until I did. My “new job” was dating and eventually marrying Mr. Universe.
Fast forward to a few months ago. Mr. Universe had moved out and I was face-to-face with the sobering realization that (yet another) marriage was over. As I sat at my table wondering “What’s next?!?”, I get a message from my soon-to-be coach wanting to explore how we might be able to work together. Harmless enough right?
I mean, I was sitting there…thinking “There has to be more. Should I go back to work? Should I move? Am I really going to spend the rest of my life alone?” And just like that, I energetically called in a life / career coach.
Just like I’d done with Mr. Universe, I called in another full time job. Something/one to fill my day with. Someone to make me work…to make me do my work.
I missed the clues with Mr. Universe. Lessons of the heart are so much harder to grasp because…well…the heart is involved. Love is a powerful emotion and logic, rational thinking flies out the window.
But with my coach, it was so much easier to connect the dots. Well, I mean, it did still take a couple of months.
Rather than sit by myself and face the music, I had again called in someone to distract me from me. Only this time, the universe answered with a power hitter. Someone whose intention wasn’t at all to distract me from myself but to hold up a giant clear fucking mirror to reflect that shit right back. Uuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhh…..!
I have to say, though, it’s working. Do I like what I see? Some days. Do I like what I feel? Some days. Is doing this work a full time job? Every fucking day.
So, as mad as I am to be going through another divorce, I have no one to blame but myself. I manifested the lessons I needed to learn. Did I do so in the healthiest way? More on that another time…
In the meantime, I’ve got a new job. Me. And it’s a match!
It’s been a hot minute…ok, so it’s been nearly 3 years…since I wrote a post. To say a LOT has happened would be an understatement! I’ve contemplated writing about it on a number of occasions but the time didn’t feel right…until now.
Let’s start with why now, first.
Well, today is my 45th birthday!!!! Happy fucking birthday to me! It’s crazy to say, write, hear, read. My body doesn’t feel like I imagined 45 would feel…nor does my life look like I thought it would.
I remember when my mom turned 45. No offense, Mom, but that seemed sooooo old at the time. It wasn’t that she was old. It was more that 45 seemed like such a milestone…and so far away. Well, #milestoneachieved and #thefutureisnow
Granted I’ve only been 45 for about eight hours as of the penning of this post, but so far so good. I’m all-around healthier than I’ve been my entire life! Here are some of the highlights…
In March I stopped eating meat, which feels amazing! I’ll probably write more about that at some point because the experience of suddenly realizing I couldn’t eat meat anymore after eating it at nearly every meal for 40+ years was pretty wild. (I do still eat some fish, mainly shrimp and scallops, oh and eggs….so I’m probably more pescetarian, than vegetarian, for now.)
I’ve started two more businesses, closed one down and have started the process to transform another into something pretty amazing, if I do say so myself. Got myself a career/life/spiritual coach (even though he hates the word “coach”).
Found two amazing spiritual guides from Sedona that helped me to get grounded & elevated (yes, at the same time) and on the right track so I could be in the right place to meet my “coach”.
I’ve also been working out nearly every day….a combination of cardio, weight training and yoga. I’ve been working with a holistic chiropractor, myofascial release therapist and getting massages much more regularly than I used to. This coupled with a healthier diet…and I feel damn near unstoppable.
So, now for the biggest update…I’m getting divorced, again. This…this there is a lot to write about and I will. But for now, know that this is the right decision for both of us. Life is far too short and too great an experience to be unhappy…to spend the majority of your time trying to force something. I can honestly say I’ve learned more about what I’m capable of in this relationship than in any other my entire life.
I don’t feel like a failure…or broken…or unworthy of love…or any of that bullshit people project on the ending of a relationship. In fact, I feel empowered! I finally got to a place where I love myself enough to do what I need with integrity (that’s key). And to know on a much deeper level the type of relationship I want to foster.
I’m pretty freaking stoked about what’s coming. In cardology (check out http://www.itiskismet.com), your 45th birthday is the same as your 1st. It’s like starting your life all over…but with the wisdom and experience of the previous 44 years. #score
And to show you just how excited I am, I’m going to start writing again. Not on a daily basis but more than once every 3 years. 😉 Probably weekly or so…but definitely when I feel there’s something to share. And I plan to live a life worth sharing!
Here’s to 2018…turning 45…and being fancy as fuck!