This was one of the most painful blogs I ever wrote. As I try to re-energize myself and begin blogging again, I am choosing now to re-share one of the most difficult moments of my entire life. I have yet to feel the same kind of pain that I felt on this night, even though seemingly more difficult events came and went, leaving me unscathed. I still cry when I read this blog. It is as real to me now as it was then. And although I still experience some disappointment on a regular basis, I have the calculation by which all other pseudo-disappointments must be weighed and measured. And blessedly, they are all found wanting.
I, however, still wield the power to disappoint. And although I try to keep my weapon guarded, I do brandish it on occasion. But, I am only human...and disappointment is a part of the race that I run in. So I accept it and I move on. And I continue to try and teach my children that disappointment is just a part of growing, learning, living. So as you read this heart-wrenching missive, know that when your day comes (may it never), your single most disappointing moment may not only be your nemesis, but your friend.
Disappointment: My Nemesis, My Friend.
Whew. I have reached levels of disappointment that are beyond description. I have spent the last week disappointing myself, disappointing my spouse, and now, finally...disappointing my children. See, tonight is the night that my soon-to-be ex-husband and I decided to tell our beautiful, innocent babies that we were getting divorced. It was, without a doubt, a grand disappointment.
My oldest daughter was overwhelmed. She cried and begged us to stay married forever. She wanted to know if we were leaving her. She wanted to know where she was going to live. She wanted to know if we (my husband and I) would be alone forever or if we would find someone else. She had so many "adult" questions, it overwhelmed me...She is only 6 years old...It was just so disappointing for her. It broke my heart. My husband sat next to her, holding her hand, tears streaming down his face, trying to comfort her...when he needed to be comforted too. When his turn came to talk to her, he did an amazing job. He pulled himself together and explained things just as he needed to...It was more painful for me than anything we have gone through this far. I wanted to stand up on the couch and scream..."WHY! Why couldn't you have cared this much when it still mattered to me! Why couldn't you have been this involved in the emotional well being of your children all along"! Of course, I didn't. I sat on the couch and cried. I haven't stopped since.
My youngest daughter was underwhelmed, to say the least. And that was a blessing. She ran around, with scissors in hand (I am for real people...yeah, judge me. I don't care. Do it now while I am still to exhausted to kick your ass), and tried to eat a candle. She was fully unaffected by the conversation that was going on. But periodically she would come up to her Daddy and say, "Daddy, please don't go"...She too is disappointed. Her disappointment may manifest itself through symptoms of pica, but there is disappointment there just the same. She is only 3...I hope that she doesn't remember this painfully disappointing night 3 years down the line.
So...here I sit. Glass of wine in hand...blogging. Some people may think that's callous or even strange. But it's more obligatory catharsis. The girls are sleeping...exhausted from all of the disappointment that has been heaped upon them over the past few days, and I am just numb. Sometimes blogging allows me to get out all of the emotions that I keep bottled up inside in a way that makes me feel better, and sometimes amuses others. But now, I feel like I am telling a story that doesn't even belong to me. My heart feels empty. I don't really have any great emotional stories to share. I feel like I have been in a bloodletting, and all life in me has poured out onto the earth...absorbed and then gone. But yet, I feel compelled to write this blog and send all of these thoughts into the blogosphere...Because the part of me that takes my raw emotions and turns them into something creative and unique is dying. I am slowly starting to shut down and I am helpless to stop it. I have been trying to keep the people who love me close to me, but my heart is fighting that attempt, and I want to push all these people away. If I can just shut down and feel nothing, I can get through all of the disappointment...I wont have to feel it...and I can put all of my focus on helping those who are going to suffer the most...My girls.
So if I don't smile...Forgive me. If I don't want to talk to you...Forgive me. If I seem to lose some interest in the very things that used to bring me some measure of happiness...Forgive me. I know that I will disappoint you too. I am sure that I already have in some way or another over the years, so it is likely that you are used to it. Soon, I will not be myself anymore. I have already changed...There was once a girl who would do anything for a man that she met, until she had more disappointment than she could stand, and she began to shut down...and she began to change into someone that turned the disappointment table...But heaping disappointment on others doesn't make you feel better. In fact, it is as bad - or worse, than feeling the disappointment yourself. So I choose to feel nothing. In nothingness there wont be any disappointment. None to be delivered or received. So if I can't look you in the eye when we meet...forgive me. I am trying to spare you from disappointment. Because my tired, empty eyes will give it all away...That I have been friends with disappointment for years, and although she has been a hard friend to have hanging around all the time, she has always been there...Even though I have been a faithful companion, she is always looking for new people to be fast friends with. And I don't want it to be you.