My Conversation with the Reaper

Life After Death

I was on hiatus for so long that I have overhauled the blog and gave it a new look. Sorry for being gone so long, Mental health takes time.

August 5th will be 3 years since the divorce. Its been 2 years since my ex husband died.  A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to type that without having a severe panic attack, and complete breakdown. The man I had thought was my soulmate was dead. Gone. Never coming back. I was relieved my abuser was no longer going to hurt me, but my heart still hurt for him. I made some choices in my grief that I shouldn't have, unable to see the harm I was doing to my own self. It was a terrible beginning to a long downward spiral. Two months later my Best Friend Kira committed Suicide. For a reason I would have related to the year before. Some how I had the strength to fight it, when she did not. My heart died that day. A funeral of sorts was had for it. I  drank, and did drugs like the future was never going to rise over the horizon. I was lost. Just existing. Not accepting of the life that was in front of me. I had unpacked, and laid down on the dirty floor of my grief. I lived in that space for what felt like an eternity. I went to work, came home, drank, smoked, all while wallowing in my bullshit. I wasn't trying at all. I had given up. I still functioned on a societal level, went to work, did my job with a smile, and appeared normal at all costs to my sanity out in public with friends or family. I was a ghost in a shell.  

I dated like my heart wasn't missing. Desperately searching for something to make me feel whole. I really bounced from one abusive relationship to another. I had no kindness in my heart for even my own bruised soul. It was my invitation to the Reaper. I was welcoming his embrace more and more every day. I was reckless. I didn't want to live any more. I felt so alone. I had never felt so low in all my years of citizenship to this planet my soul resides on.  I ended up in an another shitty relationship. Throwing all my attention to this person. Being a codependent. I was over accommodating at best. He took advantage of my affections. Used me, and then laid hands on me. During this time I had supported him in Jail. Money, visits. I did what I thought I was supposed to do. After he got out, he wasn't the dude I thought he was. Mean, rude, stealing from me, not coming home when he said he would be. RED flag city. I was so depressed. Tired. I just couldn't do it any more. I finally confided in my brother. He pushed me to seek help with a therapist. I slept on it for a few days, and decided I wanted something more out my life than sadness every day. I made the call, set the appointment, and kept it. I began what I like the call The Reckoning out of Hell. 

I  walked in to that office not expecting any sort relief. I sat on her big red couch, feeling the smoothness of the fake leather underneath my hands. Her office was bigger than any other Therapists' I had ever been in. Two windows that use the crank style knobs to open. She had a corner office. It was February 21st. Snow covered the trees that can be seen through both windows. A male Cardinal was perched on the tree directly outside the window behind her big chair, watching us talk. The candle that sits on top of the bookcase to the left of me against the wall has a scent that was thought provoking. I recognized it, but still to this day can't figure from where. To my right was another couch, but the details escape me as my attention had wondered around the room, to see how her desk was messy, but organized. Easy brownie point there. She was one hell of a smart woman. Intelligent people are messy, but have an organized chaos. There were pictures of her family on the book shelf, the small table at the right of the big red couch, and on her desk. Beautiful family. I trusted all these things as safe to assume she comes from a place of love. It was in that room that I found hope for the first time ever. I broke down in her office that day telling her my truths. My reason for seeking her out. I cried for that whole 50 minutes. I was a hot mess, and she could tell. We spoke of treatment plans, and what I hoped I would get from this journey out of Hell. I felt hope. Real hope. Within my grasp. Attainable to me was peace and joy, 2 things I had never truly been able to find. And the biggest emotion that lead the drive, was the need for love, self love. That was being put in front of me as well. All these things that complete the human soul. I was ready, finally ready to put in the work to get some skills to fix my life. I took those first steps that day.

I started this journey 480 days ago.  At the beginning I was an emotionally inept toddler. I would spiral, often. One extreme to the other. I was all over the place, running at full speed. Knocking over proverbial vases in my life. But I was learning quickly. As soon as I fell, I was back up. Nothing was going to keep me from getting better. That same determination is driving me still today. Once things start to make sense as to why I did what I did, I was able to start climbing out the emotional abyss I had created for myself. Self epiphanies started to roll in like a hurricane coming ashore. Day by day, and appointment by appointment I started to feel less like dying, and more like living. I wanted that future she kept telling me I had. Fast forward a year and half later, I am where I am supposed to be. I still fight my demons, but I no longer reside in Hell. I told that place to kiss my ass, as I no longer wanted to be its ruler. Like an adult I managed life finally.   I worked, paid my bills, went out with my friends, and connected with my faith again. I braved every new storm. I let them wash me over like a baptism of futures to come. Accepting of my strength to stay standing on the beach. Knowing I'm going to be knocked down the wind, but also knowing I have the skills to get back on my feet fueled by my own resilience.  I refuse to be torn down ever again. I am no where ready to let go of my therapist, seeing as now I have new emotion to navigate in healthy ways. I learned to love myself. 

Though as every story goes, As soon as I learned how to love myself, an old flame  waltzed in to my new life.  Now this old flame is a guy I dated back in high school for like 4 months. He broke up with me at a party with no reason why, or any type of explanation. I was heartbroken as a teenager. I had done nothing to warrant the breakup. But at 16 life moves fast, and you get over it. Fast forward to 24 to when we hook up again. Only This time I am in the middle of a breakup with who was to become my husband at a later time. It was a very chaotic time in my life. I saw my old flame until the ex decided he still wanted me. Without warning I changed my number and ghosted my old flame. I felt guilt over it for some time. I had a feeling I wasn't meant to leave him behind. Again, fast forward with me here, to 31 years old. Now him and I are back at this. It all started with a message from his best friend on a dating app called POF giving me my old flame's number. My old flame  even went out of his way to make a profile just to contact me. To me, that is some end game moves. The date we met up was February 17th 2018.

Now move with me forward in time once more to the present where him and I are still doing this "We're just having fun" gig. Only I don't feel like it is just fun any more. I have fallen in love with him. And Que the new reason I still need my therapist. I have never once in my life had a healthy relationship. Not once. I don't know how to handle it. I am so used to rushing into things, that his unwillingness to give us a label has frustrated me. I want to take it slow, and hold this loosely; but I also want to have his heart like he does mine. The worst part of the whole thing is the fact I can't tell him I love him. We aren't together. Yet we act as if we are. Weekends together at his step dad's cabin, or swanky hotels in the cities. Adventures left and right happening with us. Nights just cuddling on the downstairs couch. Plus too many other various things that couples do. He treats me so well. Never a hurtful word or action at my expense. He has helped me with my car twice now, when he could have just let me go to a mechanic I can't afford. Never has a man been so kind to me. My heart has never wanted something so bad. This is all too new me to process at my normal rate though. I'm struggling and stumbling. I have never felt this way towards any single one person in my life. It's so different from what my marriage was, or any relationship I've had for that matter. It's healthy. I'm finally having a healthy adult relationship. 

Now my journey starts another chapter of navigating the world Life after Death: What happens when The fallen Angel has found redemption.