Have you ever exerted time and energy to get to a place where you feel like maybe you can exhale only to have that bitch known as karma smack you back into reality?
It’s almost a year to the day that my happy little life was turned upside down. It’s actually almost 5 years to the day that it happened the first time. (Clearly Memorial weekend and I do not get along.) I’ve been having vividly real dreams lately about my former life. In fact twice in the past few weeks, I’ve woken up believing that I was in my condo on Rollins Court in Merrimack only to have reality set in moments later as I adjusted to being awake. (Seriously, if anyone could invent an intravenous coffee alarm clock, the world would be a happier place!)
Five years ago my marriage ended. I’ve heard it takes about 3 years to recover, financially and emotionally, from divorce. I believe this to be true. My marriage ended in May of 2009 and in October of 2012 when I moved into the above mentioned condo, I finally felt like I was at the beginning of my book. I had finally turned the last page of the old one and I was ready to start over, ready to provide a better life for myself and my boys.
Apparently I was on a collision course with fate at the time and failed to realize it because in May of 2013 my life fell apart. Four years I spent scratching, clawing and climbing my way out of the depths, only to have someone standing at the top, peeling my fingers off the ledge one by one until I crashed back down to the bottom.
… and I laid there for a long time. I laid there and let shit just keep piling on top of me. I laid there and let life happen around me unwilling to participate. I laid there and felt sorry for myself for a long, long time. I laid there because I had convinced myself that accepting my life as a failure was better than holding onto hope that it would one day get better again.
Eventually I got up and started climbing again. I mean people have it worse, right? Actually that had nothing to do with picking myself up. I am a firm believer that telling someone to cheer up because others have it worse is complete and utter bullshit. That’s like saying I can’t be happy because others have it better.
Anyway, a year after my unfortunate incident I’m trying to climb back up that mountain called life. I have to be honest. It looks an awful lot like Mount Everest these days, but one step at a time, right?
I think I’m dreaming of my condo and remembering so vividly because I’m tired, more like exhausted, and I don’t know if I have 4 more years of climb in me. I’m older now and whatever youthful optimism might have remained at 36 has long since disappeared at 41. I’ve traveled this road before, the twists and turns, the bumps, the potholes, the road blocks…I’ve run down that road before and I know that there might be water stations and cheering crowds along the way, but the reality is that making it to the finish line is going to be an effort all my own… and I ask myself daily, do I have that kind of effort in me again?
I’m never going to have it easy. I have accepted that as part of my life. Hopefully I’ll never be in a position where I need to slay dragons either like so many that face serious health or other issues. I have people who love and support me and I have a lot of reasons to keep climbing this latest mountain…
…and I will, even if I get kicked in the face at the top once again.
I don’t need to be anyone’s hero but my own. As down as I may get at times, I have complete faith in my ability to get up most mornings and find something to love about my life even if it isn’t perfect.