Category Archives: broken heart

Home alone for the holidays

​There was only a short moment of video time to light the candles on the first night of Chanukah. There were no little voices on Christmas morning. No bright eyes or happy smiles to delight in the joy that Santa brought. My soul is missing their sweet faces. My heart is aching for them. Hours after I woke up I heard them for a few brief minutes. I tried to pile on the love as they distracted lyrics told me of all the joy he brought while they were there. Over a hundred miles away. 

I try to take solace in the fact that in two days they will be back in my arms. That we will still celebrate and it is only a day we missed not the spirit of the season. But I won’t lie, it’s not the same. To spend so much time raising to wonderful, amazing children and not be able to partake in their excitement hurts to the core. To have to split their lives in two, though logical is hard. And I want them to experience both sides of their parentage. I want them to know they are loved all over. I want them to know how many lives their being alive touches. But selfishly, I want them all for myself. They are my joy, my world and the light of my life. I am so proud to be their Mama. And this holiday season, this empty home has been hard on the heart. I can’t wait for them to come home.

Tears of a child

It breaks my heart when they cry. when we’ve come so far but there is a moment, a song or a memory that takes them back to a place they used to we. More EXACTLY a place WE used to be. And this month holds no exceptions. This season holds no boundaries. Dates, books, songs, smells…all the things and promises that were made, that were left unfulfilled. The questions that were left unanswered. All the smiles that have faded, the laughter that has floated by with the wind. I feel helpless sometimes and all I can do is hold them. Promise them it will get easier, promise them a better tomorrow. Make new memories to wipe away the painful ones. Still their are traces of your fingerprints on their hearts. Your signature in their books. Your picture in their minds. I don’t know how to deny them your existence but if I could I would wipe you from their minds, a clean slate because the tears that spill is so fresh with pain. so full of hurt and innocence. It is as if you never realized or cared how much you damaged their fragile beating hearts. For shame that their first heartbreak will always be in the name of a father and not some silly person that meant less than nothing to them. The name Daddy etched in their hearts will forever be a sad cross to bear. Something you ruined in your selfish pursuit of something different. The tears of a child are something that one should never be to blame for. And my anger that rises as I wipe those tears away is only so laced by the fact that I know in my heart I can give them a better tomorrow now that you are gone. That  one day they will know what it is to love and be loved by someone who genuinely is going to be there for them forever. Who doesn’t break their promises and who answers all their questions with kind words and a gentle hand. My children will be ok and one day the heartache will quiet. This season may be long and cold but we will get through it together. And you, your heart will forever have a hole from the loss these beautiful souls.

Life after the Faerietale; View from the patio

The chalk that stained the concrete with pictures is nothing more than dust by now and the laughter has all but faded. The sheet that covers the bikes is now faded and torn and the furniture has a fine coat of dust or pollen on it from remaining unused this past season. A mere memory of what this place used to be, the joy that it used to hold. As my eyes scan the objects that remain on the stone patio a breath escapes my lips and I close my eyes remembering the day I saw it for the first time.

The sun was shining and the day was hot, the laughter of my daughter was music in the air as she moved from room to room inside the empty apartment. I had only been there ten minutes and already I knew it was going to be my home. As I stood beneath the awning of the low stone wall of the patio I envisioned the glass table where we could sit while we ate outside. I saw the kids drawing on the cement in chalk and blowing bubbles out on the grass. I pictured a small grill that we could use on days like the one we were having, when we would have people over to show them how happy we were. I imagined warm nights where we would sit outside and talk and laugh for hours just enjoying the air, the stars and each others company. Everything about this place screamed home but this patio, this patio screamed a future that gave me a smile I could not wipe away.

As I run my fingers over the glass table I remember the nights where conversation turned into arguments. I feel the smiles turn into tears and wince as I can almost feel their wetness hit the surface of the table as vividly as if it was happening right now. I force my eyes open so the sound of silence takes over the sound of anger and the wind rushes in to usher away the pain that happened so very long ago. My eyes catch something blue on the ground and I laugh, a piece of chalk yet to be ground into dust as the rest has been long since used up and I bend to write the kids names on the ground. As I admire my handiwork I smile and remember how many chalky footsteps covered the carpet after hours of drawings took place right here and thousands of memories were made. I let those memories seep in to replace the ones that try to hard to drag me down.

Taking a seat in a chair that has long since felt a warm body I idly draw in the dust on the table. Hope, dreams, forever…words I trace into the residue on the table. Words I believe in for me, for them and those words give me a strength that I know I have inside. I hear laughter in the house, this time I realize though that my house is already full. Full of love and warmth, the house which is already mine and I don’t have to reach out to grab that dream because I already have it. So what if the dream is different than when I held this moment for the first time. The laughter is still there, the opportunity to make memories worth smiling upon is on me now. I seize the moment to grab a rag and dust off the table. The words I drew are gone but the sentiment is till there. The sentiment to dream a new, the hope always, to love forever. The laughter in my house is sweet music to my ears and I look around at the patio with a glimmer of expectation in my heart. There will be laughter again, sweet memories to dwell on, chalk filled days and wish filled nights. I can feel it in my soul.

Therapy is not NOT an option

I didn’t go to therapy today. I know I need to but I really just didn’t want to. I surmise that this is for many reasons. Such as…My new antibiotics are making feel I’ll, I’m wicked tired, I know we’re starting to discuss emotional regulation today and my father in law passed away yesterday. All of these are very good reasons (well except one) for not going to group today but what lies under all of them is the fact that I really just didn’t want to go. Now, first of all, I believe it is helping me, more often than not I practice my debt skills to get me through the day. I try to be mindful and shuffle through all the skillfully playing cards they give me in order to cope with the outside world. I do not however like the fact that I have to keep track of what I am doing or follow each class up with himework. It makes me feel like a child and not an adult who is profiting from a group scenario. I think that is one of the reasons I get so snarky about it sometimes. Anyway, I do feel like crap from a third round of antibiotics I’ve been put on and will be going back to sleep for at least a little while.

As I sit here in my dim room with my pumpkin spice frappe (it’s amazing be jealous) I am drawn to the fact that I want so desperately to clean it, yet I can’t find the energy to do it. Granted I haven’t been high on spoons and I use most of them on my kids but there’s more to it than that. You see my room isn’t a mess per say, there are just parts of it that have clutter or need sorted out. There’s a brand new bookshelf that needs to be filled with all the wonderous books that I have. Some whose covers have never yet been opened. I think a lot of this is like my mind, a huge space so full of stuff that only the carefulness can navigate and find there way thtough. Easy to see what’s there but to delve into the hidden spots takes a keen eye and an intelligent mind. Things are hidden away. Locked treasures that you need to find the key for. One of them being my heart. But that box has multiple keys.

Speaking of which, so I was on Whisper the other day, where I received a very nice compliment. I wasn’t sure what part on my post deserved such a compliment but I appreciated it non the less. This is what I wrote.

And in very unhappy news, I am still numb after the phone call I got from the ex husband that his step dad had passed. Now I don’t generally think most people stay close to their ex’s family after a divorce but his mom, step-dad and siblings remained family to me. We exchange cards, pics, calls and whatnot. Living on two different coasts has made it hard on visits and I now feel guilty that he never got to meet my pixie. I am just taken totally aback by the situation. So I will be strong and I will push through. Gotta plan a trip sometime.

My thoughts are churning out endless streams of who knows what at the moment, so I shall  attempt to shut them down and nap. My tip of the day. Self love. Do it!

Sparkle thoughts

Xox

Breakthrough Depression in Words

Walking down the shore at dusk, the air is soft and warm, the smell of the ocean is inviting. My mind begins to wander, thoughts of what is yet to come fill my mind and I sigh happily content with what the future may bring. And then it happens, I hear a little voice in my head and that voice isn’t talking to me. It is a distant memory that I have buried in the back of my mind and it is getting louder. One glance out to the ocean and I can tell it is uneasy. As the waves begin to bubble up my body tries to turn so that my steps take me further from the waters edge but I am frozen. I am frozen as the sudden wave comes crashing over me, threatening to pull me into the depths of the water. As the waves crest to crash again I hear that voice louder this time. The water stings my eyes and as I try to blink I see memories of the days in the past. The water is tugging at me and it knocks me to the ground. The swell happens again and the voices and the pictures and the memories flood over me as I cling to the sand holding on for dear life. Tears fill my eyes over and over again and the waves crash and I sob, nails digging into the shore unwilling to let myself be pulled into the chaotic whirlpool that is the angry water. The waves last an indeterminant amount of time, and the salt water mixes with my tears and I am no longer able to tell the difference. My body is sandy and soaking as I press myself to the sand begging the water to cease. Finally, battered and worn, I feel the warm air on my back again and I realize the water is further away than it was to start. The waves have calmed and my body is tired. I pull myself into a sitting position, knees to chest, arms wrapped around to warm myself and I watch as the sun finally sinks into the water. My eyes swollen from the memories they saw, my body tired from the fearsome fight and my mind full of what ifs. But I made it, and it did not pull me down this time. I am allowed to cry, I am allowed to feel sorrow and pain, I am allowed to fight through the pain all of it caused but I am NOT allowed to give up. I deserve the solace and peace of mind that comes with moving forward. I deserve the happiness that lays in front of me. I know the ocean has not finished its fight with me and I never know when it is going to try to pull me under again but I know that I will be ok. I’ve come so far and I am ok.

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Beautiful words. Shattered dreams

I cleaned out the happy jar, to save myself the pain of doing it at the end of year. My children should not think about what we’ve lost. I found beautiful words.

Lovely memories to smile upon 

But as I smiled the tears began to tall. Because such wonderful words were marred as I remembered…

That a little over 6 weeks later. The dreams turned to nightmares.

I began to cry harder as I wondered what was real and what was fake. Did those words express what was really felt.

I realized I believed in the words. In the life we once had. And I cried for the confusion. The loss of something real. Something beautiful. Something that will never be repaired.

A love that was so pure. An end that was never written. In the stars. A tragic faerietale.

Radical Acceptance

This is a topic we covered in depth at DBT today. It is a topic that comes up quite a bit in distress tolerance and one that is the hardest for me to grasp. Mind you I know exactly what it is, I know how to do it (in theory) and I know how it works. But fuck my life if it comes easily to me. I sit here listening to a playlist I made on Spotify for one of the many manuscripts I am writing and I have tears dripping down my cheeks. The only saving grace is that I already cried off all of my eyeliner in the last hour of the group, so I am not going to look like a raccoon after writing this. I am sitting here staring at my phone, not paying attention to the keys I am pressing, knowing I can just auto correct this in Grammarly and repeating to myself “Radical Acceptance Shaye, do NOT pick up that phone, don’t do it, you are stronger than this…”.

The principle of radical acceptance is that things happen in life that is painful, stressful, hurtful and sad and you just have to accept them. You accept that these things happen and move forward. You can’t change them, you can’t change the emotions they cause so you accept them for what they are and you go forward in your life. Easy right? For more things yes, yes they can be considered very easy. Sometimes, accepting things comes very easy to individuals and sometimes they are very hard. My therapist put it this way. There is a difference between pain and suffering. It is like stepping on a nail. You can feel the pain and take your foot off the nail and move on, or you can keep your foot on that nail and continue to feel the pain…THAT is suffering. The point of radical acceptance is to not let yourself suffer. I have radically accepted a lot of things in my life. But one thing, in particular, I have realized I have accepted but I am still suffering because my foot in some small way is still on that nail. That is why the tears fell from my eyes for an hour discussing this principle in the group. I have still not radically accepted the biggest change in my life. And I really want to but I don’t know how.

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I have radically accepted –

My diagnoses’ of BPD, BPII and all the fun stuff that comes with it

My 5 autoimmune diseases

My divorce from my ex-husband

My inability to lose weight without a medical intervention

The fact that my miscarriages were NOT my fault

The death of people I have loved so much

I have accepted –

That I have lost the one person I have truly loved

 

I am having trouble radically accepting the three facts above. I having trouble with accepting them because I don’t know if any of what happened between us was real. I can not radically accept any of those emotions because I don’t know if anything he said was true. I don’t know if he meant all those pretty words that came out of his mouth. I know he has said them to her and who knows if he said them before me. He said forever and always and he didn’t mean them or he would still be around. He promised me family and children but that’s out the window too. They say karma’s a bitch and he hurt me so he will be hurt. But I don’t want him hurt, and if I got hurt that badly who the hell did I piss off in order for me to be hurt that badly in the first place? Is anything I am saying make sense or am I snowballing down a treacherous slope? The thing is I am healing, I have moved past it, but a song, a word, a memory creeps in and I doubt the things that happened. I doubt that the year of my life made any impact on anyone except my children and I. Why bother wasting a year of your life if you never meant the words. You moved on from the pain like you felt no pain. You left all the pain for me to feel while you can go and give someone else the promise of forever when you have known them not even a fraction of the time you knew me. And you said I gave you the meaning of love. And what sucks is that I don’t know if anything you said was real. Except goodbye. I know that was real. And you couldn’t even say goodbye, it was just silence. With an apology to someone else. I can’t radically accept something that has no ending, no closure. It was all a fantastical daydream that turned into a nightmare. And it left me with the one thing that I never have. Regret. I regret it and you How am I supposed to radically accept regret.fc0fc5fe5fe5e5cf5b6cbc764815eaa7

I hope I understand it soon. I hope I can radically accept it soon. I hope boxing the rest of it up and getting it out my house helps. The memories, the pictures, the pieces of our handfasting, the pieces of your mother that you left with me…Why? Why keep what was a lie? One big dream. One last nightmare. Faerietale suicide.

 

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I was, I am, I will be

When you met me I was broken. A shattered girl who was scared. Scared to love, to trust, to believe in herself let alone anyone else. Anger, confusion, sadness all bubbling just under the surface of the calm. Tears not to far behind those emerald eyes, just yearning for the trigger to snap so they could flow. Gently you pushed, you built a bridge to let me cross, to make me believe. I did, I believed, I trusted, I belonged. All that pain and fear went away.
Now you’re gone and I’m OK. Everyday I’m OK. I breathe and live and laugh. I dream and hope and wish. I create and devise and heal. I’m OK everyday and everyway…until it comes to love.

Then I am broken. A shattered girl who is scared. Scared to love, to trust, to believe in herself let alone anyone else. Anger, confusion, sadness all bubbling just under the surface of the calm. Tears not to far behind those emerald eyes, just yearning for the trigger to snap so they can flow.

This time…you are the reason. You are the one that broke me. That made me believe and then shattered every promise you gave me. I could have been ok. But you came back and gave me a final word. Of everlasting friendship and family. Then you shattered that. Not just for me. For my family. All of us. You made us believe. Then you stomped on that belief. And you never said you were sorry. You never said goodbye.

I told you once, everyone I have ever loved leaves me behind. You said you never would…Liar

One day, the pain will fade. I will set your memory aflame.Your invasion of my soul will subside. I long for that day. The day I can hear a song without cringing, your  name without twinning, watch a movie without tears in my eyes. One day I’ll be free to love again. Because I know what that word means. Because when you love, it isn’t easy to get over and move on. There is always a piece left behind, as a reminder of who you used to be.

Firework revalations

I cried today. I didn’t mean to, the tears weren’t planned, weren’t really expected at all but they happened…and after it was all said and done I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. 

It was 10pm at the California Grill, on the balcony of the Contemporary resort in Orlando. I was standing there with my best friend just two days away from her wedding. We were watching the fireworks light up the sky over the Magic Kingdom. Jiminey Cricket was talking about wishes and the music flourished as the story unfolding. My cheeks were wet almost immediately.

For the first time in I don’t  know how long I didn’t flinch at the sound of the fireworks, I was just immersed in the beauty. I felt the tears well up and flow. My emotions growing as he talked about wishes and dreams and hopes. I felt the dam inside me bteak. Everything that had been lent up for months came flowing down my cheeks like rivers. Thank heavens for makeup setting spray. 

I clung to my sangria glass like a life boat as I watched the sky light up, I felt her hand on my back. In that m ok mentioned I was of one mind. I knew that it was the release I finally needed.

I am not ashamed that I cried during a magical display in one of the happiest places on earth. In fact, I hope to do it again sometime. It really felt like my soul became thousands of pounds lighter. 

Firework revalations

I cried today. I didn’t mean to, the tears weren’t planned, weren’t really expected at all but they happened…and after it was all said and done I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. 

It was 10pm at the California Grill, on the balcony of the Contemporary resort in Orlando. I was standing there with my best friend just two days away from her wedding. We were watching the fireworks light up the sky over the Magic Kingdom. Jiminey Cricket was talking about wishes and the music flourished as the story unfolding. My cheeks were wet almost immediately.

For the first time in I don’t  know how long I didn’t flinch at the sound of the fireworks, I was just immersed in the beauty. I felt the tears well up and flow. My emotions growing as he talked about wishes and dreams and hopes. I felt the dam inside me bteak. Everything that had been lent up for months came flowing down my cheeks like rivers. Thank heavens for makeup setting spray. 

I clung to my sangria glass like a life boat as I watched the sky light up, I felt her hand on my back. In that m ok mentioned I was of one mind. I knew that it was the release I finally needed.

I am not ashamed that I cried during a magical display in one of the happiest places on earth. In fact, I hope to do it again sometime. It really felt like my soul became thousands of pounds lighter.