Monday, January 7, 2013

“I’m ok”

After facing the hard truth that my hang up on The Runner was less about him and more about me doubting if I’m ok, I spent the weekend (and am still) thinking about what this means.  I never learned the resilience of “stuff happens” in life but I’m ok. Instead I somehow decided that stuff is happening because of me. As a result of something being wrong with me. And if only I could address what is wrong, then I could control/prevent stuff from happening.  But it’s not true. There is nothing to control. And on some level, I know things did not happen because of me.

So I kinda know that stuff happens.  Maybe I wasn’t the catalyst for many of the painful events that have occurred. Maybe I wasn’t the let-down of a wife that my ex made me feel to be. Maybe I wasn’t the dull, weight dragging The Runner down that I felt like each time he told me he didn’t “fit into a family environment”.  Maybe I can let myself off the hook (this will take A LOT of work). But....“I’m ok”?  Am I, really? It sure doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m running on empty. Dangerously close to sputtering to a stop. In need of a recharge.

I re-read this blog. Horrified by the amount of energy I’ve spent worrying about what others think. Specifically, tieing my “ok-ness” to whomever I was dating.  At first I thought that I haven’t moved forward. But then I took a step back and saw things that I’ve done differently, that I wouldn’t have done a year ago:
1) I ended it with The Runner instead of working and working to force it to work.
2) I have not contacted The Runner since the last blog post.  I have a strong urge to hear him say “you are ok” and I keep reminding myself that it doesn’t matter what he says, what he thinks, or what he’s doing right now. I’m ok, I need to know it, I’m ok.
3) I know what I deserve. And I’m taking steps to let go of anything less.

The disappointment with The Runner was a big hit. Bigger than I expected. I hoped it would work out. In truth, I actually thought that it would (not logical, I know, but I’m driven by heart, barely balanced by sound mind). The hit came at the worst time, when the holidays bring isolation to a painful razor sharp point.  It knocked me down. And I’m scared to get back up because I don’t want to endure another wave.

I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok. I hold my hand over my heart every morning and repeat these words until I can open my eyes and face the world. I think of Grace and our dog and tell myself I’m ok. 


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