I scared my dog today. I yelled so loudly on the phone that I scared my dog and he ran downstairs to get away from me. Yep, I’m that girl.
I was journaling this morning that divorcing is like if a body part that was once useful is now riddled with cancer and you are getting a little bit of it cut out of your body each day, for a few years.
Some days, especially lately, I don’t even notice that anything is being removed. I like those days. I smile more on those days. I laugh more. I am happy while riding my bike. Heck, I’ve even caught myself happy while putting laundry away.
But today, today was a painful cutting day. It involved my children. There were tears. There were harsh words. There was choosing not to engage, then making the bad choice to engage after all. There was the emerging of my protective mama bear instinct. Then there were I’m sorry’s. There is regret. There is the feeling that I’ll never truly get a handle on this. I hate days like this.
This is such a long road. And it’s uphill. And I don’t know if I’m coming or going, some days. And I can feel really alone. And I can totally second-guess myself.
Here’s my only hope for today… This was the first time I scared my dog with my yelling. And my dog has lived with us for over two months. So that means I have not lost my temper or yelled at anyone for, at the very least, sixty-seven days. That’s progress for me. I used to yell several times a day.
So though I feel sick to my stomach hours later, my dog has forgiven me, sitting at my feet as I type this, and I’m working on letting it all go myself. Just another cut in the painful removal process… If this post encouraged you, you would benefit from “Unraveling: Hanging onto Faith through the End of a Christian Marriage”, found here or “Living through Divorce as a Christian Woman”, found here.