Looking for a cheery Christmas post? Then stop, back away, and check back next month. Last night I had major meltdown #98. After weeks of hearing of all the grand plans that the boys have with their dad over Christmas break, I walked in to find one of them playing a video game online with one of other woman’s kids. It felt like I had been slapped. I had no idea that for months, my ex had been grooming the relationship with her kids and mine. Yes, I am sure it is good that they won’t all be total strangers, but it caused everything to come crashing down. My ex leaves me, in May and since then has bought a house, gotten her pregnant, gotten married, got an IPhoneX, and now he will have my sons for his “perfect family” over the holidays. I, meanwhile, am going to a friend’s and will try to not make Christmas miserable for her family. It is just so hard to hear about the “perfect” life he is living, all the while I cannot seem to get through the grief.
I told a friend last night that it s like a cavernous bullet wound. Nine months ago, I got shot and that bullet has never been out, rather just meandering through my body and causing problems when I least expect it. Yes, some people might say that God “has been faithful” and is providing relief in the form of friends helping fix broken windows or helping with the kids or a sitter that has not quit. But, honestly, I feel like it is really just band-aids on the bullet wound. It is like God is tossing me the leftovers just to make me shut up about everything for a few days.
I am tired of this grief just stopping me in my tracks. I am tired of trying to keep my sh** together and failing. I am tired of my kids seeing me cry. And before you all throw out “you need to see a therapist”, I have…two different ones. One just sat and listened by did nothing to help me grieve and the other one kept having me do tasks and I felt worse and more like a failure every appointment. The reality is that this whole scenario is just so bizarre, it sounds like something out of a bad book or movie, but it is what I live with every day. And I have yet to find a therapist that is able to help me work through it without making me feel like every time I lose it, I have failed my sons and am screwing them up. I am going to try and start Divorce Care in the new year, but I risk going into that with even too messy of a story for a group setting.
So, tomorrow I will place my sons on a plane, ask for a hug, and be denied one, because, yeah, my sons won’t even hug me anymore. I will be lucky to get a mumbled “love you” and then will likely try and call them every day and get a 2-minute conversation, if they answer at all. I am not being a pessimist, but I do know my sons. Then, while everyone is celebrating Christmas with family and the birth of the savior, I will be struggling to hold it all together all the while feeling like there is something very wrong with me that has lead up to the events of the last year. So, whatever, bring on another band-aid, when I need a lot more than that.