Grieving the End of a Relationship

May 2, 2012 by

When it is over… when you know that you will not be seeing each other any longer, there is a grieving process at the end of every relationship. Whether it is a romantic entanglement, a friendship that has run its course or when your therapist moves away, allow yourself time to work through the loss.

On Monday, I had my last session with the therapist that I have had since last May/June. She was the first therapist in years (yes, literally) that I had bonded with. I understand why… she was a resident, still a newbie, if you’ll forgive the term. She hasn’t had time to become jaded yet. She has long to go before she becomes burnt out on the horror stories of some people’s lives. She did not close herself off to me; she allowed herself to be a real person in session. That was a gift that I truly appreciated.

I went in thinking I would stay in control of myself and steer the short time left around surface subjects. It worked well for the first few minutes or so. We talked about her moving away. She went over the standard *What To Do Next* form. And then, probably because I am PMS’ing and I hadn’t seen her since March and it was going to be the last time… the floodgates opened without warning.

I told her what happened when I went with DH to the pain doctor the last week of March. I shared with her how I bragged to the anesthesiologist that DH would be getting his 90 day chip on April 7th and how proud I was of him. My therapist nodded when I told her how I had forgotten that he peed in a cup when we first got there.  So when he left ahead of me to go to physical therapy, I didn’t think about it as I stayed behind to set up an appointment schedule. Then I told her how the doctor called me back in the office and said he failed the test. He tested positive for marijuana.

I told her how much that fucking sucked.

I explained how I came to my heart-wrenching decision to continue to stay with him. Even though he still doesn’t get it… that I don’t give a shit about anyone smoking pot… my issue was with the lying. I was actually grateful that it wasn’t the pills again.

I re-lived how he continued to lie to me once we were in the car… insisting that the test had come out incorrectly. So, I offered to run by the store and get a new test and we would send it to a lab ourselves to prove that her test was wrong and he refused. I threatened to end the marriage if he didn’t take the test and he said he didn’t care.  And then he took it back and admitted that he had smoked and didn’t want to tell me because he didn’t want to have this fight.

HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS MAN STILL NOT KNOW ME AFTER A DECADE OF MARRIAGE?

I said that if he had come to me and said that he couldn’t take it any more and needed to smoke that I would have dealt with it. Because that was the truth. Hell, I grew up in South Florida. I don’t think I have ever dated someone who didn’t smoke.

What should have been the deal breaker was the lying. It should have been, but wasn’t.

Then I told her I had been dealing with it by eating and watching t.v. and trying not to think. Forcing myself to not allow anything of substance to come into my mind.

And that I had put on another 8 pounds and now weigh more than I did the day I delivered the twins. That I keep having to go out to buy clothes in a size I have never purchased before and how much I hate myself for dealing with things this way.

Then somehow… we ended things on a lighter note. That we were able to say that I have made progress in certain areas in the last year, like the agoraphobia.

Now, back outside the office, standing alone, the blackness takes form and sits beside me. It’s shadow edged towards my feet and covered me inch by slow inch until I became enveloped in its despair. I am exhausted by unsettled sleep, overindulgence in cola and the mindless alternation between salty and sweet things to have on my tongue while I watch Lifetime movies.

And I wait. I wait for the morning that I wake up and say that this has to stop. I wait for the day when I find enough self-care to stop doing the things I know I shouldn’t be doing. I look in the mirror and miss the cutting I did as a teenager…. I look at my belly and my upper arms and wish that I could choose the blade over food. I do know that both are wrong, but when you are stuck and all you can see are the evil choices – you can wish you had more strength to choose between them instead of taking the easier way out.

And I grieve for the relationship I lost. Not the one between me and DH, but the one I had with my therapist.

Love from Sage

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Fifty Shades of Grey ~ Erotica Book Review

Apr 21, 2012 by

A dear friend of mine recommended “Fifty Shades of Grey” by E L James to me. I read the reviews on Amazon and was frankly a little nervous that I was wasting my money. Despite my reservations, I ordered it and I am so glad I did.

Fifty Shades of Grey by E L James

Fifty Shades of Grey is the first of an erotic romance trilogy (the two others I ordered tonight) published by Vintage Books, a division of Random House. I think I must have been living in some n0n-book cave that I wasn’t aware of it as it has been number one on the New York Times Bestseller list and a GoodRead Choice Awards finalist. It has been discussed on the Today show, on the cover of Entertainment magazine and made the rounds on many book blogs.

My biggest surprise wasn’t that I’ve been living in the dark about it, but the amount of negative reviews this work has received. So, you might find it refreshing to see that I am going to be positive about it and urge you to get your own copy right away.

Ms. James shares the story of Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. They meet after Anastasia is pushed into interviewing the wealthy young man and the sparks fly. The twist is her innocence paired with his dark experience as he introduces her into his world of BDSM (much heavier to the BD side). He is overwhelming and beautiful and broken just enough to make it a joy to watch him heal just a little by having her in his life. The end left me hanging enough that I’m annoyed I wasn’t brave enough to order the entire series at once. Now, I am forced to wait for Monday’s Amazon delivery.

For those that appreciate that type of spice in their life, it is exciting to see a book that makes the BDSM world understandable and within reach. Even more so, to have it become quickly popular within mainstream culture.

As someone who has only fantasized about a Dom/sub relationship, the knowledge within these pages was quite a revelation. It was tantalizing and kept my mind running possible real life scenarios.

In reading some of the not-so-nice reviews, I wondered why they found it hard to fathom many readers’ appreciation. While I couldn’t relate quite to the bondage experiences, I totally got the love between them. In addition, I have felt such a high level of passion for someone and as someone who was abused as we can surmise Mr. Grey was – the need for control is huge. There is much to relate to and there is much to be aroused by within the 514 pages.

It is a great story and perhaps more importantly, a memorable one. Enjoy!

Hugs from Sage

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Breaking the Ice

Mar 18, 2012 by

How do you approach someone that you want to talk to but haven’t in a really long time? Do you get nervous and embarrassed because you don’t have a clue what to say to them?

Well, that is how I feel about writing this post.

Do I jump right back in and don’t acknowledge that I haven’t written anything in basically five months? Or do I write something small and slowly nudge myself back into your memory and hopefully, your good blog graces?

Guess which one I’m going with?

 

:::nudge:::nudge:::

 

Life has been an amazing roller coaster ride since my last check-in. I was on such a high through the holidays and then crashed two days after when I found DH’s stash of pills and realized he had been lying to me and stealing from me all those months. Nothing had been real. The feelings that were slowly resurfacing, the plans we were making for a life together. Nothing.

Then came a short stint in rehab for him and me trying to move past the anger and the hurt.

So, if he is telling the truth this time around, it means that in just a couple of weeks, he will be 90 days clean and sober. But I have that *if* that is going to stick around for a good long while.

And I was gifted with an epiphany. It seems that for me… people can tell me the same thing over and again and I won’t get it until I hear it in a way that my brain comprehends it. Someone finally talked about forgiveness in a way that actually resonated with me all the way to my soul.

Forgiveness is not forgetting what happened to you. Forgiveness is not condoning what happened to you.

Forgiveness is giving up the hope that you can change the past. Forgiveness is accepting that *it* happened and not allowing *it* to eat away at you until there is nothing left.

And forgiveness is what I was finally able to obtain… on a regular Saturday afternoon.

I haven’t forgotten what was done. I don’t condone what was done. But I do know that what was done was done and no amount of hope can change that. I can keep my hope for the future and allow the past to lay in the past. I can write about it. I can examine it. I can share it so that it may help others know that they aren’t alone, but I do not have to be angry about it any longer.

Not at them.

And not at me.

Okay… ice broken! What shall we talk about next?

Hugs from Sage

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Vaginal Beauty and Body Image Issues

Nov 24, 2011 by

Have you seen this photo going around the net showing off this baker’s talents and creativity?

 

Do they look good enough to eat?

I’ve always had body image issues. At, 5′ 6″, the smallest I could starve myself down to as a teenager was 112 and a size 3/5. I accomplished this through a combination of anorexia and bulimia. But I hated my body. I thought everything from the waist down was ugly… my vagina, my thighs, and even my feet. I didn’t want anything to do with those parts of myself and I didn’t think anyone would like them either.

Assuming my daughter is lucky to escape experiencing the things I had to deal with, she is still going to be bombarded with images in the media that most of us cannot live up to. How in the world do I give her tools to keep her self-esteem intact? All I can do is take advantage of moments that pop up unexpectedly when we speak of love that she should also include herself on the list. If I speak negatively about the way I look now, I always put it in the context of health… Mommy should not be this big because it is not healthy and it takes away my energy to play with her. Or Mommy is working at being at a healthy weight instead of using the word diet.

Because of my illness that I dealt with over the last 6 months, all the weight I had lost has come back on. I have had to be so sedentary. Look out New Year’s Eve… some major resolutions will be coming from me — a rare thing indeed.

No amount of walking is going to change the look of my vagina though. And I think I am okay with that, finally.

Last week, I had DH look at these cupcakes and I asked which one looked most like me. He had to pick several for me to get the full picture. Then I actually took photos of myself. Yes, I took pictures of my vagina. (No, I will not be posting them on the Gallery… at least not right away. *grinning* Can’t have you figuring out which one is mine, can I?)

My pussy looks different from how I remember it. I had c-sections, so it is not from giving birth. I think it is age. The inner lips have darkened a bit. The hair surrounding it, protecting it is sparser now and lighter from stray grays here and there. The full outer lips are still plump and I can actually say that I like them like that.

Some women have always relished that private, dark and lush part of themselves, but as I’ve mentioned before – I was always so uncomfortable that it was rare that I allowed a man to go down on me. As if it were a separate entity that didn’t that type of up-close intrusion. Of course I think that stems from the abuse and I wish I could share something specific that has made me come around to appreciation.

I don’t know if it is the work I’ve done internally, age, maturity or a little bit of each mixed together, but it is okay to love that part of me. Vagina. Cunt. Pussy. Vejayjay. I’ve come even further since the last time I blogged about it and tried to get the Vagina Beautiful Gallery off the ground. I’m not even blushing as I write this time. *smiles*

Maybe it is just me, but there is a certain power benefit that comes with loving your body. I’m not talking about using your body to get what you want, but loving your body allows you to get to a point where you want to do healthy things for it. Like not abusing it with food. LOL

Did you have an *Ah Ha* moment that changed your point of view about your body?

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