break-up

States of Matter

Posted on May 19, 2012 by stilllearning2b

Which state of matter best describes you?

Solids are comprised of tightly packed molecules. They are rigid, holding their own shape. The atoms that make up a solid are stuck, their movement compromised by the proximity of their neighbors. If you are a solid, you are fixed in your life. Your environment does not impact your shape, as you resist influence from your surroundings. If too much resistance is applied, a solid crumbles and fragments, but it takes quite a bit for this to occur. Solids are consistent, yet their stalwart nature can make them vulnerable to fragmentation or erosion.

The particles that form liquids are freer to move, yet they posses cohesive properties that encourage them to remain in proximity to each other. The defining characteristic of a liquid is that it takes the shape of its container. If you are a liquid, you allow the environment to shape you, yet you maintain a a sense of self held in the solidarity of your component parts. You naturally flow, yet can move against the pull of gravity when effort is applied. You are resistant to pressure, yet accepting of influence.

Gasses are the free spirits of the chemical world; their particles enjoy total freedom at the expense of identity. The atoms and molecules in a gas will expand to fill its container as they bounce around with no thought to each other. If you are gas, you push against the constraints of your environment, constantly looking for a way out. The application of pressure simply intensifies this effect. You are free, open to anything, yet may not have a developed sense of self, as your component parts do not blend.

States of matter can be changed. Apply enough heat to a solid and it softens, liquifies. Apply too much perhaps, and you lose your substance as it evaporates. On the other hand, compress freely moving molecules hard enough, and you transition them to a liquid and eventually a solid.

In my own life, I strive to be a liquid. I want to be unified and have a definable self, yet I want to be open to influence. I desire to be able to relax and go with the flow, yet also be able to move against the current at will. The pressures I have faced have forced internal cohesion and the warmth from those around me has kept me soft and pliable. I try to monitor the dials and switches on my internal chemistry set to maintain this optimal balance despite the impact of the environment.

Anger is a Succubus

Posted on May 16, 2012May 16, 2012 by stilllearning2b

Anger. It is so easy to go there. To stay there.

Why did he do this to me? How could he have done these things? What a (fill in the blank with your favorite expletive)!

That anger is a succubus; she’ll draw you in, tempting you, and then slowly suck you dry, leaving you brittle while the object of the anger remains untouched. Anger leaves you in a victim state, powerless. It is only by releasing this anger that you can take your own reigns from the soul-sucking creature and chart your path.

Take yourself out of the object in the sentences above and make yourself the subject. What can I do to make my life better? What can I do now that these things have happened. Okay, so maybe the expletives can still stand. They certainly have their place, after all:) That shifts the power back to you.

Not that it is easy. I still slide back into anger when I have to deal with the financial fallout of my ex-husband’s years of manipulations and deceptions. Try staying calm when you are faced with paying the bill for the wedding rings used to marry another while you are still betrothed. Any luck? Yeah, me neither.

The anger has been the hardest to let go of, even more than sadness. However, I refuse to let that succubus feed off me any longer.

In future posts, I will share some of my strategies for moving beyond anger. What has helped you? Are you still angry?

Sometimes It’s About What You Can Reach

Posted on May 14, 2012 by stilllearning2b

I was engaged in my usual Sunday cook-a-thon last week when I faced a small dilema. I wanted the smoked paprika (fancy, I know) for the recipe, but it was out of reach. I keep this particular item on the top shelf of the spice cabinet due to its infrequent use. Normally, I simply climb up on the counter below to reach the items on the top shelf. At this particular time; however, my very full and very hot slow cooker was occupying the exact counter real estate where I would need to place my knees.

At first, I became frustrated. I felt like the recipe wouldn’t be perfect without the addition of the smoked paprika. Then, I glanced up, spying the perfectly normal and perfectly accessible paprika right in front of me. It would do just fine.

Some days and some situations are not about trying to achieve perfection. When you’re in a rough patch, trying to maintain a high standard can be daunting and add unneeded stress. It is okay to redefine your goals and adjust accordingly. Sometimes, it’s all about what you can reach.

And, for the record, no I did not think about pulling a chair over to reach the paprika. There is probably a lesson in that too…

The Day the Marriage Died

Posted on April 17, 2012February 25, 2018 by stilllearning2b

Up until now, everything I have posted has been recently written, almost 3 years since the end of my marriage. I recently went back and visited some of my earlier writings, drafted in the weeks and months after he left. I’ve decided to share some of that, to expose the raw underbelly of divorce. Please be aware that this writing has a different tone. The emotions and language are harsh as they capture my reaction on the day the marriage died.

Wellness is not measured by the amount of broccoli you eat or the number of miles you can run. It is not found in the number of punches on your yoga membership card or the double digits of your sit-up count. Wellness is not indicated by the reading of the blood pressure cuff or the size indicated on the label of your jeans.

I used to think I was well; I had all of the above mastered. My lean, muscled body spoke of the intense workouts it was subjected to along with the strict vegetarian diet that was used to fuel the exercise sessions. I awoke before dawn to ensure that I could fit a workout into my hectic schedule as a middle school teacher. I fit long runs in on open evenings or on the weekends. I watched everything I ate, avoiding meat and keeping a careful eye on the amount of fat consumed. My favorite way to spend the weekends was working in my extensive garden or going on long hikes in the nearby North Georgia mountains.

I used to think I was well. But, I wasn’t. All it took to strip away all of physical manifestations of health was a few short sentences. A text, sent across the country on a sunny Saturday afternoon, arriving unexpectedly on my phone.

July 11, 2009 12:38 p.m.

I’m sorry to be such a coward leaving you this way. I am leaving. Please reach out to someone let the dogs out as I am leaving the state. The code for the garage is 5914. I’m truly sorry but I can’t do this anymore. Please give me some time to come to terms with my decision. I will call you in a few days. I am sorry that I have failed you.

Lesson One

When two become ones, you are able to see yourself clearly.

Fear gripped. Legs collapsed. Brain stuttered. Lungs heaved. Gut clenched. Body trembled. World shattered. Visceral. Violent.

My father’s arms engulfed me as I lay shaking on the floor, my body and brain rebelling from my new reality.

“What can I do for you? Do you want me to call mom?” my dad offered, seeking for a way to comfort his only child.

“Yes, please,” I responded, forcing the words out through my locked lungs.

He reluctantly left me in a heap on the hallway floor in my aunt and uncle’s house as he moved to the dining room to make the call to my mother in Texas, whom he had divorced decades earlier.

My brain barely registered his soft, yet strained voice in conversation several feet away from me. My hands gripped my phone with urgency, willing it to send another message. Wanting this to be a mistake. A joke. Anything but real. A little anger pushed through the initial shock, enough for me to summon the courage to flip open the phone, using muscle memory trained over years to scroll down twelve names to Mr. T, the nickname he used to put himself in the phone he bought for me years before.

“Hello. You’ve reached T of MMS. I cannot come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

I took a deep breath and left a message, almost unintelligible through my tears, my shaking, and my heaving chest.

“T. I don’t understand. What is this? A text message? Sixteen years and a text message? Please don’t do this. Not like this. Call me. Please.”

I closed the phone, severing the connection.

It sat there silent. Taunting me. I opened it again, this time to send a text message.

What about the dogs? Are the dogs okay? Call me.

It remained silent, the screen dark.

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Over with a Capital O (but apparently Geico didn’t get the message)

Posted on April 12, 2012 by stilllearning2b

I’ve never fallen in love at first sight, but I sure fell out of love at first sight of the text message my husband of 16 years sent me three years ago.

“I am sorry to be such a coward leaving you this way, but I am leaving you and leaving the state.”

Until that moment, I would have gladly taken a bullet for for him. After that moment, I wanted to be the one to discharge said bullet. I never could have imagined that my feelings for him could change so dramatically. So quickly. So completely. I went from missing him and wanting to snuggle up next to him to being repulsed by the very idea of him. I wanted him purged from my very existence, wiped clean from my slate.

I’ve learned that is not an easy thing to do.

When I got the mail today (why is it that the mail always seems to hide such ugly surprises for me?), I found a piece of junk from Geico addressed to my ex. Now, let me explain how strange this is. I have moved four times in the last three years. I changed my last name at the time of the divorce two years ago. And…my ex and I never had any insurance through Geico (I started using them AFTER the divorce). How and why did they connect our names and why are they assuming he lives with me? (Maybe I should check the closets just in case.)

It doesn’t matter how much I want him to disappear, apparently echoes of him will continue to sound through my life. At least now, those echoes are muffled, causing no discomfort only a mild curiosity and annoyance. It was Over three years ago; these sounds are just the noise of a dead relationship. Apparently Geico didn’t get that memo.

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