Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Chapter 1: Renaissance

This blogs main purpose, so far, is to help reinvent my life, get out thoughts, monitor any progress in life, express feelings, attempt to love life again, and to just freaking dig myself out of the crap hole I’m in. By no means am I a writer or a punctuator, many spelling errors to come. I have caveman like skills when it comes to writing.  

My life, at the moment, is rather dramatic and, in my opinion, tragic. I feel as if karma is reining down on me for every bug I've killed, bad word I've uttered, cow I've consumed, and red light I've violated. I still can't believe that this is all happening to me, maybe reality still hasn't sunken in yet, actually i'm pretty sure it hasn’t.

So here is the readers digest version of my current life predicament. It’s too painful to bring up the whole story so here it is in one breath.  Meet the man of my dreams on a damn island (how crazy awesome is that!). He was funny, kind, sensitive, manly, rugged, T.D.H (tall, dark, and handsome), considerate, loving, athletic, adventurous, playful, kept up with me, and about a million other things equaling everything I could ever want… and to top it off he was totally in love with me, go figure. We always joked that we were the male and female versions of each other. Anyways we fell madly in love and got married. Then everything slowly started falling apart I guess, well its more like life happened, stress presented its ugly face at the get go. Then 6 months down the road my husband decided, out of the blue, he didn’t want to be married anymore and wanted a divorce and wanted it the next day. He kept saying he was “white fanging me” (a phrase I taught him from the show New Girl) which means when you love something and you know what’s best for it you send/push/yell/force it away- stupid analogy why did I teach it to him? Anyways we ended up living together for 3 months having a gay ol’ time but it was different. He didn’t say he loved me anymore and held my hand once during that time. Then one day he told me, again, that he had fallen out of love and a bunch of other excuses, that don’t merit a divorce, and I moved back to my parents. More drama has happened since then. And it’s been a few months since our split and I still haven’t received any divorce papers. To go from one day “I love you” to the next day “I want a divorce” literally blew the knee caps right off my legs and left me utterly confused at how someone could just close off, stop feeling, and treat someone they loved so much like a bag of trash. There you go the end… for now

I like this quote from the movie Rocky (even though I've never seen a rocky movie in my life): 

“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now, if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain’t you. You’re better than that!”

So what Rocky is telling me is that no matter what I do life is going to punch me in the crotch and I have one of two options… 1) fall on the floor and be a coward or 2) pick myself up and continue hobbling down the road. The funny thing is that I know what option I would choose. It’s obvious that option two is the way to go, then why do I continually choose number one? Why do I choose to stay where i've fallen and be in pain and misery? Maybe strangely inside I choose to stay where i've fallen because if I pick myself up and try to walk again it will be as if nothing happened, as if it didn’t matter, and didn’t hurt. From what I can tell my husband (x –husband?) isn’t exhibiting any feelings of hurt or sadness so does that mean subconsciously that I have to pick up the slack? Am I suppose to feel all the pain, sorrow, and depression because he won’t? And if I feel any happiness is realities job to step in and say I’m not suppose to be happy? Our subconscious is weird; well at least mine is seriously messed up.

The reason why I titled my blog “Quintessence” is because I use to feel like I had the quintessence of life down pat. I knew that if I worked hard I could play hard and that was a perfect balance in life and my personal motto. I have to find my quintessence again and that is why I named this post “renaissance” because renaissance means rebirth, a new beginning, and willing or not willing, that is what I have to do… start all over and rebirth myself through the vaginal canal of life. So. Here. I. Come. World



\\// Status Report 1-15-14: technically still married, mildly depressed but still functioning, currently employed, breathing, alive, and writing a blog.

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