the divorce diet

2016
It was a dark year.

When I should have been enjoying my newborn and 2 year old, I was suffering from depression, anxiety and all-around misery.

I got a divorce. 
At 28.

Some know. Some don't.
At this point, to me, it's old news. I feel like I've aged 10 years in the last 5 months, while others still seemed shocked by the news daily. That's where the theory of relativity comes into play, I guess.

I get it, though. Divorce is not exactly a happy word in the English language.

With it comes a series of standard questions:
"Why?"
"Is there someone else?"
"What about the kids?"

And then there are the statements.
"I never saw it coming!"
"But you seemed so happy!"
"Those poor kids..."

As if divorce should be added to the list of Child Abuse risk factors.

So I'm here to clear a few things up. Mainly because I know I can't continue with this blog until I do, but mostly because I miss writing. Terribly. And I can't just skip this part in my life, move on and pretend like nothing happened. It's kind of a game changer.

Here goes...
Four years ago I was stuck. Terrified because I couldn't have a kid and I thought that made me both worthless and a failure. Really, it just made me like a million other American women who struggled with making babies, but that's a story for a different day. You guys know all about that; you struggled right along with me.
Terror, frustration and infinite guilt; all things that burrowed deep into my soul and still linger to this day.

I thought a baby would make things better. Make me a better wife. Make my husband actually talk. Make my life worthy.

Instead, I was pumped [literally] full of hormones. Poked with needles, sucking blood from my veins like a vampire on steroids. Stifled by a cloak of disappointment.

I'm not a psychologist, but I think this is where it all started.
Me trying to fix my life with a baby is what landed me a divorce some four years later.

Don't mistake my words, I beg you. My children are my world. Without them, I would have very little left to live for.

But I do think this was the nail in the coffin.
The stress; the depression; the sheer desperation...it drove us to the edge and back again.



So here I sit, In a 900 square foot apartment with a cat and two kids.
Wondering what the fuck happened to my life.
You know what happened? Life happened. I changed and so did he.
I was 18 when I met him. 21 when we got married. Both of us babies.
10 years and a shitload of life experience later, we turned out to be much different people.
And we just didn't fit anymore.


Now on to the questions..

What happened? 
I putzed around for 4 years, hoping that things would change. I saw therapists; I read books; I tried making friends for us to hang out with. None of it worked. None of it fit. And I grew tired. I grew tired of being lonely. I grew as a person. As a mother. As a wife.
I grew into someone who would no longer settle for unhappy.

Is there someone else?
Yeah, there is.
It's me.
For once, I'm being selfish. I'm thinking of me. Not my kids. Not my husband. Not my family.
Me.
I'm thinking of the things that make me smile, that make me laugh until I pee [an easy feat after kids, I'll tell ya]. The things that make me feel whole again. If that makes me an asshole, then so be it.

What about the kids?
I love how people ask this as if we did all of this without a SINGLE inclination of how our kids would be affected.
Seriously, guys. You know us better than that.
My kids are my world. And as much as they might drive me nuts sometimes, they are the ONLY thing that have been my constant throughout this disaster of a situation.
So quit asking that shit. My kids are going to be happier this way.


And now on to the statements.

"I never saw it coming!" 
Guess what, genius? Neither did I. I didn't exactly picture this moment on my wedding day. "Oh I can't wait until I can sit in a courtroom full of smelly weirdos and declare to 100 complete strangers that my husband and I are divorcing due to incompatibility!" 
It's basically the American dream.

"But you seemed so happy!"
Yeah, on Facebook, guys.
Facebook is the worst. It's the place to show the good side of your life because no one wants to see the shitty side. It's depressing. And it's no one else's business. So we might seem happy, but that doesn't mean that everything is perfect. Like it or not, everyone has skeletons in their closet. You might think you don't, but you do.

"Those poor kids..."
I know. We're basically serial killers. Our kids will never love anyone EVER AGAIN.
Look, I get it. Holidays are going to suck and won't be normal, but what the Hell is normal anyway? A perfect family with no drama and everyone has a crapload of gifts and no one spills a bunch of spaghetti on their clothes?
Please.
This isn't Pleasantville, folks. My kids are going to be just fine.
You know why? Because we love the shit out of them. As do our families. And friends. And anyone I tell to love them because damnit, they deserve it.
So spare me the guilt trip.


Look, I'd love to spill the gory details but quite frankly...it's no one's GD business. I love you guys, but you don't need to know the good stuff to know that we made this decision consciously and carefully and over a very long period of time. We didn't take it lightly and we are still suffering because of it.
But [and I can't speak for Matt but I think he would agree], we're surviving.
We're getting through for our kids and for ourselves.


My family has been there with me through all of this, even when they really shouldn't have. And for that, I love them. They were filled with heartbreak at losing a son and brother and torn because they knew their daughter and sister was hurting. And somehow they stuck by us both.

And Matt's family has been there for me even when they absolutely shouldn't have. I can't thank them enough for that, because I consider them my family just as much as my own.

At the end of the day, all I can say is that this whole ordeal...well, it fucking sucks.
That's all I can say about it.
I literally have no idea what else to say.
It's been the worst 5 months of my life.

I have been to places so dark I didn't think I could sink any lower.
And guess what?
I fell deeper.

That's just life.
But here I am. Living and breathing and surviving.
And for that, I am grateful.

I am grateful to be me.
And I am grateful for all of you.

So I'm ready to start new. I'm ready to be my own me and live life without guilt and anxiety and doubt.
I hope you'll stick with me. Because I have a feeling it's going to be a great year.