Monday, August 1, 2011

A Step Forward

It’s been awhile since I’ve written. Too long. I’m not sure how I let so much time pass by. All I can say is, sometimes you just need a break, even when you don’t know it. I spend so much time thinking about what’s happening with my family that sometimes I’m too tired to write about it.

I did come back to a lot of emails from all of you. Really wonderful, encouraging emails. There are clearly a lot of you out there who are struggling with the same things. In fact, some of the emails were from those whose parents JUST announced their divorce. I remember that feeling of pain. The urge to Google “divorce” and “adult children of divorce” over and over again until you stop feeling like you’re the only one with a weird, messed up family (trust me, you’re not).

These emails were so captivating, heartfelt and honest that I knew I had to return to this blog. It’s not because I have a ton of wisdom to share (far from it, sometimes!) It’s because I’m going through a similar journey. And I think we all have something to give one another.

An update on me: have been spending time with my parents and I have to say, it’s been good. Never would’ve thought that would be the case six months ago. Of course, things are still fresh and painful and there’s a whole minefield of dangerous topics to avoid, but it’s a step. And that’s all we can really ask of ourselves, isn’t it? Take one small step forward.

I wish I could say the sadness goes away. Unfortunately I’d be lying. It doesn’t. It’s perpetually there, deep in your soul and certain moments will set you off on a wave of sadness. It’s to be expected. Let’s face it: divorce is everywhere. I’m constantly being reminded of my parents’ divorce. Even at CVS, of all places (I know, random). I was picking up a prescription and two pharmacists were having a conversation. From what I overheard, they were talking about the one pharmacists’ parents.

“They’re getting divorced?” The older pharmacist asked. “No way!”

“Yes and I’m 22 years old,” the other responded. She then proceeded to take a deep breath and say, “I can’t even talk about it. It’s just too painful.”

She summed it up quite nicely. It really is that painful. And yet I felt a connection with her, even in her moment of pain. Here we are, two strangers, going through a traumatic situation. I wanted to reach out to her and let her know that I understood, if I didn’t think she’d look at me like a lunatic (and it’s the only CVS near our apartment, so I can’t have them thinking I’m crazy).

But inside, I felt for her. And for me. And for all of you out there struggling with this lifechanging situation.

So that’s why I keep writing. Yes, it’s therapeutic. Yes, I suppose I do have some advice to give to those who are in the place I was six months-year ago. But more than anything, I write so I can connect.

 I write so I don’t feel alone.

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