I Thought I Could Imagine

But I was Wrong, Oh So Wrong

“I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.”

~ Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash

I wrote this article a couple of months ago and published it but didn’t send it out to my subscribers. But I’ve realised that knowing we are not alone in how we feel can be so very comforting, so I’m sending it out to you all now in case there is someone who needs to read this today and be reminded that it does get better.

I see you. I hear you. I understand.

I saw that quote posted on Facebook and thought how apt it was for how I felt and still sometimes feel.

I don't relate to it all though.

For instance, I am angry. Probably not as angry as I should be. I find it hard to express anger.

But the pain, yes, I definitely relate to that.

You can imagine the hurt it would cause but until you actually experience it, you have no fucking idea how absolutely dreadful it is!

In the first few days after I found out my whole body hurt.

I've never been beaten up or hit (as an adult) but I imagine that's how you would feel after a good beating.

Each day I would force myself to get up and get showered and dressed, make a cup of tea and light the fire.

Gradually, I was able to add more into my day like a walk in the forest or a drive to the supermarket.

After a while I didn't need to do the forcing anymore, it became routine.

Fortunately, I also had online businesses to run and the tiny sane part of me that was left, knew that I had to keep these going as I was now on my own, completely.

It wasn't just the pain of the betrayal though, it was complete overwhelm as to how to cope and do everything on my own after having been part of a team of two for well over 30 years.

When you are together for that long you each have roles and tasks that you take care of.

It's teamwork and sharing.

However, it does also mean that you don't know how to do everything.

For instance, he was a practical sort of guy so he took care of all things related to our car and all the fixing sort of things in the house. He did the driving and locked the house up every night. It's very scary to just be thrown into having to learn and do all that without warning.

The upside is that once you have done the hard and scary thing once, you know you can do it again. It's only terrifying the first time.

So I learned to take the car to the garage to have the brake pads replaced, learned how to open the bonnet (hood) and after asking a good friend what and where everything was, I can now fill the washer and check the oil, and I know where the battery is!

I learned to use the pressure washer so now my patio front and back look good. And so much more.

Looking back, it’s still hard to admit this, but I did consider not carrying on. Just ending it.

The pain was so great and the thought of living the rest of my life without him so daunting and hollow that for a while I imagined I would be better off dead.

It would stop the pain and the anguish and the empty alone feeling that doesn't go away no matter how many friends and loved ones are there for you.

You'll notice that I'm writing this in the past tense. I don't feel like that anymore.

I kept having flashes of reasons to live.

As if guides and angels were reminding me that I was still needed here on this planet for a while longer.

I saw how sad my girls would be, and how awful my sister would feel thinking she should have done more.

I saw the books I have yet to read and the places I have yet to go.

And finally, my guides showed me that I could help others who are going through the same pain as I am.

I could write down how I survived and what helped and maybe it could help someone else too.

So this is me, trying to live, trying to find myself again, to find my why and my path. Creating a new life that doesn’t look anything like the old one. Finding purpose and meaning and pockets of joy each day.

You, my lovely reader, are not alone. I have survived something I thought would be impossible and you will too. Maybe you already have.

Here are two pieces of advice that I was given in those unimaginably terrible early days, one from a sweet friend and one from my sister.

1. Treat yourself the way you would treat one of your daughters if they were going through the same situation. Eat healthy food, drink plenty of water, get as much sleep as you can and spend time in nature.

2. Take each day as it comes, no, take each hour as it comes. You may feel ok in the morning but then horrible in the afternoon, accept that and know that you will feel better tomorrow, or the next day.

So I took all the advice I was given and tried to eat something good every day and I drank lots of water. I also stopped measuring my days but measured the hours instead. Now I am quite a few months down the line and some days are still hard but not as hard and those days get less and less as the weeks roll by.

As unbelievable as it seems, it does get better.

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How can we tell when we are getting stronger? When do we come to the realisation that, yes, we are going to be ok?

When and how do we go from surviving each day to living each day?

This is what I wrote about in the post below. I talk about my own experiences and offer some guidance and tips on how to go from survival mode to living life mode!

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You don’t have to rebuild alone.

Inside The Rebuild Compass, I share everything that helped me heal, grow, and create a life I love, and you’ll find a community of others walking the same path.

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