The awakening

pink_rose_by_photoguy777Photo credit: photoguy777.deviantart.com/art/Pink-Rose

A few days ago I was looking for some paperwork I had carelessly tossed somewhere at some point probably as much as two years ago, and in that process I opened the upper left hand drawer of my desk. Inside that drawer is a desperate and depraved accounting of the first few months of my life after discovery day. In that drawer were stacks of pamphlets and handouts given to us by numerous therapists on the subject of sex addiction. Also in that drawer are note pads chronicling my agony, love notes and cards from Blue Eyes proclaiming his undying love for me post discovery, my own scribbled notes about the other woman and lists and lists of dates they were together, places they traveled to together. The pages are crinkly with dried tears. There is a two page typed letter to Blue Eyes explaining to him that I cannot heal with him, that I don’t believe I will be able to live with a recovering sex addict. I wrote that it was just too painful.

And, handwritten, no date, there was this…

The Awakening

Was I aware when I freed my eyes from the heavy blanket of my lids,
or at a point preceding it, a dark, blank empty space filling my conscious mind.
Did I roll away from him, or towards him at this point, this moment when the world
meant nothing, time did not exist, I floated in a space free of pain, for a split second.

At the juncture between past and present, when I fully realized things were changed, and they could never be the same, why was fear the foremost emotion exhibited?

At the moment of impact all those months ago, I doubled over in pain, the pain of betrayal, of realizing the one person I knew in the deepest recesses of my heart, I knew, I knew he would never hurt me… when I realized he had done the unthinkable, a part of my soul died, but there was no space allowed for fear, only wracking sobs and tortured images, blood dripping from self inflicted wounds, if only I could release the poison.

Fear would come. At the moment of awakening, I collapsed in agony from a deep dread that overwhelmed me.

Was my terror based on the not knowing what my future held.
Was the mounting agony crippling the very foundation of my soul in fact spurned by the knowledge that I had given something over to someone who didn’t deserve it, and that was my complete and utter failure. I had given my trust to a master of deception, a broken down little boy who had never walked upright in the conscience of a man, but I wholly blamed myself. Was my fear that I had married a boy who would never grow.

Was I indeed mired in thoughts of not being able to live without this boy, the boy that I had fashioned a man for so many years. Was I betrayed by my own mind.
As the days in my new existence mounted, I started drowning in the reality that I had no more expectations. I was unable to reconcile the past with the present. I was living a lie inside myself. I desperately wanted to continue to share my world with that man, the man who did not exist.

Time has begun to heal the wounds, but I will never be the same.

I have awakened to the fact that things will never be the same, I can never go back, but I can go forward.

As I read my own writing, I realized, my heart is broken. I will never fully heal from that broken heart. I move forward knowing that a broken heart does not a broken spirit make. I have a strong soul and it is heaped in goodness, love, honesty and a burning desire to be kind to myself and others. I am free of the fear I once held so tenuously close to my sanity. I don’t fear for my future, I embrace it.

This post is dedicated to all my blogger friends. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. ❤

13 thoughts on “The awakening

  1. Just beautiful Kat. I could really feel the emotions as I read this. What a journey and what moving insights you have managed to produce. You are quite the wordsmith Kat. Xxxx

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    • Thanks, CF. Some how, in some little way, getting it all out of me really does help. Sometimes when I read back through what I have written, I don’t recognize myself nor even remember writing some of it. ❤

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    • Thank you beautiful lady. All of this pain was not bestowed upon me because I am a bad person, I realize life doesn’t work that way. But, it sure feels unfair on so many days. I know you know the feeling. There are worse things that could have happened, and I am grateful for what I have. True healing has surely commenced. ❤

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Such perfect words. A broken heart never fully heals to the form it once held. It is scarred, battered and bruised. But can function pretty well. Not the same. But different. And your spirit can never be broken, Kat. You’re a survivor. A giver. A lover. A carer. And there are more people in the world to heap your gifts on than just BE. Of course, as long as he continues the work he currently puts in on himself, sharing your love may well be a big part of the rest of your life journey. And I genuinely feel positive about that. But what I love most is your acceptance and self care, and the recognition that if you do ever have to walk away that you can and will, and life’s rich pageantry will continue. Inspirational. Thank you :-).

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  3. Beautiful. You give me hope for my own future. Thank you : )
    I haven’t created any physical records of my steps in the journey yet, and this is a reminder that I should. As with music and movies, it’s likely that media will change, and I may not always have WordPress to go back to to see how far I’ve come.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I rarely go back and read what I have written, but when I do, I am shocked at the early trauma. It does give me some solace, however, to see the progression of my healing. We must be able to heal ourselves on this journey, but it is a long and painful process.

      Liked by 2 people

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