Today was the day of the dissolution hearing, so of course I’m experiencing a mix of emotions. The marriage is over, as it should be, and as it perhaps should have been years ago. And yet, understandably, I feel the grief overwhelming me. The little stabs as the magistrate called my ex Ms. followed by her maiden name. Hearing her voice, which feels like hearing a ghost. The message she sent after wishing me the best, thatI find happiness in life. Little stabs. Little twists.

It’s a tough day, but I know it’s a turning point. I don’t feel well, I don’t feel balanced, I don’t feel happy. I outright resent when people tell me “Awesome, you’re free!” or otherwise act like this should be a day of celebration. I know they mean well, and I know they understand the relief of moving passed this date, but it’s not something to be celebrated. I’m not sure why people do that, why they have divorce parties, etc. It all feels forced, like we’re so set on moving past things instead of processing them, that these shallow idiots have to throw a party for one of the most painful experiences that can occur in life. Oh well.

So many mixed emotions. An ongoing need to “fix” the unfixable. To heal what can only become a gnarled scar at best. To control the uncontrollable. Things will happen, bad things, and we have no control over them as much as we trick ourselves. We are animals of earth, and everything we’ve come to understand about society, is simple a creation of our own making. We can trick ourselves into thinking we have control, that we can force things through the power of will, but we’re no match. We are animals, frail bones and soft flesh. The earth and all things in it, whether other humans, forces of nature, or our very brains, are going to hurt us deeply, and we’ll have no choice but to survive the onslaught. To heal, as best as we can, to learn the lessons we never asked to be taught.

This is post trauma. This is where I’m supposed to grow and learn from my wounds. This is where I get stronger, so they say. Perhaps it’s true, and I feel it in some ways, though I’m not sure if I’d call it strength. Resilience is perhaps the better term, but in a broad spectrum. Yes, I have knowledge that I can withstand tremendous pain and loss, but also resilience to situations that may cause pain. And that sounds more like fear, something I’m very familiar with. When will these wounds heal, and will they do so in time. In time for the inevitable pain I’ll feel again one day. In time for me to feel content once again, or some semblance of contentment, before I grow old. To feel love and comfort from another.

Resilience. Resist. Close up. Grow.┬áIn any case, here I go into the great unknown. I’ve done it before, though not like this, and not with so many wounds. This blood trail in my wake is still so very fresh.

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