Pieces of the Past

I'm moving.  Going through the boxes in the garage and finding old pictures sets off sadness.  Sadness at thirty years of my life....wasted.  I am finding old overdraft notices from bank accounts when my then-husband was in Las Vegas -- "alone".  Who overdraws by over $4,000 per month?  At that, he was asking me to send him money as well.  My mind goes to so many places but at the end of the day, I will have to make peace with it all.  It was only the start of a very bad ending to a very bad marriage.

So how does one grasp this sort of information?  How do I wrap my mind around the fact that I allowed myself to be manipulated so easily.  It is terrifying!

I have nightmares about my marriage.  I have shared them with my counselor who says that I am having anxiety about moving.  That would be an understatement.  The other night, I looked at the lease, picked up all my clothes and left the house.  My counselor says that control is my trigger.  It is, what sets me off.  A lease, however, does not constitute control.  At the end of the day, the lease was rewritten and the move continues.

I didn't anticipate feeling like this by going through my possessions.  They are, after all, just things.  I look at pictures of myself and say, "Why?  Why on earth did you think you were fat, ugly and had a big nose?"  I was, in fact, very pretty.  It makes me sad that I spent years never seeing it.

I adore my kids.  However, I miss them terribly.  I find myself wondering my motivation for moving?  Am I missing something in my life?  I'm not sure.  I share my fears and doubts with my therapist.  He sees nothing wrong.  I'm normal given the trauma I've been through.

And so, there it is.  I'm normal but when I look at photos, I not only see the people but all the memories of that time.  I also wonder...what WAS I thinking?  Was I thinking?  I look at a Mother's Day photo.  I am smiling with my husband.  Yet I know the truth.  I bought my own gifts.  Six months pregnant and buying my own Mother's Day gifts.  It was not a happy Mother's Day.  It was, like so many other holidays, one of false smiles and hopes for happiness at some point down the road.

As I read my blog to my fiancé,  he reminds me of the joy my children brought me; that I need to be grateful.  He reassures me that I am magnificently gorgeous and that I have made a decision to spend the rest of my life with someone who loves and absolutely adores me. 

He is right.  My journey is really just beginning.  I tend to believe those pieces of the past can be used to make a cobblestone path toward a beautiful future; one filled with hope, healing and a brighter tomorrow!