Sometimes I write about some of the things going on in my life. Most of the time what I do reveal barely scratches the surface.
I was cursed with an “interesting” life, both in the dictionary definition and in the MN definition of the word. No rest for the weary or the wicked and karma is taking the long way round to greet me.
I’m not sure I even know how to live without drama anymore, if I ever really did. I’m not sure I am capable of making healthy choices if any ever do present themselves. Not to say I don’t take care of myself and try to steer myself to circumstances that will benefit, however that penchant for self destruction always seems to be a breath away. Waiting to tempt me down a path that will lead only to ruin. Enticing justifications for why I should make poor choices. Excuses…nothing but fancied up excuses, every single one.
When I filed for divorce I thought maybe I would finally be able to break free of a relationship that was complex but oh so destructive. I was tired of the cycle and tired of the knowledge that love isn’t all you need. Tired of giving what little I had and leaving myself overly depleted. I ended my marriage but nothing changed. The situation was not typical, my heart wouldn’t harden enough to protect me. I was still trapped and wanting nothing more than to run and run and run until every familiar thing had been left behind.
Many months later I still want to run. I want to run from the emotional drain of my house and the people in it. I want to start over and never look back. I don’t know what’s stopping me. Is it love, is it guilt, is it an addiction to drama, financial restrictions or is it just that I am too broken?
I stand at a crossroad right now. Behind me is the man I survived the last 8 years of life with. A man who (at least thinks he) loves me with all his heart. A man who has a very rough road ahead of him and a plethora of mental and physical health issues he needs to deal with on top of a mounting pile of financial messiness. The epitome of a “hot mess” with warning signs plastered all across him, but he is family to me and loved as unconditionally as I do my mother and brother.
Ahead of me are three paths. All of them will move me forward, away from my past and all will present their own challenges and adventures. I know which path I should walk. My logical brain has done all the calculations and mapped out the options. Yet, I find myself wanting to explore the paths less trodden. The messy paths that make me feel happy even though they make no sense. The further I explore them the farther away from my crossroad I get and the less likely I will be to choose a path that makes “sense” to my brain, not to mention everyone else in my life.
My brain screams at my heart and tells it to think about what it’s doing. My heart ignores it all. My heart wants to dive into the deep end of broken humanity and swim there indefinitely. Immersed in a tangle of damaged psyches that feel safe in a way other types of security never will. My own special version of broken.