Finding Myself

I just recently got out of a really bad marriage, and during that journey I realized I had lost myself. I know that sounds kind of cliche, but it was so true. That is actually what helped me to get out of the horrible situation I was in. It took one simple question to really open my eyes, and make me say I can’t do this anymore. I was at work, and someone asked me what my favorite song was. That was the simple question that pushed me into finally escaping my prison. I thought long and hard about that question, but I could not figure out an answer. The reason I did not have an answer was, because I was gone. I did not know what I even liked any more. My ex-wife had sucked every bit of who I was away from me. Her verbal abuse and masterminded manipulation had taught me to shut down. I had become a shell of a human being, and I lived for many years in what I consider auto pilot.

I took the last three years of my marriage constantly thinking in my own head about how I was going to get out. I would think of the different ways, and I would then think of the different reactions I would get from her. She was not a mentally stable person, and would often choose violence as a way to control a situation. There had been many threats made in the past of things like “the only way you will leave me is in a body bag”. These reasons made it so hard for me to leave, because I just did not know how crazy my life was going to be at the end. In my head each day I was building myself up and learning what mistakes I had made in the past. I would think to myself all the time once I get out of here, I will never make these mistakes again. In the past I had dated many women who had a lot of the same bad traits, and just never learned my lessons. Well this time I really learned my lesson, because I had never been so miserable in my life. It had gotten to the point that I was so lost, that it barely mattered if I lived any more.

Only a few people who were very close to me got to know my true feelings. I would sneak a conversation in with them here and there. After I finally got out of my marriage everyone around me would bring up how sad I looked all the time before. I thought just a few people close to me knew, but looking at it now I think everyone knew. It was one of my good friends who sent me a message that said “we should write a story together”. Simple enough request I thought, but I had very little time to myself. I was always busy taking care of my ex and all of her people’s needs. One night I decided to sacrifice sleep to try and write this story that my friend had suggested. We had talked, and had no clear path or idea of what we were going to write about. All I got from her was I don’t care what it’s about, but you have to start it. I pulled out my laptop, and I just started writing. I wrote a few pages of a story about a serial killer. When I was done I messaged my friend, and said go check out the story in google docs I started it and now it’s your turn. She jumped on, and it was not long before she wrote me. She said “wow that was really good, and now I feel inadequate to write in the story”. I assured her that she was an excellent writer, and that she must write so that we could continue off of each other’s ideas.

Time went on where there was very little writing that happened, but a flame had been sparked. Before I was in my bad relationship, I used to write often. I would sit by myself, and write for hours. When my friend got me to start writing it reignited that passion for me. Sitting down and writing a story is so much more for me than just writing. I realized it was like serious therapy for me. I am a person who often times does not vocalize how I am feeling, because I do not like conflict. I tend to be a people pleaser, and to always be worried about what others are feeling. Writing gives me an escape from that. When I write feelings I did not even know how to think about come to the surface. I sit down and my emotions and passions go out onto the paper. I do not ever care if the writing is going to turn out good or bad, I just write. There is no stress; there is no fear, and it just all flows out. I do however get nervous to let people read my writing, because to me it is like sitting naked in a room. Exposing my feelings, and watching as someone reads every intimate detail of my mind. They are reading a character that is saying or feeling just how I have been. I am not sure I can think of any way I could be more vulnerable.

Now that I am living on my own and living my life for me, I often sit down and write. I write a story that the character may be doing nothing that I would ever even want to do, but we are still connected. That character is still feeling my emotions, and may have the ability to push away the bad traits I have. They may speak their mind, be fearless, and live life to please no one. Even if the character I create is not a good person, I will still often admire them for who they are. I will admire the strengths that they have, the same ones that I lack. With each new story or new character I find myself growing stronger each day. I am no longer that shell of a human being that I once was. I am becoming the person I was born to be, and I am so thankful that I have the ability to write in order to help me through this process.

Some people have hobbies just to pass the time, and to prevent from getting bored. I am blessed that I have a hobby that offers me that, and so much more. Writing gives me the ability to work through any issues that I have in life. It gives me a voice to yell out to the world, and tell them all how I am feeling. Every time I write it chips away at that hard exterior I have built to keep me safe. It writes down the courage that I am growing within myself. I sit down, and just get lost for hours in my thoughts and stories. To me there is no better therapy than letting my inner self work its way towards peace. Without writing I do not know where I would be today, but I do know it would not be in a good place. Writing is my hobby, my peace, and my lifesaver. I hope that everyone can find that one thing that makes them feel at one with themselves like I have found. I realize now that my ex-wife is only partially to blame for how miserable I had become. I was at fault for allowing myself to be treated in that way, and for allowing myself to shut down. If from the beginning I would have set boundaries and standards for how I should be treated then it would have never gotten so bad. I am sure we would have never even stayed together, because her personality would have never allowed for someone to be that opinionated. At the end of the day I am finding so many reasons to respect myself, and to learn to love who I am as a person again. All of which I owe to the therapeutic work I am able to do through writing.