Personal Piece: Broken is Beautiful!

I recently read a post from The Bloggess about being broken and finding beauty in that brokenness. I found a few things around the house that are broken in someway shape or form and wanted to share them with you. The Bloggess inspired me to look at the broken. For instance, my roof has a section of sagging shingles and worn out dormers. I have a appointment to fix it, but in the mean time I give you Busted Shingles!

Also, I am not the most garden, or green thumb savvy. I have let my flower beds turn into mini jungles. I am perfectly comfortable with that, but selling a house means making things look pretty. There is also the derelict lilac tree.

The poor thing needs help. Yet, there is something beautiful about the empty branches holding sway over that side of the yard.

I am broken, but i am still me.

This is a year of big changed for me. I feel broken. There is an internal hurt some days, other days I am joyous and happy. When asked, I say that I am at 80 to 85% happy. It snot bad, but it makes a weird roller-coaster of emotions.

As a writer I thrive on words, beautiful language to describe things, elucidate my responses to the world, and spark thoughtful considerations. But lately it has been harder to put into words what I am feeling. This is my first attempt to put down my thoughts into something coherent.

The missing piece.

Dear Readers,

I am broken.

I am hurt.

I do not like to share this with many people, but share I do share with those in my inner sanctum sanctorum.

There are pieces of me on my floor. Crystalline shards, glinting in the sunshine, and in the lightening speckled sky. I reach to pick up a piece and  cut myself. I bleed. Blood flowing in rivulets across my feet, floor, tears spilling out and watering down the viscous fluid, pulsing out with each heartbeat.

Maybe, this is what I am. Maybe this is what I'll be. A Phoenix rising from the ashes after the pain has left.

I can still walk, Mom!

I am not depressed, in the clinical sense, but I think I have developed a temporary case of it. Is that even possible. Some days I cannot focus very well and I want to bury myself in my blankets. There is a strong desire to stay in bed and not interact with the world. I don't want to tell others about this (maybe it is shame, a stigma with mental health issues, or maybe I just want to cocoon myself and heal.) Its nothing to be ashamed of, I think. I still go out, hang with friends, make plans, do theatre, I just need time and days when its just me and the cats. Everyone is different. And everyone's mileage is different. And then the days start not hurting so much.

This week I discovered a few things, first, hurting is natural and something that one has to do to heal. Means sometimes you cry, or sometimes you go and play putt putt. Second, the things we fear will not necessarily happen as we think it will. This is the result of the Fraud Police fault (called that by AFP fans), also known as the What-ifs, Inner Demons, etc. When they start talking I should never listen. Its very hard some days. They are very persuasive, but I am learning that what they say is never the truth. My heart, gut, and cockles say so. Third, I should learn to live my life for me. Be my own person.

There's more than that, but that is the core of the thoughts running gambit in my head as I write this.

I know many of you, Dear Readers, may actually be confused about why I am writing this post and what I am feeling. I will explain. Last year my husband (now ex) and I mutually decided to separate. We had become distant as lovers, yet were still friends. Then in February of 2016 we filed for and became divorced in March 2016. It was and is completely amicable and much relief to the both of us. Throughout the process we talked, discovered that we were in different places. It didn't hurt as much as I thought.  I already knew we weren't going to last, but I wasn't ready to admit it. We both agreed that we were better friends than lovers. We discussed the future, the selling the house, finding separate places to live, and starting over. This means that changes are still happening at the time of this blog. This means that I have to learn to be single. This is why I am broken. I am not used to being single and living separately. We were together almost 17 years. Its hard. But, I am learning to find me again, to be happy.

Broken Clock stuck in Time.

In this journey you will find so much...I keep finding pieces of me that I had forgotten.

Sometimes I am sad.

Sometimes I am happy.

I am broken.

But, I am beautiful.

I will not always be broken, or maybe I will, but I will learn to love the broken pieces and the beautiful pieces.

The pain alone is worth the fire because becoming a Phoenix after the Fire is beautiful, even when I hurt.

For now, I live one day at a tie. David is my friend, actually a best friend (and now ex-husband). He has his life and I have mine. Learning to separate him and me, this is really hard, but its the path I am on. I won't always feel like this and I am learning. Getting better each day! And after all the introspection of the last 6/7 months (and more to come no doubt), I realized this is the where I am supposed to be. A few small things, "Pain is Weakness leaving the Body", "Love and compatibility are not the same thing," "Catastrophe is merely a course correction.", and "Your gut is stronger and more correct  than anything (except maybe the cockles)". That last was all me, BTW, Dear Readers. :-)