Two nights ago I stayed up late trying to find my ex- first husband online, and I also looked for his wife of decades. I’ve been happily out of his life for over thirty-five years. Since he’s eleven years older than me, I wanted to get a look at how he’s holding up. Trying to find him left me feeling weird. I even woke up feeling weird the next day, and it took me the whole day to recover from the weidness emotion I don’t understand.
What is weird? For me, it starts as a suck feeling, and my friends who are into emotions try and help me understand, or at least try to teach me, “to notice” what I feel. Due to my family of origin training, I hammer feelings into a paste I don’t want to eat. Emotions are super confusing, often hurt and I’m better off pretending like I don’t have feelings.
After years of self-examination and sobriety, however, I have learned a few strategies, tools to channel weird confusion and help me cope.
Holding my seventeen year-old cat helps tremendously. He needs me, and I really need to love him. If I press my face up to his face and hold him close, it keeps me out of the refrigerator, and the Dulce de Leche jar, which I could easily eat with a spoon when I feel this way. Then it’ll be diabetes, which I’m surprised I don’t have YET. (Oh, I recognize the emotions, fear and a need for comfort). I tell myself that I am not a wimp for feeling these.
- I write. Pages of angst. Not for public view.
- I pick up the phone, and call trustworthy people, but not to talk about the ex. He’s not even the reason for feeling weird, I realize after sitting still awhile. If I connect with other human beings, I’m not alone with my craziness, and I won’t die from feelings, which seem to be passing….
- Trust my truth. Believe that I’m not a bad person for feeling confusion. I’ve been dealing with this blog lately, to see if I trust the public writing venue. I’m starting to put a face on you, Dear Reader, and I like looking at you. So this blog confessional isn’t as horrifying as I thought it might become. I’m starting to feel better.
If you hate me, I’ll feel something, that won’t be fun, either. But you can trust that I don’t hate you, which is why I write this blog and tell about ancient emotions started by looking for my ex, obsessively looking for him after thirty-five years. I remember from my first look at him long ago, I thought, “What an ass,” and then I denied that definite intuition and went on to endure seven off and on miserable years, and a torturous breakup, with an ass. Honestly, that’s embarrassing. Take it farther. I would be truly surprised if his current wife (if she’s still around) isn’t supporting him. To put it mildly, he hasn’t been ‘ my ‘cup o’ tea’, for ages, so why did I try to find him? Mainly, I think, for curiosity. Aha! This insight brings me RELIEF and GRATITUDE. I got out of that insane marriage before I died. That’s worth something.
- Reflection: My youth was tied up with him, because that ex (number 1 of 3 marriages) was in my life for seven years, when I was in my twenties. Ok, I miss my youth. I still deeply miss the children from his first marriage before me, too, and I lost my connection with them when I left. I still love those children, after all this time. They’re grown-ups, around forty years old now. Loving is a good thing. What I really wanted was to find those kids.
Wow, that took work! I pushed through to the end of the weirdness feeling. I faced discomfort head-on, and I didn’t die. I understand a tiny bit more about myself. I reached gratitude that things aren’t worse. I accept that I lost those children long ago, and likely will never find them. Above all, being grateful is my safest emotion. I’m ready to move on. Thanks for listening.