well, hell.

WORST. BLOGGER. EVER.

Okay, so now that's out of the way. Ya'll, a LOT of shit has gone down since the last time I wrote, so I'll just try to condense it.

Basically? I'm going through a divorce. Those who know me well know that my marriage was far from perfect. Especially in the last couple years. I tried my best to make things work. Or did I? Honestly, half the time, I felt like it didn't matter how hard I tried...nothing was going to save that sinking ship. And I stayed much longer than I should. But everyone has their breaking point. Mine just took a long time to reach.

So, I left. And I'm telling you, it was the hardest, scariest decision I've ever made. Being a child of divorce made me very, very hesitant to put my own child through it. But, you know, I decided that even though it was going to be a difficult, painful, and decidedly rough road...Reece deserved more. Damnit, I deserved more. And frankly, Tony deserved more. He wasn't happy. Neither was I.

I won't get into the sordid details, but it's been about 6 weeks since I left and moved in with my dad and stepmom. The first week? Hellish. I ended up in the hospital the first night I was back because I was having such a severe anxiety attack. My blood pressure was 201/140. They thought I might have a stroke. I felt cold. Empty. It was like mourning a death, and I guess in a way? It was. The death of a relationship, and the end of a 5 1/2 year relationship. Good or bad, it was a large chunk of my life that I can never get back.

I was weak. But every day, I felt a little bit better. Tony had Reece for the first week we were separated, and it was the first time EVER that I had been away from my son for more than 2 days. I felt like my heart was being ripped out. But really, I think having that first week to myself helped. I was able to grieve, to cry, to really start getting over things. My family rallied around me. My friends, God bless them, were so happy to have me back home. They told me they were proud of me, for making the right decision for myself and for Reece. And after a little while, I started feeling proud of myself, too.

I have come a LONG way in 6 weeks. I still have rough patches. And things with Tony aren't always easy and peaceful. I think he's having a really hard time with the reality of the situation right now, while I had the really hard time at the beginning. But I know in the long run, we'll both be much happier people. I do know I will be.

In the last week, I met someone. I know it's soon. But it feels right, and I'm not fighting it. He's not a rebound. He's not just someone to make me feel less lonely. He's helping me heal, but that's not why I adore him. I'm sure there will be many posts about him to come. And more posts about everything else that's going on. But this post is about the loss of an old life, and the start of a new one.

And damn, I'm hopeful. I haven't felt that way in a very, very long time.