Time for Me

We are nearly half way through the year and I am only just starting to feel like I’m gaining a little control back. Look where I am, this isn’t my choice, this is not how I saw my life going. But the important thing is I am here. I’m still fighting and I really feel like I am on the start of a journey to true happiness. God that sounds corny! But its true. I’ve got to peel back the layers and address some inner truths but I know I will get there.

For 10 years I have been 1 half of a dynamic duo and I think when you are in a relationship that long you lose a bit of your identity, its impossible not to! Now I have to stand on my own 2 feet and remember the Tash I was before. When I met Tom, I was going to conquer the world, I didn’t have time for men, I was a woman on a mission, I wanted to travel as much as I could as often as I could and try everything and anything. I’m still that person I’m just older, a bit wiser and I have a little person in tow. That makes me more determined, I want to show Zak nothing can stop you and I want to inspire him. We can never be truly happy until we are happy with ourselves.

All that being said sometimes its hard. Really bloody hard.

I thought labour would be the worst pain I experience but heartbreak is next level, its eats you from the inside. What am I supposed to do with the 10 years of memories that seem to be everywhere I turn? I can’t forget the life we used to have, how did we get here? He really loved me, when I think back to our wedding day, he adored me and he would’ve done anything for me. We had a love like you see in the movies (stick with me) the kind where you get a fire in your belly every time you see them, or talk to them. I’m not naïve I know life isn’t like the movies and I promise I don’t look at life through rose tinted glasses but there are a lot of people who go their whole life not experiencing a love like that. He was my one and even through all this pain I’m still wildly attracted to him and seeing him every week at child handover is rough. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t go away and I think I’m learning that a part of it will always be there and I’m gonna have to learn to live with it. Maybe he will always be the one that got away?

Someone described what I’m going through as grief, I’m just grieving for a person who is still alive. It couldn’t be more accurate as it comes in waves. There are weeks where I am flying high and I don’t even think about him. Then it sneaks up and knocks the wind out of me. You name the emotion I’ve felt it. Recently I have developed an unhealthy anger towards other couples I see in the street with young children. The overwhelming urge to scream fuck you at them is just not ok. They have what I thought I was going to have and what I want. It’s not their fault, it’s not my fault but it feels like salt being rubbed in the wound.

I had lunch with my mum recently and she is in my eyes the definition of a hopeless romantic, she believes in true love and is happily married and not to mention she is Toms biggest fan. So hearing her say its time to move on was a tough pill to swallow. It was hard hearing that she had given up the hope too. She’s not wrong and I am moving on but it felt so sad hearing it from her and shit got real.

I’ve found a new groove and I’m in a new routine. Work is going from strength to strength and I’ll be honest I feel like I’m owning my shit. But some days I’d kill for some one to come home too. Its not even about sharing the workload or helping with Zak because I am smashing that. It’s the days when Zak pukes down my back, or we hit a sleep regression and I’m walking round the house at 3am trying to rock him back to sleep, or when it rains, and I have to walk the dog at 7am. Those are the days when I’d really love him to tell me I’m doing great or wipe the puke out of my hair or just make me a cup of tea. Motherhood is bloody hard on anyone single or not there’s no experience like it. Its rewarding and draining all at the same time and I rely heavily on my support network; but its having that one special person in your corner that’s missing.

My counselling has helped me address my PTSD and anxiety. It reminded me of my strength and opened my eyes to some things I was perhaps neglecting about myself. Tom leaving is on him, the shit he is dealing with, not me. It’s not a reflection of me as a wife or a mother, its on him. Turns out though there’s no counselling for a broken heart, just time and patience. Patience is the bit I’m still learning. Sometimes I have it in abundance and feel I can take anything on, other days (like today) my patience wears thinner as the day goes on and the simplest tasks become the hardest. They say time is a great healer and lets face it times go by so quickly, I can’t believe Zak is 8 months already. I think back to the early days of life with a newborn and its just a blurred memory of pumping, feeding, sleeping and loneliness. The loneliness is the killer. That’s what wears my patience down I think, it’s a feeling I don’t like so get fed up with it and impatient.

I’m turning 29 in a couple of weeks and I’m not exactly looking forward to being 29 and a single mum. Of course, Zak is amazing and my whole world but Christ I’m now one of ‘those’ statistics. I’m picking up the pieces and putting myself back together, we have lots to look forward the rest of this year and so far I’ve survived 100% of my worst days so how much harder can it get? I find now I am constantly looking for ways to push my comfort zone and extend my boundaries. I;m not sure if I’m doing it for myself or to show Zak he has a fearless mum, but it can’t do any harm. It’s the silliest of things like I redecorated the landing recently by myself – now having mentioned previously patience is not a strength of mine that means DIY is not a hobby I usually entertain. Yet in a weird way stripping back the wallpaper was like peeling back layers of me and in a weird way a kind of therapy. My biggest fear is I’ll be a pity party. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me I want to stand on my own 2 feet and show Zak what happens to us doesn’t define us.

This post turned into a bit of a depressing one and that wasn’t my intention but I wanted to be honest about some of the things I hide away. There’s still so much I’m working out and maybe I won’t figure it all out but its time for me.