It’s been a hot minute since I have written. I write like I tend to address everything in my life…with an all or nothing mentality. So you either get 15 posts from me in a week or none for months.

If you missed my post from last week, you saw that I finally got divorced. It took 896 days (not including the entire year I slept on the couch before actually leaving), thousands (and I mean many thousands) of dollars, and an entire beating to my mental health. That’s not to say that I don’t feel like a stronger person after going through this, I absolutely am. But the hyper focus of constantly fighting someone, fighting for someones, and having to be strategic and concentrated on every move made, every word uttered, every email sent, every dollar spent for two and a half years take its toll. And then to take all of that baggage and stress away, the amount of which was weighing on you every minute of every day for two and a half years, in less than two minutes, has genuine repercussions.

Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy? I used to, until yet another random sibling popped up from out of the blue and then I just couldn’t hang. I always think maybe I’ll try again. But I digress. Anyway, there’s this episode where a boy is fully encased in cement and they are trying to get him out. Long story short, they are about to remove the final piece of cement that has been weighing on his body when Dr. Bailey tells him that there’s a chance that when they remove the final piece of cement, the toxins that have been building up will rush to his heart, which will cause his heart to stop and he’ll stop breathing.

And that’s exactly what happened to me Saturday night.

Not really the not breathing part (aside from the panic attack) but rather the emotional breakdown that comes from having every anguishing problem and emotion that you have had to deal with for 2.5 years just suddenly cease to be a factor in your life.

Thursday after court I came home and chilled on the couch. I watched TV, relaxed, feeling good about myself. Feeling good about my outcome. Feeling good about the direction of my life for the first time in so many years. And then on Friday I noticed the overwhelming fatigue. I couldn’t stay awake. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay under the blankets and just sleep for a long time. I managed to drop the kids off to school, get to work, and come home and parent, but really it felt more like I was simply going through the motions, or playing a part in a play of someone I was supposed to be.

Saturday morning was much of the same, but by Saturday night I was not in a good place. I’ll spare you all the gory details, but panic attacks, throwing up, fighting with Joe, scary thoughts, all raced into me at one time and I just didn’t know what to do. I thought once the whole ordeal was over I would be happier right away. And I am, I really am. This was the right decision.

But I have never gone past the “no turn around zone” in any of my decisions. The finality and completeness engulfed me in a way that I wasn’t prepared for, because without this gigantic conflict looming over my head, day in and day out, what was I supposed to do with my time? What was I supposed to think about? I was so used to fighting that now I have no idea what I’m supposed to be fighting for…if I’m even supposed to be fighting at all.

On Sunday, my bearings slowly returned and today I feel a lot better. I spent so much time focusing on someones else that I know I neglected myself in the process. I no long have a person to blame for my anger. I no longer have a situation to blame for my emotions. I have no more scapegoats. I have no more reasons to make excuses. For the first time in a long time, I get to focus on me. And as much as I am excited about the process, it’s scary as hell at the same time.