marriage

Stress Explosions and Mental Breakdowns

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

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.

896 days

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

896 days.

After 896 days it is all finally over.
896 days of fighting.
896 days of dealing with lies and betrayal.
896 days of stress and crying.

It’s all over.

In the past 896 days I have changed more than I could ever put into words. I have grown up. I have started fighting for myself. I stopped giving in. I stopped caring about the opinions of others.

And I have never been more proud of myself. Not when I put myself through college and graduate school. Not when I trained for a marathon. Not when I left, what was my “grownup home”, for the last time.

And as I sit here, fresh from court, lounging on my couch in pajamas and eating cold pizza while watching Gossip Girl, I can’t even begin to concentrate on the fact that part of my life has ended. That a door has officially closed. A door I worked so hard to keep open for 15 years.

Today is the beginning of my life. The life that I have created. The life that I have worked for. The life that I deserve.

Confidence and marriage and running.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

We met in college.  We were in the same biology class and lab.  It was an 8 am class and I clearly wasn’t interested in impressing anybody since I showed up almost every day in my pajamas.  We became late partners (or rather a group of three) out of basic convenience…we sat near each other and it was easier than seeking out others.  I actually had a crush on the other guy in our group, but alas, he had a girlfriend.  We started studying together outside of class.  One thing led to another, and Poof!  Three years later we were married.  Now 13 years after that we are separated and headed towards divorce.

I was a mess when I was in college, even more so than I am now (for those who know me in “real life”).  I battled depression and manic episodes.  I was unhealthy.  I was “in love” with a boy from high school who was dating another girl.  I transferred schools every year or so and my debt was out of control (hi credit cards).  Because of all this, and I’m sure so much more,  I had the confidence of…well, I don’t know.  Let’s just say I had really low confidence.  And it took me a  long time (16 years to be exact) to realize this is the main contributor of me getting married and the age of 24 to my first “real” boyfriend.

In the beginning, I think I was just trying things out and having fun and then it became a dependency.  Here was a boy was was relatively normal and seemed to like me.  I’m lucky, I would think.  I don’t have to be alone anymore.  Did I love him?  I’m sure I did.  But I don’t think it was a life changing, earth shattering love.  And I know (especially now) that it wasn’t a love that could sustain a marriage.  I thought so little of my self and my self-worth that I  reveled in the attention. Someone likes me and I owe it to him to be with him.  It saddens me now thinking about how much my low self confidence contributed to this MAJOR aspect of my life.

There were times I felt that I should leave.  That I should break up with him because I knew I didn’t have what it takes to be his girlfriend and then his wife.  He deserved someone better, someone that was completely over the moon for him.  But instead I stayed.  I convinced myself I belonged there.  Someone loved me so much and I should stay with them because of this.  I worried I would hurt him and I didn’t want the guilt of hurting anyone.

In reality now, I realize I also stayed because I didn’t think anyone else would ever want me.  How horrible is that?  It took me a very long time to admit that to myself.

Our marriage was so tumultuous; up and down constantly that I couldn’t keep up.  I always wanted to leave, but never wanted to leave at the same time.  I didn’t want to be alone.  I didn’t want to have to start over.  I was safe here in this place.  Unhappy.  But safe.

I wish I knew what it was that finally made me realize it was OK to leave and that I deserved to be happy.  I know a small part of it was finding someone else who really did love me for me.  Another part was the kids and realizing that they shouldn’t be growing up in an unhappy home.

In all honesty, I think the biggest thing was that my confidence was improving and I know it had a lot to do with running.  Running made me happier and helped me become healthier, which of course led me to be more confident.  It was an outlet for my anger and frustration and gave me time to think and decide.

I loved myself during those times.

I haven’t run consistently since I began dating Joe.  I guess when I found another source of happiness running just fell to the side until it was almost non-existent.  While I am happier now than I have ever been, I miss the confidence.  I think that’s why I’m chasing running again after two years, and why I’m chasing this marathon.

I need to get that feeling back again…and I’ll make myself run until I do.

We’ll all float on Ok.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I don’t seem to know who I am anymore.

Not so long ago I felt like I had it all figured out.  I’m a mom.  I’m a runner.  I’m a teacher.  I’m a friend.  Things were going well.  I had a wonderful new daughter, two amazing boys, and a fantastic support system of friends and family.  I literally had no complaints and was perfectly content any happy.

And then I broke…again.

This wasn’t like the first time I felt that I had broke, when my dad had died.  When that happened I feel apart all at once so it was almost easier to out myself back together.  The pieces were right there and easier to find, not scattered over space and time.

I wish I could say I knew the exact moment that it happened, but really it was a series of events that started small, each one separately almost microscopic in size, but together crumbled my world into a million pieces.

I cut back on my running and dropped out of the NYC marathon.

An old friend came back into my life just when I thought I was finally over our past.

I lost a person in my life who I thought was a good friend.

The separation began…and ended…and began…and changed so much that I don’t even know where we are at this point.

Most recently I’ve done things I probably shouldn’t have.  I’ve eaten things I probably shouldn’t have.  I’ve stopped running altogether.  With each passing day, the numbers on the scale keep inching closer to where I said I never wanted to be again.  And the worst part of it all is that I just don’t seem to care.  Not about being a bad person, or losing certain people from my life, or even losing everything I worked for.  None of it.

I feel like I’m on the roundabout on the playground spinning more and more out of control each day.  The sad part is that I know I’m the one that’s pushing it to go faster and faster.  I am in complete and utter control of this and I can’t seem to jump off and just stop. Because I know that when I do I’m going to break even more from the impact.  I know that I’m really going to have to work to find all the pieces and put myself back together again.  Not only in the “now” but in the past too.  The task seems daunting and so impossible that 99% of the time I don’t even have the desire to try.

But then, out of the blue, today happened.  The 1%.  The one glimmer of hope I had been hoping for.

We’re driving to the park and the library and all three kids are squeezed into the back seat.  Charlotte is singing along to Modest Mouse playing in the background while Oliver and Max argued about how many sheep are in an adjoining field.  The sun was shining in the blue sky as wispy clouds float by, my hand out the window rising and falling in the warm air.  I finally felt it.  What I had been longing to feel for so long lately.  A sense of peace and contentment.   A sense of placement.

This is where I was supposed to be.  Maybe not forever, but at least for right now.

And with that tiny feeling of hope, I know that pretty soon I’ll have enough courage to make the leap off the roundabout.  And maybe, just maybe, my feet will actually hit the ground and I’ll be able to pick myself up and begin to collect all the pieces.

Yesterday was a good day.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Running is like life, it’s a long journey, but well worth it.” ~Unknown

I needed yesterday. More than you know.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning with the lovely pregnancy insomnia that has plagued me for weeks. It was also our first day without a delay or a day off in a week so the thought of working a full day was already tiring. When I couldn’t get back to sleep I decided just to get up and go for a run.

I hadn’t run in over a month and the entire month I felt off. February was rough. I had an extremely short temper with pretty much anyone that came in contact with me. I was angry, hostile, bitter. I felt like I hated the world. I felt like a terrible parent, a terrible wife, and a terrible friend. I blamed these feelings on the pregnancy and on the hormones, but really, what I think happened was that I just didn’t run.

Running has always been my therapy. As a kindergarten teacher and a mother, I don’t get much time to myself. Add pregnancy into the mix and most of the time that I had to myself had me being way too tired to do anything anyway.

I could tell you why I stopped for a month. I could tell you it was because the doctor recommended it (which she did, a least until 36 weeks), or because I was too busy, or because I was too tired. And for the most part all of these things are true. But the real reasons I stopped are far more shallow. I didn’t have a real goal to work towards to I slacked off. I got tired of seeing my mile times increase and increase some more. I got tired of seeing the scale go up incrementally.

So I stopped. I figured what’s the point. I would just sit around for the next few weeks and be lazy and grow a baby.

But what I’ve found is that I can’t stop. I need running. Like I need air. Like I need food. Like I need my family. I need it like my life depends on it. Because for all intents and purposes, it does.

So yesterday was important. Yes, I was more tired and sore than normal. But it didn’t matter. For the first time in a month I felt like me again. I felt positive. I felt ready. I felt alive.

So it’s time. It’s time to stop worrying about my time. It’s time to stopping thinking, period, and just run. Because you never know what amazing things lie on the horizon. And I know whatever they are, I can conquer them with my eyes wide open and my heart ready for anything.

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Clarity

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The beauty is that through disappointment you can gain clarity, and with clarity comes conviction and true originality.” ~Conan O’Brien

Do you have have those moments of clarity, you know, the ones where you are pretty sure you understand everything within the universe in an uncomplicated way?

Very rarely do these creep up on me, but today one did.  And what my moment of clarity brought me is the realization that I pretty much suck in all aspects of my world these days.  I’m a horrible wife, an exasperated mother, a bored teacher, and an unmotivated runner.  All I seem to want to do these days is eat, read, watch TV, and sleep and I rarely get the time to do any of these things.

I realize I’m causing a great disservice to most of the people around me.  I know what I should be doing, how I should be reacting, the effort I should be making and yet, I don’t (or I can’t).

Every night I make these grandiose plans and promises to myself that I’m going to do better, be better.  I’m not going to reply to every word spoken to me with sarcasm and contempt.  I’m not going to yell.  I am going to try my hardest.  I am going to put forth at least a little effort.  I’m going to put down the <insert food here> and get up and MOVE.

And yet, no matter how many times I have made these promises to myself, I have yet to keep them.  I wake up in a mood because of sheer exhaustion or because I simply don’t want to go to work and I immediately take it out on those around me.  No one is safe.  I always want it to be different, but it never is.

But the miracle is that every night I get to make that promise to myself and every morning I get to try and keep it.

Here we go…