The game of tug-of-war can be an endless exercise of push/pull, push/pull. It gets tiring, and I am so very tired.
In a game of
tug-a-war one person wins when the other person is pulled into line
(or falls in a heap). The game also ends when one person just decides
to drop the rope and walk away. Game over.
I have decided
to drop the rope. This is called 'no contact' (NC).
NC is the last
resort available to me and NC is my decision. I have no other choice if I want to feel safe and
work on getting healthy. No other choice if AB and I want to repair 'us'.
I can't control
what she says about us, her smear campaign, what she thinks, what she does. That is her stuff. I
can't fix anything. I also can't control your decisions. They are yours, as are the consequences.
I can only control
what I say, think and do and I take full responsibility for my decision and it's consequences.
No contact means
- no contact. No engagement at all.
In short, she is
dead to me, and in all honesty, she 'died' when I had my light bulb moment. I kept nudging the corpse, hoping, but no, I can no longer make excuses for her choices and her behaviour.
Or my own.
The seven stages
of grief are well known. It has been 16 months since the person I have been
kidding myself she was, 'died'. It is time to pick ourselves up and get on with
life.
Dealing with
grief is not easy. It's like a bad flu - you think you are over the worst
and then Wham! There you are again, flat on your back, reaching for the tissues,
burrowed up in a darkened room.
It will take time, but grief
passes. Eventually. As does life.
No comments:
Post a Comment