In the comments a couple of posts ago, I mentioned our American quick fix ideas when it came to weight loss. If it's bright, shiny and costs a shit load of money, it must work! It will make me lose 50 pounds in two weeks! Whooo hooo! Sign me up!
People are free to be as stupid as they wish. They are free to waste their money. They are free to think swinging from one diet to the next will get them what they want. Frankly, I don't care.
The thing is, we have the same mentality for so many other things as well. Quick fix, get on with it, life is all shiny and happy again. Hey loser, why are you still crying????
I fell into that trap this week. No, things aren't all done with but I certainly hope the worst is over.
So, I asked myself, why am I hit by the sudden need to deflate and cry. Yes, I have my victim impact statement rolling around in my head 24-7. Yes, I see the effects of this life in my kid's eyes. Yes, I feel horribly alone and exposed.
But hey, the worst is over, right?
It didn't hit me until I was out and about and I happened to overhear a conversation while looking for fabric for my tablecloth. While browsing at the quilt store, one of the older employees was discussing how people are treating her, one month after losing her husband of several decades.
They're telling her to get out and start dating.
They're telling her that it's time to get over it.
They are taking whatever she tells them, from the bottom of her heart, and stomping on it.
She was absolutely beside herself. "How can people say that? How can they be so cruel?"
I wanted to give this woman a hug while she cried. I wanted to tell her that I had a shitty marriage for a measly 17 years that ended with infidelity and pedophilia and it's been five months and I'm still not over it. Check back in a year, or two, or more.
People have a right to mourn their sadness.
I actually caught myself humming the other day and it made me stop in my tracks. When was the last time I hummed a tune while cooking dinner? Months.
The realization of moving on made me smile, for a minute. Then I stopped and burst into tears.
It is such a long road to travel.
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1 comment:
My situation wasn't nearly as awful as yours, but I still find myself a little stunned when I hear people telling me to "put myself out there" and "date". Is that supposed to make the shit go away? Doesn't seem like a viable solution to me...
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