Gut Oofs

It's nearly 3 months since my husband walked out on me and ghosted me.

I am having slightly more better days than bad days. It's usually what I've come to call "gut oofs" that can derail my not-as-stressed mood.

Finding old pictures that fell down behind a cabinet when I'm searching for a glue gun for kiddo's school project.

Finding old love letters written from me to him and vice versa while he was on a combat deployment to Afghanistan at the very beginning of our relationship when I'm cleaning out an old nightstand.

Seeing a check with both our names on it when it comes time to write the mortgage check.

All of things feel like a literal punch to the stomach. I don't know how else to describe it. They take my breath away just when I think I've found it. I can almost forget the deep pain, anger, and grief for short periods of time, but these "gut oofs" drag me back quickly.

When I come across these things, part of me wants to sob and sleep with them. The other part of me, the angry, feisty me, takes them and dumps them into the trash can. I may or may not angrily rip things to shreds beforehand.

I get mad because the whole marriage feels like a lie. How can you physically harm the person you promised to love and cherish, and then bail because you are "out of love" and "are moving on?" How can you just stop talking to someone you've been with for the better part of a decade? The person you were planning on buying a new house with soon, and a person with which you had a family? I'm not sure. I think it takes a special type of person to do that, one who really does not care and has not cared for a very, very long time.

I got an automated text message from a credit card company that one of his credit cards was past due. I warred internally over what to do. On one hand, I wanted to angrily ignore it, his credit be damned. The other part of me whispered that in order for me to get over this, I have to be zen about the whole thing. Rise above it, if you will. So after a day or so of deliberations, the zen (wanna-be zen...not even close to actual zen at the moment) part of me paid the credit card.

Hopefully, in time, the zen part of me will make more progress than the other parts.