My mind is alight with all of the messages telling me that leaving was a horrible idea. That leaving this time is just like all of the times I left in the thick of PMDD symptoms. I should go back immediately, beg and grovel for him to take me back. I should welcome the swell of shame, as it sends all of my nerve endings afire. As I am the only person apologizing, as I am the only person saying, “please come back to me baby. I love you so much.”
God what I would give for those words to be spoken to me now. They never have been spoken to me, but for some reason I feel that this time it will be different. I know this is not true, and I know this is another baited hook.
I have left before, for days at a time. I have never left on an airplane before, or left the same continent. But there is a first time for everything.
What there is no history of, is my husband apologizing for fighting with a woman in the throes of PMDD for months and months. There is no history of this man even acknowledging my pain in our battles. There is no history of this man encouraging me to use my DBT skills, or doing exercise with me. Plenty of times where he has encouraged me to get loaded to numb it, eat sweets for a momentary rush, binge-watch movies to zone out. There are all sorts of examples that show me this man did not plan on being a part of my healing journey. What I didn’t know then, as I opened that DBT book with an earnest plan to heal, was that our marriage was doomed.
Skill by skill, tool by tool, I have become familiar with something I never knew before. I am worthy. I am capable. I am strong, determined, responsible, resourceful, creative, adventurous, giving, honest. I am enough. In my suffering, I am enough. In my anger, I am enough. In my humility, I am enough. On my own, I am enough.
These self-nurturing thoughts rise and fall, as do the thoughts of dueling and darker wishes, equally loud, alive within me:
I should deny and numb the unbearable sadness and fear I feel instead of digging in and experiencing it fully.
I should use the same unhelpful coping mechanisms that I used to do before my PMDD diagnosis, like binge-drinking.
I should go back to my marriage, while also being fully aware that it is an unhealthy one for both of us.
I should go back to who I was…
Before my PMDD treatment.
Before my DBT therapy.
Before my lifestyle and dietary changes.
Before I learned of Wise Mind, breathing exercises, fact-checking and GIVE.
I should go back to the brokenness of judging myself for all of the healthy things I should do. Already doing them and still feeling unbearable sadness makes no sense.
Our society says that if you do all of the things, then you get all of the rewards. Where are my fucking rewards? Where did my marriage, my best friend and my life go?
Sure, I don’t feel suicidal ideation anymore and it used to be daily. So?
Sure, I don’t feel like I am being slightly electrocuted through all of my waking hours anymore because of a dysregulated nervous system. So?
Sure, I am, for once, able to give myself understanding, acceptance and a curiosity that I’ve never had before. So?
So….I guess this is what radical acceptance is all about. THIS is what duality is about.
Life is full of dueling truths. Somehow we don’t remember this in the thick of the suffering.
I am relieved to have walked out of a marriage that was mentally and emotionally abusive. I am proud of myself for accepting only one instance of physical violence, and pulling the plug when it happened, without a second thought.
I am simultaneously mourning a husband who also was generous with his loved ones, cuddly, smart, sexy and someone I am still in hopelessly in love with. Strange and impossible? It sure feels that way, but this is the reality. At times, my husband was the best. At the most crucial times, he was scarred and dark, refusing to do anything to help us heal and grow.
I was putting all of my hope for happiness in someone who was too dark to receive it or acknowledge it.
What happened to us yesterday, happened when I was on day 8 and asymptomatic. The physical actions taken by my husband yesterday were what finally broke us, not my PMDD.
I am proud of myself for being brave enough to have moved to another country with only a couple suitcases with the man I loved and my cat.
I am also terrified that when I step back onto US soil, I do so alone. With no home. No job, no prospects and no partner. And no cat.
I both cherished my life with my husband and know that staying with him may have killed me. In the end, I had to prioritize the healing of my inner child over the healing of his.
Duality is hard. But I know that the more I lean into the truth that life is BAD and GOOD, UNBEARABLE and AMAZING, DIFFICULT and TRIUMPHANT, I know I am starting on the right foot when I land.