At some point during my struggles with bulemia I acknowledged the vision I had of my body was skewed. I knew that when I looked in the mirror and saw “fat” others saw the thin, normal, attractive. One day I decided to rely on the eyes of others until I could fix mine. I called it the “wisdom of the masses.” It worked.
The same thing happened after posting “Questioning.” I knew that I couldn’t see what was really here. I knew I needed to use your view of our struggle to see more clearly.
“In ways your husband has been at war in a distant country,” said a wise friend. “Now Art is back, as back as any vet can be, and it is right to feel different.” And with those words, the lost, ungrounded feeling I’d been working through lifted, like magic. The other comments provided sustenance. The emails gave me courage.
In my head, I understood that our relationship could not go back; in my heart my expectation was that it would, that it should. The longest distance, they say, is between your head and your heart.
I work through these emotions with friends, a therapist and my fingers, and still I get stuck. I am not a patient person. The demands I place on myself to fix, mend, and take action basically mean I hate processing – it’s so time consuming. “Art’s better. Life is good. Yup, it’s been 16 days since he showed up. Plenty of time! Chop, chop, let’s get this life moving!” In hindsight, it’s almost funny!
When I stand patiently in this process of growth and watch, I am awed at how far we have come, at how strong and determined he is, and at how strong and determined I am too. It’s hard to let go of a sinking raft. At least you know what will happen if you cling; the shore is this distant place where the possibilities are endless – endless is good but scary.
However, like before, I trusted the wisdom of those around me and what I got was a clearer vision and a reminder of how incredibly grateful I am for all that I have, including you the reader.
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