The end of the year is a time people often reflect on what has happened during the course of the year. Only the walls know exactly how much I have to reflect on, but I do not find myself doing this. The end of this year and the beginning of this one raise a different sort of reflection. This is the last day of of my year of my fail marriage, and tomorrow is the first anniversary of the same. I don’t think I made the wrong choice to leave my husband after he put his hands on my throat, but it brings forth all these self doubts. This is my second failed marriage. I find these horrible thoughts creeping in.
Is there something wrong with me? Am I unworthy of love? Am I too unattractive to keep a man sexually interested in me? Will I always be alone? There is a reason no one can love me. Will I always fail at being with someone? I will never be happy while I am so lonely.
Now, the intelligent part of my brain is getting angry. I am sure that these secret doubts are bubbling up from the cracks in my heart. Even though my best friend crushed me with the pressure that his hands didn’t put on me, I am positive none of these things are true. I sit here in an expected and exasperating ball of internal turmoil.
So, today I’ll suck up more of these doubts into the abyss that I haven’t quite conquered yet, and do my best to move forward through the next two days with a smile. I’ll imbibe some good spirit and pretend to be happy for my son and family. I will remain this untarnished rock of impermeable will and spirit that they need me to be, when all I want to do it cry. And I will do this will a smile (and maybe even a hang over).