11 May 2017
Back to traveling again. Seems like my May and June calendar has filled up, without being fully aware it happened. I’m embracing it. I have to. It’s the freedom to move around, not being chained to anything or anyone; but I still have Duke-puppy in my care, so he’s my only other priority. If the end is near, it’s so far away. Plus, I still have to continue moving forward. I am, literally, one month away from finishing this third degree. I am on a plane, headed east for graduation. My third degree and I have decorated my cap…there’s a first time for everything.
I think about dates. My dad’s birthday is tomorrow. We both were born on the 12th. He would have been 66, and I can’t help but think what he, and my mom, would think of this ridiculous mess I’m in. Would they have asked me to go home? Questions. So many questions, and I have to stop asking them because they won’t do me any good.
This fucking mess. I’ve been in hell since January? No. December? No. November. That sounds about right. This fucked up mess has sapped my energy, motivation, appetite, and ability to sleep. My clothing continues to fall off my frame, getting leaner with each passing week. I recently saw photos of myself; someone had hijacked my phone at a committee dinner and I stared at the image on the screen. That’s me? Wow. Catching up with friends after and I know everyone notices. It’s hard not to.
So…I’m smack-dab in the middle of week 6. I’m waiting for a chardonnay on this bird. I’m letting the Wasband buy me a drink or two…or three… Running on another standard 3 hours 20 minutes of sleep and the adrenaline keeps pushing me. I dread the day it stops pumping through my veins and mind; it’s going to be a hard crash, or I can head it off by doing something epic.
Graduation. Usually signifies the end, but I am able to walk even though I’m a month away from being done. I’ll take it. Family is arriving from NY and IN to help me celebrate. I fear what my Aunt Fabulous is doing at the ceremony. Last year, for my niece and nephew’s high school graduation, she had their faces blown up and put on large sticks. Think Big Head meets a popsicle stick. From photographs, it looks like the heads are floating! Whatever happens is sure to bring a smile to my face and a large, guttural laugh. If you hear about a family that makes New Hampshire news, or even the news at Southern New Hampshire University, chances are it’s mine. Haha
Natalie’s journey has begun. She’s floating out in some familiar, yet unfamiliar place. It’s all about the journey, and I am a firm believer in this. Heck, I look at where I am in this moment, this time, and in my life. Never in a million years did I ever think I would have three degrees; would be married and now in the middle of a divorce. Whore. Adulterer. Let me reign my anger back in. I’ve lost the one outlet I could really shout at. Bastard. Bitch.
I will not let any of this define me. It can mold, shape, soften me into self-discovery, but I am not the victim. It took several months to bring myself to say this, and not because I am broken, but because I was torn down slowly. It took space, a vast amount of space, distance and boundaries to shift my feet through the numbing waters to begin to see more clearly. I began to see true colors. I began to sort of find me, randomly wandering. What I found was an old me, who wasn’t afraid to be her true self. She busted out of that shell, and I’m still not convinced the world is ready for the phoenix emerging.
This journey is far from over. Four weeks still remain. A small period of taking a break is to follow (once I’m done) where I will enjoy my own company and get lost in a world I can’t wait to escape into. Then I will begin to think about the shift in this blog. Post-education. Post-divorce. Into the depths of healing.
In the meantime, I am going to accept all of the hugs, smiles, laughter and memories that will be created this weekend. #SNHU2017. It’s here!