This post is inspired by the following question that appeared on my Twitter timeline:
How do you deal with being cheated on?
My response? Leave.
There are some things that can be forgiven (e.g., forgetting a birthday, anniversary, paying the cable bill on time, etc). Cheating ain’t one of ’em.
For some, the logical decision to leave isn’t so clear-cut.
Trust is a hard thing to gain to begin with. It’s earned, not given by default to any ol’ body.
Once that trust is violated, it’s damn near impossible to get back. I can recall an instance where I knew that he was cheating but my heart wanted to stay.
It can work, I would tell myself. Now matter how hard I tried to make it work, there was no amount of forgiveness to make me forget.
I didn’t believe anything he said anymore. Questioned his whereabouts each time he came home. Raised an eyebrow anytime he used his phone. Made myself anxious worry about him instead of packing to leave. Anxiety is the byproduct of worrying. It wrecks havoc on your well-being. No amount of delusion can fix the damage that has been done.
When trust flees the scene, that’s your cue to leave as well.
I don’t liked to share my problems and/or issues with anyone. In the past, I’ve disclosed to people in confidence only to find out they violated my trust.
So I dealt with things alone, which worked in theory. However, it wrecked havoc on my health. Lots of sleepless nights, loss of appetite, horrible hair days, and that’s just the physical ramifications.
Mentally, the anxiety from worrying held me hostage. I felt like the world around me hit PAUSE because I was unable to focus on anything besides the issue/problem at hand.
Once a solution was found, I was able to mentally hit PLAY and life proceeded to go on.
The last time an issue wrecked havoc, I was determined not to go through this. I grabbed my journal, taking my time to detail what was weighing heavily on my mind. As I wrote, I felt the weight becoming lighter. A feeling of immense calm rushed over me and I was able to focus on a possible solution.
Find your own way of letting go. It benefits no one to bottle up all of that stress and anxiety.
Help yourself continue to be your best self.
Behind the dimpled smile
Past the contagious laughter
A flicker of sadness rests in her eyes.
Anxiety agitates her stomach
Stress dances on her spine
Pride won’t show it
Alone, she cries.
Fear and worry flow hot
Down her cheeks.
Weight slowly lifting
From her burdened shoulders.
A beautiful sadness revealed
A dimpled smile and contagious laughter.
But no amount of tears
Can remove that flicker of sadness from her eyes.
Susan looks so calm holding that gun by her side. It takes a few minutes for me to calm my nerves and gather my thoughts.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘money doesn’t keep crazy away’”?
Susan laughs and walks over to the bookshelf. She carefully puts the gun back in the book and places the book back on the shelf.
“Let’s not play stupid Ashley. You know exactly what I mean. Yelena is not going to just go away. No amount of money is going to keep her away. A bullet on the other hand…”
Oh. My. Damn.
“You can’t possibly be talking about a permanent means to remove Yelena from our lives?”
Susan sits on the chaise lounge and rubs her ankle.
“What part of permanent don’t you understand?” she asks, left eyebrow raised.
“You know what? Your hormones have you on 10 and I need you to bring it down to two and a quarter. You’re pregnant. Sit your ass down somewhere, put your fucking feet up, and chill the fuck out!!”
Storming out of the room, I didn’t hear her respond. At that moment, I had enough of her. If her way of coping with the truth is the handgun edition of Show and Tell, how the hell is she going to deal with motherhood?
“Where are you going?! I know you hear me!!!!”
Feeling an anxiety attack coming on, I grab my jacket from the hall closet, and snatch my keys from the stand next to the front door. The door closes behind me. With hands shaking and breathing erratic, I get on the elevator to the lobby. Opening the lobby door, the cool air dances across my face. Standing against the brick wall, I release the tears. Tears steady flowing, I grab my phone from my pocket and send a text.
I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Do you always look before you leap?
My mother taught me to look before I walk.
If I’m taking a risk, I always run the risk of letting anxiety take over, so I’ll leap and then look.
By then, it’s too late to go back, so enjoy the journey.