My first post

 

I have always been very fortunate throughout my life, I had a good childhood, happy upbringing with lots of good memories. Overall, life was good and I was fairly happy, never stayed down for long. That all changed in 2018, in a matter of months, my life completely fell apart and over a year later… I am still putting it back together. My story goes like this…

A year and a half ago, I was in a relationship with what I thought was the man of my dreams, living in a beautiful house, life was good! I was working a stable job, but dreamed of something more and had been working on a career change for a while. After I finally made the leap from my old job, it turned out, the “better opportunity” went up in smoke right before my eyes. I was left panicking, with no way to pay bills in a few weeks… But my boyfriend reassured me that he would cover things for both of us for a while. So I started working on a new plan, did some research and settled on something I was excited about. I started taking steps to pursue this new path and was eager to get back to work.

A few weeks later, my world shattered to pieces. Miscarriage. At first, I wasn’t even sure what was happening… It wasn’t time for my period and this was so much different. My worst fear was confirmed after a call to a friend… I had been pregnant but didn’t know it yet, and lost it. I was absolutely devastated, completely heart broken. My whole life, I’d dreamed of being a Mom… I felt like my heart and soul had been ripped out of me, there was no joy left. Nothing but grief…

What came next, was my relationship falling apart a week later. It was brutal what he said to me, how he had lied to me that past year we had spent together. It only got worse, as he then proceeded to kick me out of the house… I was crushed.. I thought we were happy, that things were good and I was devastated to learn that had all been an illusion.

So I showed up on my parents doorstep, sobbing with a suitcase in my hand. They had no idea any of this was going on. Thankfully, I was able to move back home and I was glad to be surrounded by my family while I tried to get my life back together. A week after I move home, my cat Molly that I had for 15 years, became unexpectedly ill… 6 long weeks later, she lost her battle and I had to put her down. My heartbreak found a new depth as the last thing I had was taken from me.

The next few months were long, stressful and frustrating as I desperately looked for a job. I was finally hired, thanks to an old friend and had a new routine to keep me busy. This worked for a while, but all the emotions I had bottled up eventually boiled back to the top. It’s been a year and I am still working through all that I lost and all the issues I now have because of it.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that healing is a process and takes a lot more than just time.