progress

Today I felt a little bit of personal progress.

I was running an errand without my toddler in tow and I did not listen to angry music the entire time. I didn’t keep listening to Eminem’s new album over and over. I switched over to a little Collective Soul and Snow Patrol. And that was a small bit of progress.

Today, you called and were rude to me and when you weren’t being rude, you were cold and indifferent. You said you wanted to keep a lot of the furniture and other things that you years ago made fun of me for buying, things that my son and I could use now. And you know what? It didn’t bother me. My heart rate didn’t increase, my head didn’t start pounding, and I didn’t have this feral urge to reach through the phone and strangle you. I just existed there, in that moment, and nothing else. A small bit of progress.

Tonight, I went through more boxes of our stuff in an attempt to clean out the storage space and broken memories in our basement. And as I opened up each box of devastating treasures from our marriage, I turned each object over and felt… I felt nothing. I moved with the efficiency of a well-tuned robot because for the most part, I felt nothing. A small bit of progress.

Of course, it was only a small bit of progress.

On my drive, after one and a half Collective Soul songs, I switched to Snow Patrol for a few minutes, and then back to Eminem and cranked the music up. I let the feral anger back in.

Today after I spoke with you I pictured you with her and I tried to count your lies again. I realized my anger was still very much alive and I said a prayer to the devil.

And tonight while I was going through the boxes, I stuffed/threw/stomped/broke everything of yours into a trash bag with more intention and purpose than a life preserver on a sinking ship.

But, it was a little bit of progress. A wise friend warned me that I would experience the seven stages of grief through this separation/divorce. And while thanks to them I was expecting to feel those seven stages, I never imagined the anger stage would be so deep, boiling within me, like lava.

I looked up the stages of a volcanic eruption, out of curiosity. Maybe that’s where I’m at right now. Maybe there are actually several stages of anger.

Volcano eruptions go through several stages typically beginning with earthquake swarms, then moving to initial steam and ash venting, lava dome buildup, dome collapse, magmatic explosions, more dome growth interspersed with dome failures and finally, ash, lava and pyroclastic eruptions.

Stages of a Volcano Eruption, Sciencing; https://sciencing.com/stages-volcano-eruption-8549867.html

Sounds about right.

But today I made a little bit of progress and that’s good enough for me, and luckily for my husband the devil didn’t listen.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay