By HAREM
Date: 1 March 2001
** BROKEN DREAMS / BROKEN GLASS
One of the darkest times in my life is when my first husband and I broke up.....
I was loosing the love of my life....... my high school sweetheart..... but more than that.
I lost my best friend...... someone who I trusted with my life..... my heart..... my soul......
Before I met HIM, I had a severe inferiority complex.......
I was unable to hold a conversation with most people.......
I was very self conscious..... with low self esteem..... and no ego whatsoever......
With my very first date with Him....... all of that changed.....
I was never to be the same again......
I can still remember that night....... as clearly as if it was yesterday.....
We were driving in his car...... on our way to a wonderful evening......
I sat so close to the passengers door...... that he worried about me falling out......
He kept urging me to move closer to him..... promising me that he would not bite me.....
I think I might have moved a quarter of an inch........
He spent the first part of the evening..... trying to pry me away from the door....
His next biggest project that evening...... was to get me to talk.......
Something he may have regretted later on in life....... Smile.....
When I smiled........ I covered my mouth with my hand.......
To hide my teeth......ashamed of the space between my top front teeth.....
He pulled my hand away..... each time I smiled.....
Convincing me that I had a beautiful smile......
And that the separation was quite sexy........
At first I did not believe him....... but eventually I felt his sincerity.......
I could not believe that I had a beautiful anything......
or that anything I owned..... could ever be sexy......
After years of being raised by a father that never talked to me......
except to criticize and make fun of me.......
I could not believe that any man would actually have something nice to say to me......
I ate up his attention like a hungry child..... starved for kindness....
After several hours of silence on my part...... He was almost frantic .....
In trying to get me to talk to him.........
He prodded me with questions...... and eventually I began to speak.....
He sincerely complimented me on the things I said and shared with him....
Telling me that I was very easy to talk to.... and very interesting....
He taught me to love myself......
He convinced me that I was interesting..... that what I had to say was important.....
He helped me to open up....... to begin to live ....... without fear of criticism.......
He showed me how to share myself........to like myself....... to feel worthwhile.....
And I could go on...... about all the healing he gave to me......
Through his encouragement, his praise..... his sincere compliments.....
Through his intense interest in what I had to say .....
So over the years of being with him........ a great healing inside of me took place.....
My self confidence grew tremendously, .... along with my ability to share myself with others......
He was therapeutic for me...... gave me back my dignity........ and restored my broken ego.......
But above all that......... for the first time in my life...... I had a true friend........ that I trusted completely.....
We dated for two years before we married.......
After ten years of marriage and four children together..............
My best friend betrayed me in every way imagineable,.. .
The trust was gone forever....
We broke up........ Never to share anything again.......
I was devastated................. I had lost my best friend......
I suffered a major breakdown...... some call it a mental breakdown, .... some call it a nervous breakdown........
I remember it vaguely....... My oldest children still remember......
I was told by my mother and a few friends....... that I stopped eating, stopped talking, and stopped sleeping........
That I stared into space with a blank look on my face that lasted for days, and weeks........
I don't know who took care of my children........
I am under the impression that the oldest took care of the youngest......
I am rather ashamed of that period in my life.....
I learned quickly, how strong I was..... and yet how weak and vulnerable.......
The fear of being alone with four small children, no job, no education, and no reason to live...........
It took me many years to find inner strength and courage to survive..............
I wonder thru tears, if anyone knows how hard this is to write.....
and to recall..... the agony......
During the time immediately following my separation from him .......
Many strange and uncomforable things happened to me........
Some of which I can recall...... some which my mind will not allow......
Of these, there is one which involved my children..... which still brings laughter and tears to me.....
As I began to come out of the breakdown, I was overcome by a terrible urge to break things ........
Anything......
I started with the dishes, the china, plates, bowls, drinking glasses, anything that would break.......
My poor children had to watch me........
They were kind enough NOT to stop me...... as if they knew that it was something I had to do........
Like letting a person cry....... when they need to let out the pain...... to enjoy the sweet release......
I went through the closets like an addict looking for a fix..........
Searching frantically for anything that could break........
Carrying stacks of china, glass, porcelain, and anything that made a clanging sound.....
Stacking them in the hallway........ preparing for the festival of breakage......
The children watched me in awe........ Wide eyed they looked at each other....
Unsure if to laugh with joyful glee...... or horror.....
Standing in the hallway........ I began to chuck the plates, and bowls, and saucers......
Throught the air...... with all my strength...... like a discus thrower in a marathon......
Into the living room they went........ the sound of them breaking against the walls......
Music to my ears........ a release for my soul......... it felt wonderful......
I can't explain the feeling....... Nothing mattered...... the cost was irrelevant.......
I threw.... and threw.... and threw........
Then tossed , and chucked, and sailed them high into the air.........
With each crash..... I felt sweet release for the pain.......
But the pain was so great....... there were not enough dishes to release it all.......
So I searched for other breakable objects.......
The children began to help with the search.........
So cooperative and helpful they were...... in helping me with my breaking spree......
They became engrossed in my madness.......
They even asked if they could throw some too........
Sure..... why not........
Why should Mommy be having all the fun......
And so the four of us.........
Spent what seemed like hours........ throwing and breaking and crashing......
Until we were all exhausted....................
Some plates refused to break....... which added to our fun......
We went over to the broken pile...... and retrieved those that did not break.....
And those that only partially broke....... and re-used them as projectiles......
Over and over.....
It was glorious........ like the crescendo to a great masterful aria...
After the exhaustion set in.......... we looked at each other..... and began to laugh.......
I laughed until I cried........ and I cried until I collapsed.......
Then I got back up........ and found more to throw...........
And then in her beautiful innocence........ my 3 year old daughter approached me.....
Holding in her little hands, .... a dust pan in one and a broom in the other.............
And in her little sweet voice...... she gently reminded me........
"Don't forget Mommy....... when you're done, you have to clean it up,,,, "
Those magical words she uttered...... broke the ugly spell that had been cast upon me......
Instantly....... I awoke from the madness of destruction, from the breakdown that was crushing me.........
The spell was broken by the words of an angel through a childs mouth.....
I was released at last from the vindictive pain of loss.......
The pain soon became great laughter which spread among us.........
Not a laughter of madness...... but a laughter of release from the prison of pain.....
The laughter was so intense....... our sides began to ache........
I hugged them all....... asked for their forgiveness...... and we began to clean our mess.....
The boys, however, as I recall....... said it was so much fun......
They wondered, if someday in the future we could do it again........
My only reply was...... " I hope not....".....
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