Ok, so, you have successfully rappelled out of the tower and made it to the ground without killing yourself. Um… now what??
I was incredibly lucky that I had a good friend staying the night with me and when we woke up, she heard the frog in all his glory being his normal douchetastic self. She was all, “Oh HELL no!” in a whispered voice. Now, mind you, this was New Years Day and we were both still hung over from our fun the night before, which the frog decided wasn’t worth his time (good riddance). We left my place to go pick up L’s daughter from her mother’s house. She said to me, “You CANNOT go back! This is an intervention! I am officially kidnapping you!” Uh… no? You see, I still wasn’t sold on the idea of leaving. Because it was MY apartment! I was the one working to pay for everything. He should be the one to have to leave. But, boys and girls, I had a choice to make…
I could be right. OR I could be happy.
So, I made the decision that happy kicks right’s ass every day of the week. So, I moved out. In my mind. It was a covert decision. You see, the frog was a terrific salesman because he can manipulate anyone into anything, almost without their knowledge or consent. I knew if I went home and said, “I’m leaving you” he would plant the seed of doubt. So, basically I told him that L was having a crappy day and I was going to spend the night with her. I went home, making no eye contact, as you are to do when approached by a wild animal, and threw as much as I could get away with into a bag. Then I left.
And never went back.
Sure, I would sneak over while he was at work to get more stuff, but I never spent another night there.
And then I spent 3 days at L’s house, sleeping on her daughter’s bed which was clearly only meant for a 4 year old to enjoy, and I alternated between crying and sleeping. Because that is what you do. On the 3rd day, I moved my pity party to the couch. I told L that I wanted to go home. Not to him, but to my environment.
But I stuck it out.
And people came out of the woodwork to keep me entertained. I never had such a full social calendar!! And it was great! I kept saying, “I’m fine!” I will tell you, that worked. For a while. But, eventually, we must process the loss and the emotions or we will go insane.
Which is what I did. I went nuts. Well, not straight jacket nuts, but not happy nuts for sure. I started getting physically sick from my emotional garbage. Not that I knew that or acknowledged the root at the time. Y’all, I have not one, but TWO degrees in Psychology, and am a pretty smart cookie… but I still fell into the moat.
You see, when we escape the tower, we aren’t home free. We still have to outrun the guard dogs nipping at our knickers. Then there is the moat. Oh that stupid moat. It is deep, cold, and filled with nasty things that we don’t want to deal with. But, in order to get out, we MUST deal with the nasty.
And it sucks big, fat donkey balls. But we have to do it, my fellow princesses. Because the world is so much cleaner on the other side of the moat. I have reached this point, and you can too. You just have to jump…