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Wednesday is my son’s sixth birthday, but that’s not the only reason why it’s special. It also marks my two-and-a-half-year SingleMommyversary.
My how we’ve both grown.
I really haven’t talked much about my first few months as a single mom here on Sex Lies and Bacon, probably because it was an extremely dark time for me that I used to be ashamed of. While I’ve touched on the pain that I felt in the first post I ever wrote here titled When One Door Closes, I’m not sure I could ever accurately describe the feelings that I went through during the grieving period that followed my first night as a Single Mom.
If you’re reading this as a Single Mom or Single Dad by betrayal, then you’ve probably experienced it too. There’s nothing quite like losing everything you thought you ever wanted and needed, due to another person’s selfishness. The shock is enough to kill you. The lack of control can be maddening. The crushing blows to your self esteem when your lover decides that someone else is worth the risk of not only losing you but the family you’ve built together is enough to bring the strongest person to their knees.
For months I lived in a nightmare. It began the day after my ex officially ended things with me. I woke up the next morning for work in a daze. I went through my usual motions of showering and getting dressed. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and stared blankly at myself in the mirror.
Wasn’t I supposed to feel different?
I felt absolutely nothing.
I arrived at work twenty minutes later and stood at my register. At that time I was working as a cashier at ShopRite to pay for my son’s pre-school tuition. The pay was shitty and the hours sucked, but it filled me with pride knowing I was responsible for my son’s education expenses.
My first customer of the day walked up to make a purchase and I greeted him with a forced smile, wondering how many minutes had passed into my shift. A glance over at my monitor told me exactly two.
Fuck this day.
Three more customers came and went, as well as another fifteen minutes. Then my fifth customer approached and started unloading her groceries. She was an older woman and seemed nice, so I came around to help her with all of the heavy things. Then I rang her up, took her money, thanked her, and handed her her change. That’s when she started shrieking that I’d forgotten her nickel and all hell broke loose.
I should’ve been proud that I held it together that long considering my unexpectedly becoming a Single Mom the night before. It took me thirty-two minutes before my epic meltdown, in which I started howling loudly at my register, so loudly that nearly everyone on the front end turned to stare. Once the tears started there was no stopping them. Then came the shakes. And the dry heaving. And more tears. I had a full on nervous breakdown on the front end of the North Brunswick ShopRite.
One of the managers caught wind of what was happening and came to my rescue. At least I thought he was coming to my rescue. Turned out he was coming to the customer’s rescue to retrieve her forgotten nickel from my register while I continued to cry all over her 12-pack of Bounty paper towels. He then escorted me to a secluded area where I could no longer frighten the patrons with my violent sobbing.
My co-workers swarmed around me like a pack of drama hungry wolves. I couldn’t blame them, really. Had the roles been reversed I’m sure I would’ve wanted to get in on the excitement of an otherwise boring workday. Much to their dismay I continued to bawl, unable to get a word out as to what was going on and why I had lost my mind at 9am on a Monday morning. It took a good forty-five minutes before I calmed down enough to begin to explain what had happened, at which point someone grabbed my cell phone and called my mother to come get me. I was in no condition to drive and didn’t want to go back to my apartment in my current state anyway. I didn’t want my son or my ex to see me as weak or temporarily insane.
Shortly after I found myself at my mother’s, pumped full of Xanax and comfortably numb. It was the only way my Mom could get me to stop crying. Bless her Xanax loving heart.
I stayed that way for three days while leaving my son in his father’s care. I forgot I was a mother. I forgot my world had been turned upside down. I forgot that I had no money saved, no career, and no home. I forgot I was single after five years of sharing my life with the man I thought was “the one” only to have him leave me for another woman. Hell, I forgot my own name.
Damn that Xanax was good.
Eventually my vacation from reality had to end. I sobered up, pulled myself together, headed home to my apartment to reclaim my son, and to face my ex and my new life as a single mom.
For weeks I woke up, day after day, replaying what had happened to me. I desperately wanted to figure out exactly where I’d gone wrong, because at that point I blamed myself. That was just my way back then. I’d rather blame myself for things because if I did it meant I could fix them. Maybe there was some way I could get my life back. If I said or did the right thing, or looked the right way, maybe, just maybe, I could convince my ex to stay. I was terrified to raise my son alone, and to be alone. I’d spent my entire life dependent on other people, never knowing how capable I truly was.
For three months my ex and I continued to share an apartment while I tried to figure out how to support my son and myself. Purgatory is what I’ve come to call it. It was like chasing after my old life, only to catch a glimpse of its shadow. My ex would come and go, and when he came he’d smell like her, leaving me wondering what she had that I did not.
In those ninety days he did unspeakably hurtful things. By the time I left, I was a shell of my once confident self. His disrespect and disregard for my feelings led me to believe I was worth nothing more than a piece of trash. When I finally walked out the door I was crumpled and torn, wondering if any man would ever want me again.
This is the part that as a parent I was ashamed of. This is the part where my son needed me more than ever and I couldn’t be there. I mean physically I was there, but mentally and emotionally I was not. I spent the next few weeks in pain. Day after day I grieved. I grieved for the loss of my family. I grieved for the loss of my ability to trust. I grieved for my son who, just like me, would never know what it was like to have a mother and father who loved each other and couldn’t bear to be apart. I wanted so badly for him to witness that kind of love. I wanted it even more so for myself.
There was a night I’d stepped out of the shower. I’d wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the bathroom floor in defeat. It was all so hard and overwhelming. The more I thought about it, the more I wept. I must’ve been crying pretty loudly because I heard a knock on the bathroom door, as my son slowly opened it and peeked inside. He was four-years-old at the time. As I shooed him away in an effort to hide my tears he came closer, standing before me with his head cocked to the side. He stared into my swollen eyes and gently cupped my face between his tiny hands.
“Mommy, when are you going to smile again?”
It was then that I realized my son knew more than I ever imagined, without me ever saying a word. It was also at that moment that I promised myself to get up off the floor and to never allow myself to sit there for too long again.
My son needed me. I needed me. It was time to emancipate Mely.
From that night forward I’ve made every attempt to free myself from the past and become unapologetically me. I let go of the guilt and I let go of the blame. Every moment on I’ve lived my life to the fullest. I take chances. I dare to dream, and I live without regrets. I’ve made a million mistakes since, but with every mistake I come closer to finding myself.
So when you read my ridiculously raw and honest stories, wondering how a mother could say or do the things I do, this is why:
I never want my son to have to ask me when am I going to smile, again.
9 comments
2 pings
Stacy Dean says:
September 3, 2011 at 8:58 PM (UTC -4 )
One day I hope to write with this much honesty and brilliance. You. Are. Amazing.
Leila (Don't Speak Whinese) says:
September 3, 2011 at 9:08 PM (UTC -4 )
This was truly amazing. Many kudos to you for writing something so raw, honest and in many ways.. inspirational.
OhanaMama says:
September 3, 2011 at 9:19 PM (UTC -4 )
Holy ouch. The break-up story is so vivid and painful, my stomach aches.
But what you’ve made of it for yourself and your son makes my heart soar.
Good work, Mama. You can only be YOU, and you want your son to be able to be HIMSELF, too.
Rock on.
Carolyn (temysmom) says:
September 3, 2011 at 10:13 PM (UTC -4 )
I seriously could feel your pain. Sometimes we need to hit rock bottom for us to realize how strong we are. Just the fact you were willing to share such a personal experience shows how far you have come.
Spinsterlicious says:
September 3, 2011 at 11:28 PM (UTC -4 )
You should be proud of yourself for the way you’ve pushed thru
-The Spinsterlicious Life
Tania says:
September 4, 2011 at 10:01 AM (UTC -4 )
I am newly single after just leaving my daughters father. I’m still grieving and am overwhelmed with different emotions: sadness, guilt, anger loneliness, regret, pain, etc. When does it get better? Reading your words help a little to remind me I’m not alone & others have gone through similar situations and have made it out okay stronger
Mely says:
September 4, 2011 at 10:17 AM (UTC -4 )
Thanks for all of your comments!
Tania, I think the grieving process is different for everyone so it’s hard for me to say when it will get better for you. I’m not sure of your circumstances or how you came to be a single mom, but for me the minute I stopped feeling like a victim and took back control of my life was when things finally got better.
Regardless of how your single mom story began, you now have the power to write the rest of it. Believe in yourself and you can move mountains. Dream again. This is your second chance at doing all the things you wished you could. Most of all, forgive yourself. It is the only way you will ever be free.
XOXO
Corine says:
September 4, 2011 at 6:38 PM (UTC -4 )
Melysa you are one of the strongest people I know. This post was so heartfelt. Your son is a lucky boy to have such an honest, brilliant and strong mama like you. Youve come a long way for sure- and have so many more great things are on your horizon. Celebrate your singlemomaversery! & Happy Birthday to A! xo
Tony Timbol says:
November 30, 2011 at 8:24 PM (UTC -4 )
Incredible post full of courage and the indomitable human spirit. You son is blessed to have a mother such as you.
Single Mom Milestones » Sex, Lies & Bacon says:
March 10, 2012 at 2:06 PM (UTC -4 )
[...] a long strange trip it’s been from there to here. In the beginning, losing everything I had and everything I knew was devastating. Becoming a single mom seemed like the worst type of punishment [...]
The Woman I've Become » Sex, Lies & Bacon says:
March 11, 2012 at 12:55 PM (UTC -4 )
[...] I shed a few tears for a devastating heartbreak that has turned into incredible opportunities. [...]