This post has not been sponsored in any way.
Just over a year ago I snowshoed up a mountain.
In some ways, it was a triumph because I didn’t die and now I get to say things like “I snowshoed up a mountain”. In other ways, it was a really sobering experience. As soon as we started the ascent, it became painfully obvious that I had virtually no cardiovascular endurance. The lack of thigh muscles definitely made the trek upward more difficult than it needed to be, but the main issue was that I needed to stop every few minutes to catch my breath.
To put it bluntly, it was embarrassing.
So, it turns out they weren’t kidding. Divorce is incredibly stressful.
I think I have dealt with things fairly well. I have a really strong network of friends and family, it’s been really helpful having my sister so close to me to help with Olive, or give me a hug if I’m having a particularly rough day. I have seen counselors and talked through things and made really positive steps toward working through everything.
Despite all of that, a divorce is still a divorce. It is messy and unpleasant, and necessarily involves some level of conflict when two people who are hurt and wounded try to come together to sort out logistics. Often times there’s not a whole lot of trust left, so things just feel…confrontational. And I really don’t do well with confrontation.
And although I have felt like I am managing the stress well, my body has started telling a different story, and it has been telling it more and more loudly as times goes on.