BEHIND THE SCENES
  • Home
  • Blog
  • TV Life
  • Connect

kelli stopczynski
mom. runner. real talk queen. 

Pain, Progress & Reality

10/8/2017

19 Comments

 
I sit down to write and the words won’t form. That’s foreign to me. I can always write. About my life. About someone else’s. About work. My kids. Anything. It’s my escape and coping mechanism. But for the past few months, I get a few sentences or paragraphs in and I go blank. I can’t finish what I so desperately need to get out.

It’s been a similar situation at work. I stare at my to-do list and find I’m unable to do anything for longer than a few minutes or, if I’m lucky, a whole hour before I crack. Before I close my office door and cry. Because facing anyone or trying to explain the situation isn’t worth their awkward reaction. It’s not worth making them feel bad because they don’t know what to say. And, quite frankly, it’s none of their business.

So then I try to run it out. As if I could outrun the reality that’s chased and haunted me for the past year and a half of my life. The night I broke the news to my parents, my Dad said, ‘You know, all this time I kind of wondered what or who you were running away from.’

Wait, what? You mean it’s not normal to suddenly take up running and – in the span of 18 months – complete four half marathons, four 10K races and three 5Ks, all while logging dozens of miles in training runs each month? But even that caught up with me. Call it burnout. Lack of energy. Emotional and physical drain. Whatever it is, I reached a point where I barely have the motivation to run at all these days. So I lace up my shoes, put in my headphones and then halfway through what should be six or eight miles, I stop. I give up. Because all I have the energy to do right now is walk.  And I’m strangely OK with that.

I don’t return texts or phone calls or Facebook messages from friends in a timely fashion. If at all.

I don’t have the brain power to read through all the paperwork my 5-year-old brings home from school.

I do the basics and hope my kids won’t ever realize or remember how much of a mess I am right now.

Numb from pain and exhaustion. Paralyzed by emotions I finally forced myself to face. Scared by the silence of my new reality.

Divorced.
33 years old.
3 perfect, beautiful kids.

Chew on that for a second.  

Divorce. I could stare at that word for hours and still not grasp what it’s done to my soul or how it turned my world into a tornado of feelings I struggle to comprehend.

When they find out, so many of our friends and family members want to know why. What happened? Who did what? Who’s to blame? Do I think I gave it all I had? The answers to all those questions are deeply personal and, for the most part, off limits. At least for me.

The man who was my husband for 8 years, 1 month and 5 days will tell you I’m “a tough case to crack,” because I don’t easily open up about what’s deep inside my heart. Sure, I’ll talk. I’ll give the surface rundown and keep repeating the same superficial, couched response that gets the point across.

It’s a long story, I’ll tell you when you’re older.

No, we don’t hate each other.

Yes, we’re on decent terms.

The kids are actually doing well. That’s what’s most important.

The most common reaction from people when they find out? “I’m sorry.”

And that one kills me. I’ve already heard it so many times. I know they don’t know what to say and sorry is the natural, awkward response. But I just want to look at them and ask, “Could you not be?”

Toward the beginning of the process, a close friend told me this would show who my real friends are. At first, I didn’t know what that meant. But now? If that ain’t the damn truth, I’m not sure what is.

I knew certain people had heard about what’s going on, and when they didn’t come to me – even with a Facebook message or an invitation to meet for coffee – it stung.

I guess I never really knew how much of an impact a simple text, email or phone call could have on someone going through this situation. I do now, though.

I know the value in having a friend ask, ‘Can I take your kids for a couple hours today? I know you need a little space to think and get things done.’

Or, ‘Can I bring you guys dinner tomorrow?’

Or, ‘I’m here. Whatever. Whenever. Wherever.’

Or, ‘Look, you don’t even need to respond, but I heard this was going on, I don’t know what to say other than you’re incredibly strong and loved more than you even know.’

We had a few (I can count them on one hand) neighbors and friends who did that. I’ll never be able to articulate a proper thank you to those people who just seemed to know what I needed on a particular day or time. Even if I never responded to their outreach.

As I sit in the quiet of the beginning of my new life – in transition between where I’ve been and where I’m going – I noticed the other night that I’m finally able to exhale. It sounds strange but for me, that’s progress.  

During one of THREE mandatory parenting classes we attended during the divorce process, the instructor told us all to go home and find a box. She told us to fill that box with our anger, resentment, bad memories and any other negative thoughts or feelings about the person we were divorcing.  

“Now I want you to find the most beautiful ribbon you’ve ever seen and tie up that box into the most gorgeous bow you’ve ever tied,” she continued, her voice growing soft. “And then, I want you to give that box back to the person you were married to. Give them back everything you’ve been holding onto for so long. Because you don’t need it. And if you’re ever going to move forward, you have to let all of that go.”

I felt my face grow hot as tears filled my eyes and ultimately spilled down my cheeks. That was the moment I realized I needed one Big. Ass. Box. And here’s the thing – filling it up is still a work in progress. Some days I throw in a bunch of shit just to drag it all out again. I never imagined how difficult it would be to truly let go of the negativity.

But I know l’ll get there. I’ll make peace with the past and be open to a future of happiness for my kids, myself and yes – the father of my children. They deserve it. I deserve it. And we’re all going to be OK.    
Picture
19 Comments
Diane Choate
10/9/2017 10:24:13 am

Kelli AND Justin, I am sending hugs to you both, and wishes that whatever trail(s) you take, that you both end up happy, and friends for life. Your children will be looking to you both for guidance. I know that you both are great parents and everything is going to work out in the end.

Reply
Helen Dulle
10/9/2017 05:41:15 pm

Kelly--herb & I love you. Always have, always will.

Reply
Bekki
10/9/2017 05:53:06 pm

Daaaaaaang chica! I'm thinking we are overdue for catching up!❤️ hugs!

Reply
Mary Ellen Shedron
10/9/2017 05:55:51 pm

Prayers and love are yours always, Kelli-friend. 💜

Reply
Kelly
10/9/2017 06:13:04 pm

Keep the faith and stay strong. Strength comes in many forms. Does this mean you get to have a Goddess party?!

Reply
Lisa Banasiewicz-Cook
10/9/2017 06:21:50 pm

Kelli, sending prayers to you and your family. I've been in your shoes; it's tough, it sucks, but it will get better.....I promise. Wishing you the very best.

Reply
Greta
10/9/2017 06:30:58 pm

❤️❤️❤️to all of you at this time

Reply
Kathy Friend
10/9/2017 06:43:23 pm

Sitting here wondering if you might be the only person that maybe, kinda gets (one of the reasons) why I had to move from home 6 years ago. Feeling all of the feelings with ya on this...hating the awkward head tilt that comes with "how are ya doing". As cliche as it is, it does get better. Easier. You "new normal" (hate that cliche too) just becomes every day. But, it sucks. And people are gossip lovers. And at the end of the day somehow we have to put on a happy face and deal with dinner and homework and laundry. And I promise - it'll all be ok. Maybe not perfect, but ok.

Reply
Jillian
10/9/2017 07:13:55 pm

This is incredibly brave and honest, Kelli! I know your candor will be so helpful for so many people out there. I'm thinking of you, the kids and Justin. If you ever need a place to crash in Chicago or you're just looking for a recommendation for a good girls night in the city, don't hesitate to message me!!

Reply
Marge
10/9/2017 07:48:19 pm

Love to you and your family. Praying for everyone involved.

Reply
Sonia
10/9/2017 09:19:15 pm

Honesty like this deserves a lot of credit! Thank you for sharing- you’ll inspire other women to stop running and realize that walking is ok too!

Reply
Bryan Miller
10/9/2017 09:22:17 pm

You ARE strong and you WILL be ok. You deserve all the happiness this world has to offer. It's not the fairy tale you imagined as a little girl, but when the smoke clears, you smile with light up rooms again and your beautiful children will know what it is to see their mom happy. Full of life and ready to take on the world. Keep getting back up. No matter what. Keep getting back up. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for putting your heart out there for the world to see.

Reply
Esther Matteson
10/9/2017 10:11:25 pm

I am truly stunned...and so sad for you, Kelli.There aren't many words...you've already heard most of them anyway. You will be much in my thoughts and in my prayers.

Reply
CarolAnn and Jerry
10/9/2017 10:33:44 pm

Sending you tremendously ginormous amounts of hugs and love and prayers!

Reply
Bill Wargo
10/9/2017 10:49:32 pm

(AZ) Hug from Arizona.

Reply
John Snyder
10/10/2017 02:38:09 pm

Kelli and Justin, this is the first word I've heard. You all will be in my prayers. My wishes for the very best for you.

Reply
jennifer bentley
10/10/2017 05:06:50 pm

oh Kelli. I had no idea. even as a ‘virtual’ friend, I am here...to care, to hug, to listen. ❤️

Reply
Traci
10/11/2017 09:15:56 am

Kelly, there are no words. While I don't know you well, you inspire me and I'd like to get to know you better. You are so strong. And I believe you sharing your heart will mean so much to many. You are one very gifted writer who seriously takes people on a journey and the range of emotions through your words. Your blog touched me. Thinking of all of you and sending positive vibes and prayers for your peace.

Reply
Nancy
10/13/2017 10:13:07 am

I have to say, I was not aware of this. Even though we've only met once, you seem to be a really put-together person to me. So take that as a compliment. We don't have to wear our trials on the outside, thank goodness. I've been through the divorce thing and, at the time, I'll admit I felt very much like a failure. However, it turns out to be a very good thing as I've met and remarried someone that is, hands down, the most wonderful man I could have asked for. As they say - If God gives you more than you can stand, kneel. Keep the faith my friend. He has a plan for you!

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Picture

    Author

    I'm a mom to 3 beautiful, spirited, tiny humans, I'm addicted to running + barre, I have no filter & I work full time in the corporate world. But behind the scenes of all that is where it really gets interesting...

    RSS Feed

    Archives

    March 2020
    December 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    November 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    February 2018
    December 2017
    October 2017
    June 2017
    April 2017
    February 2017
    October 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    March 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015

    Categories

    All
    Activities With Kids
    Fitness & Weight Loss
    Marriage
    #momlife
    Parenting
    Running
    Working Woman

    RSS Feed

  • Home
  • Blog
  • TV Life
  • Connect