Exactly 3 years ago today I was huddled in a closet wondering why this wasn't a thing. Why more people didn't huddle in closets. That's where my sisters found me several hours after the fella ran away from home. He literally ran away from home, like a child, or a caged bird, or a 6' 3" doucheyishbag. (at the time I would have referred to him as a douchebag, but now ... meh ... whatever, doucheyish is fine) He tells people he's 6' 4" for some reason which is a lie, by the way. He's 6' 3". So, basically a munchkin pygmy.
He left, I broke down, and immediately made my closet floor my new best friend. I walked straight in there, shut the door and laid down for what I assumed would be the next 4 years or so. I should mention it isn't really a walk in closet, let alone a lay down closet. More the kind of closet you'd find in a house where you'd say "Oh my GOD, this is all the closet space there is??" and then you'd storm out of the open house and complain to your realtor.
My sisters got wind that after 11 years, the fella had gone on permanent walkabout so they rushed over to see if I was O.K. Me? O.K? Yup. I'm good. I'm in a closet. Why people reserved this sort of indulgence for natural disasters and World Wars was beyond me. Huddling in a closet was GREAT.
Thinking back on it I feel kind of bad for my sisters, opening the closet door to see me on the tile floor with the imprint of a knock-off Chanel bootie on my forehead.
For some reason this really alarmed them.
I'm not sure why because I know for a fact they both own closets and have both been in their own closets. I was just being in mine a little bit longer than normal. Plus I was on the ground. Plus the door was closed. Plus my hair was all crazy messy from rubbing against the sleeves of a velvet jacket I had in there. Also, I may have wrapped a tunic from the late 1990's around part of my head like a turban for some reason. I liked it in there. It was great. There was no sound and no light. My own private sensory deprivation chamber. Perfect. In 4 years time I'd reemerge, with luxuriously long hair, beautifully pale skin and no memory of whats-his-name.
I was really excited about this plan because for the life of me I couldn't see a single flaw with it.
So why they insisted I get out of the closet I still don't know. At first they tried to drag me out which I can tell you right now I was not impressed with. They weren't successful of course, because the piles of shoes surrounding me were acting like speed bumps plus my hair was a little bit velcroed to the velvet jacket. But they didn't give up. They really wanted me out. Suddenly laying in the closet with my tunic/turban amongst a pile of wire hangers with shoe prints on my face seemed almost humiliating. I mean, just moments before I was thinking I could maybe market my closet chamber, for long term financial gain if I could just get one of the Shark Tank people involved. And now my sisters were acting like it was crazy. Like I was crazy. They were getting seriously close to being on my doucheyishbag list.
Then the one sister yelled at the other sister for trying to drag me out of the closet and they started sort of windmill slapping at each other, at which point I burrowed deeper into the shoes.
I eventually came out just to shut them up. Plus my one sister had brought yogurt and honey because she figured I might need sustenance. Having your spouse up and leave without warning immediately makes people around you think you'll no longer be able to feed yourself beyond eating your own hair. So they bring food, the same way they would if there was a death in the family. It was a sudden and surprising "death" at that by the way. Where you have no warning and aren't expecting to be hurt at all. Like a heart attack, or being trampled to death by a herd of kittens.
I was out of the closet, I ate yogurt and honey, and I reluctantly took my super-cool, protective turban off. They still weren't happy. They wouldn't leave. I asked them to please leave. I begged them to leave. I just wanted to be alone with my shoes, my snotty face and my super-plausible Shark Tank fantasy. I guess they thought GO AWAY was "just-been-dumped code" for please don't leave, because instead of packing up their stuff and heading out the door they started cleaning my house. Everything. All of it. Like Molly Maids with a never-ending supply of tee shirt rags, wood polish and cocaine.
My sensory deprivation chamber was now replaced with the sound of ripping paper towels and my one sister screaming at the fella on the phone from downstairs. Which I liked of course. She was giving him shit. His life would be shit, he treated me like shit, he was just a big pile of 6'3" shit. That part was awesome.
But once she was done yelling at him, it was back to the sounds of the Windex bottle and squeaking on glass. I was up in my bedroom, wondering how to spin the phrase "My sisters are cleaning my house against my will." into "I think I'm the victim of a very dangerous home invasion, OMG ARE THOSE GUNSHOTS?!!!" for the fine folks at 911, when I heard nothing. Silence.
They were gone.
WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Nope. No they weren't. They were just looking for the vacuum. I hated my sisters and wished them ill.
Of course now, 3 years later I know they were just worried about me and wanted to make sure I was O.K. I mean they went about it in completely the wrong way. What they should have done was taken one look at my awesome closet sensory/deprivation chamber, called a patent lawyer and secured a really cool domain name. I'd make millions, get a genuinely 6'4" French boyfriend who, in some type of heroic act had tragically lost all appendages that would allow him to ever run away and I would live happilyish ever after. But they didn't. They dragged and cooked and cleaned with all those squeezy bottles under my sink which I now realize I should have re-labelled when I refilled them all with plant fungus killer 2 years earlier.
Like it wasn't enough I'd been dumped, now if I died of a broken heart in my sleep no one would be saying "Oh how tragic, what a love story, look how beautiful she looks even with a flip flop on her head". They'd say, "Geez, no wonder he left. Have you see how smudgy her windows are?" The best I could hope for was that someone would notice there was no fungus on them.
So to everyone who has gone through, is going through, might go through a major breakup. Don't worry. In a few years, probably even less, you too will come out of the closet completely and totally gay (as in happy).
Honestly. You'll be happy. Probably even happier than before.
I for one can tell you with all honestly that I'm 100% happier than a pygmy in shit.
Debra
Karen-
I remember the morning I read your post 3 yrs ago. My heart broke for you. I loved your honesty and was proud of you for recognizing you needed some time to take care of you. Throughout the past couple years, I secretly cheered for you every time there was a slight mention of him. Ok, I giggled because you were able to make us laugh through your healing.
Fast forward to today. I am 2 months out from my husband abruptly leaving our home to move in with another woman. Thank you for the reminder that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Life is messy (and so are my windows) but I also know I will be just fine...and even better without that "asshead" in my life.
Love you Karen! So happy you are doing so well and having all the success you deserve!!
Karen
Debra! I'm so sorry that you're in the thick of it right now, but you'll be amazed at how much better it gets! I also made a pretty conscious decision to not wallow and fester. That helps too. :) Good luck and kick ass. ~ karen!
WoniyaWaken
Hi Karen, I'm a relatively new reader. I found your blog when searching for a how to on building a mud oven..(I like your saw horse idea...) something I'm intending to do on my own this summer. I too had your experience of Man Who Runs After Many Years. Mine took off without warning, and I mean ZERO warning last summer. He left in July, and I've not heard a peep from him, not a sound. It IS like a death. I've had the closet/sock head year, and although I do still miss him sorry ass, I do not miss the rest of it any longer. Can't imagine myself yet with another man, but hoping it'll happen. I'm sure he's off with some younger little vixen now. But she isn't getting an updated version. He's still him. He runs. He'll run again. And like a bad penny, he'll turn to another younger woman...and blame the last one for all his shortcomings.
Anyway, wanted to say thank you for your posts and your instructions on the mud oven. We were supposed to build one last summer, he promised. Screw that, man, I'm making my own THIS summer. He'll miss some damned fine pizza. His loss. On many levels.
Christy
I too, have 2 sisters and I would pay to see them slapping at each other windmill style.
Glad you made it. Greg Berhendt's "It's Called a Break-up Because It's Broken" saved me. But I guess that tip is 3 years too late.
I think you are awesome.
Christy :)
SusanR
It has been amazing to see how you weathered this storm in your life, and what a great example you became for the women and men who read your blog. Please consider doing a line of greeting cards for women. Your drawing above might be the first one. You have wisdom and comfort to impart, and women seeking wisdom and comfort waiting for it. It would also be a nice source of income.
janpartist
Well, I don't know if this will help anyone else or not but I after 2 kids and being married for 22 yrs I got left for a younger woman. You know, I am convinced that one of the reasons people get so bitter is because they have love left to express and aren't able to do it. Love is not a light switch, if you still love them and you miss their presence, say it,. Say it to anyone and everyone. That's not to say that it wasn't a really good thing that he's gone and you are so glad he got someone new to take care of his ass but in your heart there is still love. And, we had a little money and I left a lot on the table and he went on to live lavishly etc but, I have no regrets. He's dead now. And, I was nice and I'm glad I was. I remarried a long time ago and am content as an old cow but I'll die with love in my heart for him even though it was all a blessing.
Cindy
F©ck him.
Debbie
May you only have joy in your life and may it come from within with support from your family, friends and those of us who love what you do.
loner
fuck him its his lost let that shit head go. young lady you will have all the men lined up at your front wanting some one like you in there like. you my dear are a prize for any man. loner
Karen
LOL. Thanks loner. But don't need or want a line up. I'm perfectly happy with things as they are. :) ~ karen!
Martha
Years ago I went to a stand up show (Sandra Shamas) who did a routine about buying a house in Toronto with her husband and how expensive it was, etc in the early 90s. Several years later I went to see her again and her husband had left her and the routine was about the breakup. She summed it up perfectly when she said:
"No matter what relationship you have with someone, best friend, sister, acquaintance - when someone gets hurt the call goes out. "One of us is down!" And all the women come. They come in mini vans and economy cars. And they bring casseroles and cake. And while you're having your break down they sit around your kitchen telling each other to finish the last piece of cake. "I can't eat another bite......but I'll split it with you...."
She was hilarious. To this day my mother and I quote her when the occasion arises - One of us is down! I'm so glad you have sisters.
Great success story Karen. I brag about you in my comments on other (American) blogs ;-)
From a fellow closet appreciator.
Karen
Love it. ~ karen!
karen
Is being under the blankets like being in the closet? I feel your pain girl. Mine is still fresh and hurting but I'm hoping that won't be forever. I love love love your blog! You have a gift girl, don't ever forget that you are fantastic.
Karen
Thanks Karen! You'll feel like hell for a while. Which is fine. You need to feel like hell in order to feel better. Which you will. :) ~ karen!
Rita
Oh Karen! I totally relate. I had a choice of the "under the stairs" where we kept the wine and baked beans or a little wardrobe full of flip flops and wire hangers. With reflection "under the stairs" would have been the best place. With a cork screw.
I came through the other side with a shiny new man who knocks the spots off my 1st spouse. I realise my 19 years of 1st marriage won't be a patch on my 2nd. I now know douchiness when I see it.
(((hugs))) To you lovely lady and your fab sisters xxx
Karen
Thanks Rita. Glad you made it through! ~ karen
Phylicia Mann
I am new to your blog so I was surprised to read that a fella would just up and leave you like that.
I was even more surprised to discover the healing benefits of a closet...and randomly placed flip flop. Being the keeper of a great many personal sorrows, I can honestly say I have never tried to find my solice there., but knowing life as I do, I can honestly say that I will surely give this method a try!
If it at all makes a difference, you posess a talent for humorous writing that few have, not to mention your talent for tackling projects that would make the eyes of many roll back in their heads.
You inspire and enlighten and cause laughter to many!
Karen
Thanks Phylicia! Yup, good old closet therapy. It's similar to meditation but faster. :) ~ karen!
Barbie
I too remember reading about it that day.....felt so helpless and sad for you...made me cry for your pain. So many of us have been in your shoes in one way or another. Loss is devastating but God makes beauty from ashes, rebuilds restores, refreshes and makes all things new..........if we let him. I am so happy for you Karen for taking the attitude you have...your a good woman.
PS: I loved the Velveteen Rabbit quote....so fitting
Audrey
Do you still have all those flip flops? You probably don't even look in your closet anymore. Glad you're happy, everyone deserves that.
Barbarella
Karen, bless your heart for sharing your closet trauma/personal heartache saga. You are an inspiration to all gals - to be their best and work through the dung we may encounter along the way! Delighted for you, that you're better than ever. It was lovely to hear how your sweet and super clean sisters pitched in to support you. Girl power at it's best. Thanks for inspiring us, during good times and rough patches too!!!
Liz
wood polish and cocaine! LOL! Your artwork needs complimenting, I can tell you worked hard on it :) and your cartoon self is adorable... you look like one of the cutie characters from the Puffs commercials. Happylyish 3rd anniversary. Traditionally you should get a present of leather, crystal or glass, so get something awesome!
Karen
Why thank you Liz. It was a last minute addition to the post when I realized I didn't have any *actual* photos of me hiding in a closet having a nervous breakdown. :) ~ karen!
mophead
My douchebag left 4 years ago, but only because I let him live. I didn't so much have family come by to console me, but to see what good shit he left behind that was up for grabs. LOL Honestly thought, the family was helpful and really drilled the "f*ck him!" into my head. Then I started dating his best friend, but he was even worse.
I've figured out, that thanks to womens' how-to blogs and YouTube, I don't need a man for anything...and I'm genuinely happy.
Thanks for sharing your story, Karen.
Karen
Oh CRIPES, no you don't need a man in your life. It's great to share things with someone and spend your life together but there are a lot of great things to be said for doing it all on your own. When you want. Where you want. ~ karen!
Jess
Good Lord- it's been 3 years? I had only been reading your blog for about 6 mos. when douchiebag left. But I remember. - J
Mary Edmondson
Now we need a new drawing of happy recovered Karen, no longer in the closet.
Jasmine
There's one thing that no one has mentioned...there could have been SPIDERS in the closet!! If you don't know they are there, then fine, but if you are hanging out sitting with them, wrapping them around your head...!!! That would have sent me over the edge.
I remember your painful post, I wanted to hug you so much. I am so happy that you are happy now.