...at the very least he almost destroyed my marriage. Or perhaps I should blame Stephanie Meyer. Either way, one of the two made me wish I had married a vampire. I'm not interested in being indestructible or living forever, but the adoration that never leaves, well, let's just say that Robbie played that part up a little too well for my liking. As I watched his complete devotion to his Bella, I used to think that I got the bum end of the deal. I thought about it too much and eventually ended up in the psych ward because I lost my perception of reality. I started to resent David for not letting his life gravitate around mine, that my life wasn't the pole that his life spun around. Let's get real...David is never going to adore me for life. The cutsey newlywed stage left years ago and now we've settled in the "we're approaching middle age and have been together so long that we know each other's idiosyncrasies." Robbie never did that. Bella is a lucky girl.
Approaching middle age is kind of weird. In your head you're the same person you were in say, high school, but your body says either wise. I personally gained eighty pounds from my 18 year old self. I blame it on my second child because of his birth weight but the truth is that I just like food. Somewhere around 26, my thyroid decided it hated me and it jumped on a train with my metabolism. Eating the same foods that I could previously eat made me approach a number twice the size of my high school self. The self hatred began. Then came the psych medications, which helped skyrocket my weight even more. I was a mess. No one told me that pysch meds would make me gain weight because of the carb cravings. I just took them like I was told.
My health changed. I couldn't run anymore because I developed asthma. Who develops asthma so late in their life? Oh, that's right? Me. I win when it comes to all things detrimental to my health and well-being.
I got cancer. Those words are scary enough even if the survival rate for your particular type is high. Cancer is cruel, but under the age of 30, brutal.
What most people don't know is that the cancer left me a shell. I gave up religion and started to drink. I couldn't understand how a loving God could make a person go through so much. Physical pain is something that I would never wish on my worst enemy, and the mental pain that I was experiencing, well, that was enough to put me away for a few days. I finally gave up drinking when I almost died. Alcohol poisoning is no joke. I blew a 3.6 when I was sober enough to even take a breathalyzer. I was 4 1/2 times over the legal driving limit, and very lucky that my liver was functioning because with the Percocet that I had taken, I shouldn't be here. Then I realized that God really must be looking out for me.
In a novel I started reading recently, I came across a passage and it struck me. It felt like it was written for me, and for me alone. It reads, "God does not make the way smooth for those He loves. He sends hardships to try them. Those that God loves best are those that suffer the worst." (The Constant Princess, Phillippa Gregory).
God must really love me, I think.