The Only Life You Can Save

The Journey
Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

In some marriages, the discovery of infidelity is a kind of relief. I think it was for my mother - after 36 or so years together, she found out that my father had cheated on her their whole marriage. It allowed her to say, ok, I gave this marriage my best shot, it's not worth any more of my time.

In other marriages - like mine - the discovery of infidelity seems to leave nothing but bad choices. Everything was so wonderful! I don't want to divorce! He lied to me about something this important! I don't want to be married to someone capable of that!

When what you want is unclear, when you can't tell the little wants ("I don't want to be divorced." or "I don't want people to think I'm a doormat.") from the big wants ("I don't want to divorce him." or "I will not be a doormat."), there's a lot to be said for hunkering down, for extreme self-care, for focusing on the basics. Eating. Sleeping. Exercise. Therapy. Medication. If you're a parent, caring for your children (which also requires caring for yourself). So drink the protein shake even though you want to vomit, go for a walk even though you want to curl up and disappear, stop thinking about the other wo/man or how you want to die and instead concentrate on what you can still be thankful for.

Allow yourself to become comfortable with indecision. Because you've just gone through the worst. Because you're wondering if you've been manipulated, and gaslighted, and mindfucked for weeks, or months, or years. Because your core assumptions have been obliterated. Because your home is now unsafe. Because your closest friend suddenly seems like someone coldly unknown. Because you've just been traumatized.

So give yourself time. Concentrate on the next right thing. Listen to others, but listen to yourself more. And wait for the moment when you know what you have to do.

Then do it. Save the only life you can save - yours.