Sunday Sit-Down: "Mama's Broken Heart"

Hello beautiful people, and welcome to this week's Sunday Sit-Down! If you're a regular to this series, you know this is my absolute favorite blog day. I have enjoyed everything I have written and uploaded for my blog, but something about breaking down and talking about songs in my life just lifts me and gets me ready for the week ahead. 

This week, I went in a bit of a different direction than I had previously. My first song breakdown, "Too Good at Goodbyes" by Sam Smith, dealt with me taking a stand in my personal life and deciding I was no longer allowing John back into my life. It wasn't that John was there asking to come back, it was more of a mental block for me. I needed to love myself enough to not allow my heart to be in that position again. 

My second entry, "Then" by Anne-Marie, was all about my reflection on how available I was in a relationship that just didn't work. It was also a reflection on how I was fully involved with someone who couldn't be fully involved with anyone other than himself. I saw, finally, that perfection in it's truest form doesn't hold hands with misery. I sacrificed a lot to be in my marriage, and in the end it wasn't enough. I learned a lesson through it, and I know now what to avoid in future relationships. 

This week, I chose to look at "Mama's Broken Heart" by Miranda Lambert. I have been a Miranda Lambert fan for as long as I can remember. As I grew to know her more, I grew to love her more as well. She is sassy, blunt, relatable, and she loves animals. The last one doesn't have a lot to do with her music, but I love animals, too, so it meant something to me. 

Before I get this started, I want to be very clear that I am blessed with the most amazing mother in the world. If you are reading this and you know my mom, you're probably shaking your head "yes" and smiling at the thought of her. I am constantly hearing how amazing my mom has been to people because she is truly a remarkable woman. 

My point is, my mom has been supporting me through this entire life-changing event. She has not lectured me (too much anyways), she has not judged, and she has not attempted to take control. She has helped me when and if I need it, and that is truly the biggest blessing she could have given me through all of this. I am grateful. 

With that being said, my mom and I are very different in our dramatics and personalities. I have seen that very clearly in the way I carry myself and she sometimes shakes her head just a tiny bit. I love that we have differences but we are still best friends. It's one of my favorite things about us. We balance each other out and help each other grow. This song captures that sort of mindset, and I have stories that go along with certain lyrics.. Yes, you're going to want to stick around for those and be prepared to laugh a time or two... I really am very dramatic sometimes.

I cut my bangs with some rusty kitchen scissors
I screamed his name ‘til the neighbors called the cops
I numbed the pain at the expense of my liver
Don’t know what I did next, all I know I couldn’t stop

When I read the first verse, I could visually see myself in my bathroom, completely un-sober, attempting to dye my hair by myself. It was a train wreck. I am not sure why I chose that exact moment to give it a go. I was alone, and I knew how bad I was at dying my own hair. 

There was a voice inside me, deep down, saying, "You are a strong, independent woman." Honestly, that was probably my mom's voice. She was always good at teaching me I needed to be able to fend for myself. She probably didn't mean with a bottle of blue hair dye, half naked in my tiny bathroom. I didn't cut my bangs with rusty scissors, but I did end up with sea green locks. My fella told me it was hot, so I really couldn't complain. We will try for blue again soon. 

Leia, my dog, also somehow ended up slightly blue.. 

As for screaming his name until the neighbors called the cops? My neighbors are actually super great about keeping to themselves. We respect each other's privacy, but they're always there to help when we need it as well. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I screamed, cussed, bawled, hyperventilated, screamed some more, and I only emerged looking like I hadn't showered in weeks so that I could get the mail. This was all before the green hair, of course. This was the weeks toward the beginning of my split. 

If my neighbors had looked through my windows, they would've seen me crying while cleaning up my new puppy's messes. They would've seen me screaming because my puppy got a chunk of my teddy bear made from my grandma's shirt... She has done that twice now. (The second time= RIP Grandma Bear.) They would've seen me hiding in the kitchen to cry while my kids were upstairs just so they wouldn't see me. 

The day after the split first happened, they would've seen me sobbing in the living room floor because I couldn't get the pellet stove to light and I tried to call John at work for help. He didn't say "I love you, too" when we hung up, and I thought my life was over. I always think my life is over... I am funny that way. 

Word got around to the barflies and the baptists
My mama’s phone started ringin’ off the hook
I can hear her now sayin’ she ain’t gonna have it
Don’t matter how you feel, it only matters how you look

If I am completely honest, I couldn't possibly tell you how many times my mom, sisters, brothers, or kids would tell me how someone checked on me when they saw them out and about. Rarely did anyone actually speak with me to ask about how I was doing, although God bless ya'll that did. 

In fact, for a while my two oldest sisters- the Tiffany's- took turns "taking care" of me. I had this deep need to never be alone. It ate at me to sit with my own thoughts. If I was left alone, I would go through the "what if's" on repeat and be fully convinced I was a terrible person. I was my own worst enemy. 

To you, it may not seem as humorous to think my sisters basically covered a shift, went home, slept, did their day job, and then came back for another Britiany shift. In my mind, I imagine a tag team match on WWE. The Tiffany's are in one corner facing Britiany's Depression and Anxiety in the other corner. Who would win? Only time could tell! We laugh and joke about it now, and that's all that really matters, right? 

One thing I found to be true time and time again is, "Don't matter how you feel, it only matters how you look." I would go to church, the store, or even a family event and what people focused on was how I looked. It was like the pain I was going through drifted away and everyone was more concerned with how I carried myself. If I looked good, they felt comfortable around me, and they forgot I was battling a mental illness and my life being flipped upside down. 

Go and fix your make up, girl, it’s just a break up
Run and hide your crazy and start actin’ like a lady
'Cause I raised you better, gotta keep it together
Even when you fall apart
But this ain’t my mama’s broken heart

I remember not even wearing makeup for the longest time after all this happened. There was time, too close to the beginning, that I truly believed I was ready to date. I remember talking to a guy- who I realize now I have nothing in common with- and getting my makeup done only to watch it bleed off my face after having another anxiety attack. I remember crying to my mom on the phone, hyperventilating and slowing down because that guy gave me a compliment via a text. I was a hot freaking mess, guys and gals! 

My favorite part of the chorus? "Run and hide your crazy and start actin' like a lady." 

By far the most comical and important conversation of condolences I had after the separation went public came from my old youth leader. As Christians, we try to fit in a certain mold. We try to mourn daintily. We try to be sure those around us don't see us at our weakest. I've never been good at that goal, though. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I have a temper, a tantrum, and tears aplenty! 

I had taken the youth kids to their December rally in Summersville. I finally told my old youth leader what I was going through. I expected some of what came next. She reassured me that God had perfect timing, He was always there for me, and He loved me. I had no doubt that was all true. She then went on to say, "Anytime you need to come to my house and vent, you come. If you need to cry, we will cry. If you need to scream, we will scream. If you need to cuss, we will cuss." 

It was hilarious to me to imagine a time I would hang out with Megs and cuss out my anger and frustration. But there is an important lesson I learned through that. My pain isn't a weakness; it is a part of living and growing. How I deal with it isn't based on what others tell me to do; it is based solely on what I need to do to find that happiness in the end. I was truly blessed to hear such a funny remark from someone I love so much. 

Most importantly, the chorus talks about how each heart breaks differently. I was constantly trying to compare my marriage, my heartache, and my recovery time with everyone else. I learned it just does not work like that. When you experience pain, emotionally or physically, your body recovers in the best way it can. Sometimes it takes days, weeks, months, or years. 

I read a statistic, pre-separation, that said you recover from a relationship in half the length of it's entirety. I imagined how it would take me 3.5 years to get over John if we split, and I imagined how difficult that would be. But here I am, in a shorter time period, feeling much better than I ever expected. I had no way of predicting how I would get through a mourning period, and no one can tell me the right or wrong way to go about it. 

Wish I could be just a little less dramatic
Like a Kennedy when Camelot went down in flames
Leave it to me to be holdin’ the matches
When the fire trucks show up and there’s nobody else to blame

Can’t get revenge and keep a spotless reputation
Sometimes revenge is a choice you gotta make
My mama came from a softer generation
Where you get a grip and bite your lip just to save a little face

I am grouping two verses together here, which I normally don't do. But, I really feel like these go hand-in-hand. 

This is by far the most dramatic and funniest story in this post. When I imagine being caught red handed and knowing I was overly dramatic about something that wasn't my business, I see the very first time I found out John was talking to another woman after we separated. 

It was a chilly night, and John had gotten stuck up a back road in the mud.. drunk. We went to his rescue. Yes, even though he had technically left me. He was still living at our house in the living room at this point. It was just the best option. We finally got him pulled out, and I had the bright idea to do anything I could to get him to spend alone time with me. 

"You never ask me to go drink and back road with you," I said in the coyest way possible. It was almost shocking to hear it come out of my mouth. We ended up drinking together, and I ended up hurt and running away in the middle of nowhere. I was storming down the main road, arm extended with phone in hand attempting to get service and call my sister. I was a picture of sophisticated grace, I'm sure. 

Later, we ended up back in his truck after I decided I just couldn't give up that easily. I asked if he was talking to a woman I had seen him interacting with on Facebook. At first, bless his heart, he had tried to deny it. He didn't realize women are a stronger force than the FBI when it comes to stuff like that. I already knew every detail I needed to about her. Finally, he admitted to it and I broke. A lot of very dramatic things happened that night, and now is not the time for all the details. 

What I do want to mention is a drunk Britiany Facebook messaging the new woman a very simple, mature message... The middle finger emoji. She got the point. 

There was no getting around that. I dug my hole. I lit the fire, and I was holding the matches. Red-handed. Turns out, we got along great and she was extremely respectful and supportive of me trying to save my marriage. I stay out of the situation now, so I truly don't know their relationship status. It's just better in the long run. I apologized profusely, by the way. 

Powder your nose, paint your toes
Line your lips and keep 'em closed
Cross your legs, dot your eyes
And never let 'em see you cry

I love this bridge so much. Just like with anything life changing, I got unsolicited advice all through my separation. I was told not to let him get by with this crap- their words not mine. I was told to stand by my man and love him through the hard times (ha!). I was told to seek help from a councilor as a couple- it takes two for that kind of commitment! I was told he was crazy and I was amazing (that may be very true, who knows). I was told I was awful to him too much, and that's what pushed him away. I was told my pain was the exact same as someone else's and I would be perfectly okay. I was told I married too young anyways. The list goes on and on and on... 

I was told it was too early to date. I was told when I needed to "make him jealous". I was told I was sexualizing men I saw too much because I started noticing attractive men and saying something about it. I was told I needed to wait until the divorce papers were finalized to see anyone else.  

Honestly, I was told just about everything you could think. I was being pulled and pushed in every direction. Finally, I decided the only one who could really direct me to what would make me happy was myself. I needed to finally be the one in control of my own life. 

My therapist told me once, "One hour at a time. You know, sometimes that's just how we have to live." I have stuck to that motto ever since he told me that in my second session. It has gotten me this far, and it will carry me through life. I will do what makes me happy now, as long as it hurts no one around me, and I will keep at it one hour at a time until I can't anymore. I will choose happiness. How I do that and the choices I make are nobody's business but my own. 

What do you think of my interpretation of this song? I would love to hear your thoughts below or on Facebook! Do you have a funny post-breakup story? Are you a little dramatic in these situations? I want to hear all about it!