Cautious Optimism

I got a text at work from T on Thursday morning, "I'm supposed to sign my lease today after work". He takes possession of the apartment on Monday.

I knew from the "supposed to" that something was up. Otherwise he would have said, "I'm going to".

I had about five minutes between a meeting and my next class so I called him. I asked him if he texted just to let me know he wouldn't be home right after work. He said yes, and laughingly said, "Also so you could beg me to stay and tell me you can't live with out me". I told him I didn't necessarily want to live without him, but I certainly could. I said if he had doubts about signing a 6 month lease, he probably shouldn't. There are other options. Maybe stay with a relative or friend for a little while so we can figure everything out.

I got home from work, took the kids to the gym, and when we got back, T was home and had been looking at apartment floor plans on the computer. I figured he'd made his decision. I was more or less resolved, after a week and a half of reality setting in, that this separation would be hard, would with 90% likelihood end my marriage, and that was extremely sad, but I had a sense of relief and hope that moving forward would bring peace and eventual happiness.

Then, T asked to talk to me away from the kids. "I don't want to leave", he said.

I asked him to stop drinking for a while and get some therapy. He agreed to the therapy, but not to stop drinking. This made me very nervous.

He seemed visibly upset by the idea that he might have to choose between his family and his drug. I asked him blatantly, "If we stay together, and you don't stop drinking, what would be different"? He said he intended to treat me better.

A long conversation short, he said a lot of things I'd wanted to hear for a long time. He apologized. He admitted that he'd spend his time and effort thinking about what a different life would be like, what a different woman would be like, so much that he didn't put effort into the marriage he already had. He said he was sorry he had taken me for granted. He actually said the words, "I've been a fool". He said he didn't need to separate and date other women to discover he loved me and wanted to be with me, the reality of moving that direction helped him realize. He also finally admitted that saying you are trying to work on your marriage while also being open to dating other people actually made no sense at all. Thank-you!

I don't know what I felt. I was confused. I had honestly prepared my heart and mind to move on. Then, now, he's asking me to take a big risk. He wants me to risk possibly going back to how everything has been, and having to make these same hard choices all over again. But then he said, "what is there to lose by trying for another 4 months and then making a decision in the summer?" He was right. I didn't really have much to lose. I know I can move on if necessary, and I would probably also always questions and wonder and possibly regret if I didn't give "us" another chance. If I didn't give my family, my children, the chance to stay together.

Still, I was and am nervous. I don't know if things can really change as long as we are essentially doing the same things. He needs to be different and I need to be different. Part of me feels like I may have prevented T from a chance to "hit a rock bottom" and figure out for himself that his happiness is entirely within his control. Maybe I'm just prolonging the inevitable and really confusing my kids.

But.

But, I can't push aside the hope. I can't ignore the possibility that just MAYBE we can figure this out together. Just maybe we can be happy and healthy together.

T committed to drinking less, though won't give it up, and see a few posts back to see how well he sticks to these commitments. That made me feel extremely uneasy. But, my mom pointed out when I discussed my concerns with her, he's being honest. T didn't tell me "what I wanted to hear". He could have easily lied and gone back on his word. He easily could have agreed to something he knew he wouldn't do, and continued to try and hide and lie, but he didn't. He thought about what seemed realistic and doable for him and said he would do therapy and work on other aspects of our relationship. I believe him. And part of me feels stupid for that. I honestly don't think he's trying in any way to deceive me here, but he's in denial about his own level of control in this situation. So how can I believe him, when I know he's not really in control? So here we are.

T is asking me to trust him. I am trying to live with vulnerability in the hopes that I can find real connection and intimacy without setting myself up to be taken advantage of and mistreated when addiction takes over. Is that possible?

Extremely cautious optimism. With as little expectations as are possible. As a prayer, not a swear, Heaven help us!

Sit with it

Anyone whose at all familiar with addiction, or co-dependence (or any of this situation, or many others probably) knows how the emotions hit you.

The roller coaster. It flies and dips and turns. It can make you feel crazy and sick.

But when you recognize that the emotions don't last forever, that you can't control them, that you have to learn how to ride and let go, you can manage. You learn to sit with whatever you're feeling at the moment and refrain from reacting rashly. You learn that this particular discomfort will pass, at some point. Sit with it. Try to understand it. Learn something from it if you can. Don't let it control you.

I've spent a few years learning all of the above. I had no idea what I was practicing for.

T and I decided to separate and I apparently jumped on the highest, fastest, curviest, loop-de-loop roller coaster ever invented.

I can feel hundreds of emotions in one day. Often dozens all at once. There's a little relief. There's a little comfort, there's some sense that this is necessary and there's some hope that I can get off the ride some day. But, for the most part, it is UNCOMFORTABLE! Anxiety and Fear, Sadness and Anger. Confusion. Betrayal. Disbelief. Rejection. They used to creep up when a trigger presented. Now, they slam into me irregardless of my surroundings. Yesterday I was wrapped up in teaching a lesson to a group of seventh graders that are pretty difficult and my lesson was going really well, I was pleased, and distracted to the point that I forgot I was on a roller coaster. Then I turned to grab something, and BAM! right in the face and gut, all at once. I think I made an audible gasp, but I honestly don't remember.

But my roller coaster is speeding. The obstacles are frequent and fierce. but also shorter lived. It's all moving faster, so the dips, hills, twists, whatever, come and go quickly and are replaced with the next surprise emotion.

I started off last week forgetting what I knew about sitting. I wanted to leap off that ride as soon as it took off. I used sarcasm and endless questions of T trying to figure out how to get off, to get rid of the crazy spinning in my head and the sick pit in my stomach. Every old bad habit of unintentional manipulation and attempts to control launched me further away from any sense of calm or peace.

Then I remembered. You have to ride. You have to sit with it. It will pass. And it does. The ride keeps moving swiftly. I'm figuring out the how, why and what of what exactly I'm feeling. I try and articulate it, determine it's source. I let myself feel it when I can, creating boundaries as necessary, and shove it down when I have to in order to function in my many roles, but remember to revisit and self-care later on.

I'm remembering how awful the slow, endless coaster was and am committed to sticking with this brutal faster one hoping that letting go, riding it out, will get me to level ground.

Pride

The decision was made and things moved quickly and dreadfully slowly at the same time. We decided together Monday night. By the time T was supposed to be home on Tuesday from work, he texted to tell me he was looking at apartments. Ok.

I was trying to leave for the gym and wasn't planning to bring the kids, when I told them they now had to come, they asked why. All the anxiety over how, what when to tell them came out. I didn't wait for T. I just told the kids. My son (7) seemed to get it. My 6 year old daughter started to cry and kept asking "why" and my 4 year old seemed unnerved by her sister. They rebounded relatively quickly. We went to the gym.

Their dad was home when we got back. Showed them pictures of the apartment in the brochure. There's a pool. They seem mostly ok for now.

I had been mostly ok, but was starting to crack a little. Emotion was taking over (maybe too hard of a work -out + not enough food + 4 hours of sleep, oh and the break-up of my 11 year marriage).

Anyway. I started asking T for lots of clarification. I don't think I was out of line. I wanted to know things like if he was planning to date and did he intend to have women of interest around our kids. Stuff that was hard to think about. Then we had to talk about money. Yuck.

I started imaging scenarios of my husband dating and I was getting mad and upset. I told him at one point "I can't do this". I think he took that to mean that I didn't want the separation. That's not what I meant. I meant I don't want a "trial" separation. I don't want to wonder if/when/who he might be seeing if there's even the slightest possibility that we would be continuing to work on our marriage apart.

I was heading to crazy town fast.

Then T, when I started crying and asking for detailed plans, told me to be strong.

That's when I realized all the ways pride was playing into my emotions. First I was indignant. BE STRONG? Are you kidding me? Do you EVEN know how strong I am? Do you know what I've come through? Maybe not always graceful, but I am strong.

Then today at work, I was thinking about why I got so worked up thinking about him with other women and I realized it was just more pride and uncertainty. Pride in the bad way. The pride in me doesn't want him to be happy with or even interested in someone else. The fear of uncertainty and being kept in the dark just plays into all the issues we've had through our whole marriage. No trust.

I made another decision. What works for me, is to assume that T will start seeing other women as soon as he finds opportunity. Maybe he won't. Maybe there will be a miracle and this some how works out (but I'm not holding my breath). And, maybe it's not wise to have expectations one way or another at all, but I can't deal with uncertainty right now. I need the freedom to not care. Not my circus anymore. Not my monkeys. The only way I can seem to do that, to let go and move forward is to assume it is/or will happen.

Either way, it's prideful for me to assume it is all about me. It has nothing to do with me. Remember, I'm strong and awesome, of course, so his choosing another person/people even if it feels like he's trying to test the water to see if there is something better, isn't about me. It's about him. And, the if/when/who/where/what of it all doesn't have to impact how I want to move on.

I am strong and I can let it all go.

And while it seems like it took FOREVER to come to a decision, and now that we have everything is moving quickly, it feels like it's going to take FOREVER for this to all be settled and I desperately want things to be settled. Now that a decision is made, I want him gone, I want life within my control to some extent. Does that mean I've learned nothing from Step One? I don't know. Maybe. But I also feel like I've been swimming with bricks tied to my legs and I'm ready to take a break. You know?

I've been loving this song by Taylor Swift these days, though she hasn't released the single so this a cover...

Vegetables

During our rough conversation last week, T was in the middle of prepping meals for the week. He was chopping broccoli. He looked at me and said, "Remember when we were first married and I didn't really eat any vegetables. You gave me a hard time about that and always cooked them." I agreed with him, though it seemed like a pretty random thought. He then said something to the effect of, "You were worried about me. You just wanted me to be healthy. You weren't trying to be a nag telling me how I should live". I agreed with that statement too and the conversation turned back to what we were really talking about. Lost happiness and potential big changes in our family.

That brief conversation felt like it was T's way of acknowledging my sincere intentions. It felt like him saying, "I get it. You're not trying to control me, you're trying to help me". It was nice to hear, even in a vague vegetable statement. It's nice to be acknowledged and treated with fairness, rather than be accused of untrue motives. It's nice. I'm not sure it changes anything.

I had some conversations with friends. I started looking into the legalities of divorce, convinced T is more knowledgeable than I am. And then I circled back to T. What exactly are we talking about doing?

T backed tracked on the "by the time I'm 35" statement. I think the anxiety that comes whenever we honestly consider divorce was starting a minor panic in both of us. I told him that as hard as the idea of breaking up our family seemed, the idea of getting off of the merry-go-round of issues we've been on sounded appealing. Things have to be different.

During our discussion last week, I meekly mentioned that maybe his unhappiness was at least partly due to drinking and addiction. Maybe he took that to heart. Maybe he realized this was a vegetable conversation.

T stated he was going to cut out alcohol for 30 days and see if he feels any differently. We're on day 5. I have no idea if he's holding to his commitment, though there's no evidence that he's not. So far nothing feels any different, though my heart may be numb. He's also on first shift this month, when these kinds of commitments are easier to keep. I don't know if he has any intention/desire to abstain when the challenge will be much more daunting.

I've had some people ask me if I've done all I can. I truly feel that I have. I'm convinced I've daone everything that is within my control. I've spoken my peace, I've learned to control my emotions and examine my intentions. I've pleaded and prayed and detached with love. I've tried to support, encourage conversation. I've asked him explicitly if there's something in particular I can do differently to help our situation. I've tried counseling, and maybe that seems limited as I've explained on this blog, but when you're with someone who is so guarded and closed off in communication, there's only so much you can do on your own. It has been 11 years. Assuming our relationships ends, I don't think I will look back with regret wishing I had done more. I've prayerfully considered, and I don't know what more I could do.

I've done my part, or at least I'm comfortable with my efforts, in my marriage. I still hope and pray for miracles. But I'm confident that neither God nor I, will/can force anyone's choices.

So, I'm left with more "let's wait and see". T eats a lot of vegetables these days.

Emotions

I haven't written here in a long time. Has it been a year? Maybe. I didn't look at the date of my last post. This blog felt like a life saver because it was a place for me to park my thoughts and emotions and someone actually listened and CARED and didn't think I was unreasonable or selfish or controlling. People responded and related to me and helped me through really hard feelings.

But, I after I shared the blog with T, and after I declared there was no way I could handle staying in my marriage (and then I did) writing here didn't feel right any more. It felt heavy. I'm not sure why. I've missed some of the relationships I've built here, and I often wonder about and worry that everyone who I connected with here is doing okay. But I just couldn't bring myself to do anything that wasn't necessary, that felt heavy. There was enough of that.

T and I tried marriage counseling for about a minute. I think three sessions total. In my opinion, not really enough to get anywhere. But it was hard. I liked our therapist well enough. I feel like he helped me understand the stress of my husband's job a little better, I think he opened T's eyes to the amount of drinking he was really doing, and challenged him to set a limit for himself, see if he could stick to it, and if not evaluate together what that means. As far as I know, T never took that advice.

What as particularly hard for me, were discussions about porn and lust. The therapist agreed with me that the sex industry was seedy, that was a good reason to stay away from all that. But he always circled back to what everyone always says, that this is natural and not a big deal. That I should feel good that my husband turns to me when he's been "turned on" else where. I explained to him, and T, that that made me feel used and killed the intimacy connection I wanted with my husband. That might have been the last conversation we had on the matter.

I got a new job and our schedules became really difficult. T thought it might be good to go see the therapist one-on-one, so he eventually scheduled an appointment and went. I asked him about it and he refused to tell me anything. I then refused to schedule my own appointment. I've done personal therapy and I know what it feels like when I need to be doing it, and I didn't feel like I needed it at the time and so I didn't go. It wasn't marriage counseling anymore if we weren't even going to talk to each other about it.

Months have gone by with a lot of the same, some really good and some really not good moments. There haven't been the lows like there used to be though. I think that's because I'm a lot healthier than I used to be.

I started trying to talk to T about our issues again, and we had a conversation that I felt really good about. I felt like maybe we were learning how to communicate and we could figure things out.

I had hope.

Then nothing really changed.

I've given T back his privacy, I don't know if it's because it's the right thing to do and he deserves it or because I just can't carry around the burden of trying to figure things out all the time. Either way, I don't snoop around, but I also know things aren't any different than they were back when I did. I figured if he changed his behaviors in any dramatic way, I'd know. So, I don't snoop through internet histories or try and figure out what he's doing, but, because I don't assume anything is different, I can infer when he's been trying to hide something. I asked him about it a few days ago.

I told him he was hiding things and cutting me out and that it was hurtful. He admitted he was looking at relationship advice. Which he later clarified was actually studying up on divorce. That he committed to himself  a while back to make a decision about our relationship by the time he turns 35, the end of next month.

It was a surreal conversation. I had the distinct feeling that no matter what, I will be okay. I'm kind of amazed that I was able to keep it together. It was a blessing. T listed reasons why he thought I was a great companion, but that he just wasn't happy. He suggested separation. Dating other people. Testing the waters. I told him I wasn't really interested in a "trial" separation where he dates people and decides if I measure up. I wouldn't be dating other people while I'm still married, as a moral commitment I've made, so it just didn't feel right. If we were going to separate, it would be because we are divorcing.

He asked for time. Until his 35th birthday I guess. I suggested that his happiness had little to do with me, Suggested he try to stop drinking, or do something differently before we end our marriage and hurt our kids, in the name of unhappiness that I honestly, truly feel, has nothing to do with me. He agreed.

We kissed goodnight in a kind of heartbreaking way, probably both wishing things weren't what they are.

I went to bed, he stayed up drinking and, I infer, privately browsing the internet. Divorce research? Who knows.

I had a hard time at work the next day. I felt uneasy, I couldn't focus. The day dragged on. The kids' school was cancelled for a snow day and T took them to his parents' for a memorial for his grandmother. He came back in a foul mood.

I don't expect much to change in the next six weeks. So it looks like we will divorce, though I've made similar declarations on here before and felt foolish later. T said he thought it was inevitable that our relationship would end at some point. I agreed that if things didn't change, that was probably true. So why put it off? Just because it's hard? I don't think waiting will make it any easier.

So in the next brief while, things will change. One way or another. I do okay with that thought, realizing that most likely it means becoming a single mom. I can get the sense that everything will be okay, even though I don't have a clue about finances, where I'll end up living, how we'll figure out custody, dividing our lives that we've built over the last 11 years. I just know that I can do it. That if that's the hard road I have to take, it will be okay.

But, when I'm around T I feel a thousand things at once. I see him with our kids and my heart about splits into a thousand pieces as I think about the pain and confusion it will cause them.

My heart aches because I honestly love this man, and I will miss him. I already do.

It's hard to think about what his life will be like. In a lot of ways. It's hard to think that he'll date other women. Probably be happy with the excitement of a new life for a bit, but that ultimately, his happiness won't come because of any of that. He'll still be unhappy, but without his kids and his wife. I honestly don't want that for him. I want him to be happy and healthy, For himself, for our kids.

I do have some fear about loneliness.

T's at work right now, and I feel like I can handle all this. But when he's around, it's so hard to not pretend like everything's okay. Enjoy cuddling on the couch or joking about our day. It's also hard not resort to anger and sarcasm. Those emotions mask the real ones that are hard to deal with. The ones that are so uncomfortable to sit with.

I'm not sure how to make it through the next six weeks. I'm not sure there's much point in having all these uncomfortable moments that cause me to run and hide in my bathroom while I shed tears until I can compose myself enough to get back to the role of mother.

I've always hated the sense of limbo- but it looks like that's where I am. At least now I know there's an end date.

I can't

I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know how things are going to work out for me and my kids.

But, I can't ignore, enable, pretend anymore.

I can't stand to be lonely another night.

I can't listen to, or read any more justifications about how it's the church, not porn, and certainly not alcohol, that are the wedge in my marriage.

I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow or the day after, but it isn't going to be more of this.

I can't ignore, enable or pretend.

I can't be numb.

I can't be patient.

I can't stop these HARD feelings.

I can't stay.

It's been a while

It's been a while since I've written.

I shared the blog with T. It's weird. I was so nervous to tell him about all this. Nervous that when he read it that he'd be mad or that I would feel what Brene Brown calls excruciating vulnerability. (See the last post). It never once occured to me that I would tell T about all this and he'd NOT want to read it. I've spent years now trying to pry information and feeling out of that man, so the idea that he wouldn't want to know what I was thinking and feeling, that I was essentially offering him a peek into my diary and he wouldn't want it, never crossed my mind. Until.

I told T about the blog and he said he wasn't sure if he wanted to read it. Of all I was worried about- that was not something that had crossed my mind. During this conversation T also mentioned he thought that I was tired (it was late) and that I was trying to create drama. I felt speechless. Drama is the one thing I've been trying to GET OUT of my life. I don't want any of it! I wasn't sure what to do with the information that my husband might not want to read about this vulnerable part of myself that I've been keeping from him.

(Now that it's been a few weeks and I feel less anxious, I can see where he was coming from. I was dropping some big news on him. He didn't react the way I would have, but he's not like me in a lot of ways and that's okay).

After I was unsure if T was going to read the blog, I felt WAY too vulnerable. I didn't want him to read all this with out me knowing. So I closed down the blog. About a week after the first conversation, T let me know he'd tried to read my blog and couldn't get to it. I eventually opened it back up and he read it.

Another week passed and I asked T what he thought. He said he thought I had made some false assumptions (I'm sure I have), but didn't really tell me what they were. He said that he felt like he's "ruined my life", but that nothing I had written caused him to be angry at me.

Those words "ruined life" ran through me head and I knew they weren't true. My life isn't what I thought it would be, but it's certainly not ruined. I was almost indignant at the thought. I won't allow addiction to ruin my life, thank-you-very-much.

I'm not sure if anything has really changed as a result of my sharing this blog- I don't know that I expect it to. I guess since the thought to share it came from out of nowhere (or from inspiration) I figured there was a purpose. Whatever the reason, I felt like I should share it. I wasn't sure why, and I'm still not really sure, but there is something about being completely honest and vulnerable. I am glad that I did. I'm relieved that I have no more secrets. I am grateful that all the information on my part is "out there" so that we can move forward making informed decisions. Before, when T made certain decisions, he might have known I wouldn't or didn't like it, but that's about as far as it went. He knows everything now. It doesn't necessarily change any of those decisions, but there's no more excuses for either of us. I don't know why I spent so many years scared of being honest.

A few weeks ago T wrote me a letter. He mostly talked about how our differences over religious beliefs have caused a wedge in our relationship. I suppose some of that is true. But, I mostly blame addiction for that wedge. Addiction and lack of communication.

I responded to T's letter immediately. I told him that I wanted what he wanted, to save our marriage. I told him what I felt I needed for that to happen (pretty much the same things I listed here). I asked him to let me know what he wanted/needed so we could work from there. He never responded. A few days after I wrote him back, I asked him about his response. He had read my response after a long shift at work and hadn't had the energy to write or talk about it then. I get that. But it's been weeks now, and nothing. We obviously are on different planes when it comes to how we handle these emotionally charged issues, but he says he wants "to work really hard" to fix things, he writes that he loves me and our family and can't imagine life without us, and then in a two week time period he can't find time to have a conversation with me or write me his feelings? I don't get it. I feel like his words are sincere, but his actions don't match so I don't know how (or if I should) trust them.

It's been a while since I expected anything different. T is extremely uncomfortable having these types of conversations and I don't know how to have a REAL marriage without them. He seems to be content keeping everything buried. He is still seeing a therapist, but after months of therapy, he's only ever mentioned that his therapist suggested we find fun activities to do together. Nothing about where he is, if he thinks it's helpful or not, what they talk about, what he thinks about his drinking habits. Nothing.

I don't know exactly what I expect, want or need when it comes to communication, especially about therapy since I know that's personal in a lot of ways. But I'm his WIFE. I choose to commit to his man, to love him, support him and share my life with him forever. How do you do that when you don't even know each other anymore? I don't know how much of the wall that exists between us is me, how much is addiction, how much is avoidant emotional behavior on T's part. I don't know if maybe I have unrealistic expectations of communication in marriage, but there's this wall, it's just there, probably from both us, and I want it gone. This giant brick wall keeps me from feeling a real connection, real intimacy, with my husband and I hate it.

It's been a while since I've felt loved.

It's been a while since I've felt that I have let my-self really love someone else.

A few weeks ago in church someone made a comment about how dealing with life changes a little when things aren't "hunky dory". That comment struck me as really odd, and not just because someone said "hunky dory". Does anyone have a life where there are prolonged periods of carefree, "hunky dory"? What is that like? I certainly don't remember anything like that. There are moments, sure. But a whole period of time where you didn't feel like you had any real problems or concerns? Where you're just living life and your biggest issue is you're bored with the routine?

I have moments where I imagine being past these issues with T and I wonder what I would even think about. What would I do with my life if I weren't weighed down by what ifs.

I don't spend every waking minute worrying about these issues (I used to, and that was AWFUL), but there has yet to be a day when there isn't something that brings up questions, concerns, anxiety, trust issues, whatever.

In my response to T's letter, I told him we should take separating off the table for now since it was causing us both a lot of stress. We both seem to want to make things work, so for the time being, I would quit thinking about leaving and focus on solutions that work. It seems like that statement was enough to let him think we are "good" and there's nothing else to talk about at this point. But he never said if he thought he could live with my "must haves". He never told me what his are. So any relief I might have felt from my marriage being somewhat stable for the first time in a while, is absent.

Here goes nothing...

I've been MIA from this blog- but a lot has been going on. Let me explain. No. There is too much. Let me sum up. (Is there someone out there who awards blog points if you quote Princess Bride?) No?

Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel at any given moment and I have a hard time sifting through my emotions figuring out what is overreaction (hormones/insanity/satan/whatever you want to call it) and what is legit betrayal trauma, hurt, or warnings of the spirit. I just don't know. I'm not sure there's always a real distinction but I feel like I have a very real tendency to take a situation that isn't okay and blow it up to the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person. Anxiety- I think that's what they call that. And then, I can calm myself back down after I've run through all the worst case scenarios and find some shred of evidence to discredit some of the awful scenarios I imagine. All that rambling just to say, I've been too confused, and too consumed with my own thoughts to really write anything that I'd want anyone else to read.

So, back to the "sum up": I wrote T a letter really trying to be honest. Trying to own up to my role in our messy relationship and trying to tell him about what I wanted and needed. I ended the letter with a pleading for him to talk to me about what he wanted and needed so if it didn't align with my desires and needs, that we figure that out sooner than later. I think the words I used were "so we can stop hurting each other". T never mentioned the letter, though he seemed to be more open and affectionate and concerned with my feelings after reading it (which I'm pretty certain he did).

So that's been the last month or so. Things seemed to be getting better, with a few hiccups along the way.

I started reading a book called Made to Crave which is about choosing to rely on God rather than food because I have a friend that recommended it, and it's something I struggle with. (I've been enjoying it for the most part, fwiw). I randomly grabbed a folded piece of paper on my side table to use as a book mark when I got interrupted reading the other day and just yesterday noticed that it was actually my patriarchal blessing folded up. Whoops. Not sure how I missed that. But I took it as a sign to read the blessing, which I hadn't done in a while.

Before rereading it, I prayed to know God's will for me, and prayed to have the courage to know and do what I needed to know and do. There are several parts of my blessing that I've thought about often over the last couple years, but there was one line I hadn't ever thought much about before. It said "You are to live so that the Holy Ghost can guide and direct you. You are to listen to His promptings and be willing to follow them". That "willing to follow them" hit me pretty hard. That's what I've been praying for, direction. I keep saying I'm willing to follow whatever guidance I feel like God is giving me, but I'm not sure I've been actually acting on that. I had that in mind the rest of the day and felt resolved that I ought to be more determined to show God that I WILL follow His direction.

Anyway, nothing earth shattering, but I was feeling pretty good the rest of the day. And then. And then minutes after coming home from work, T told me he decided to go out with some friends for St. Patrick's day. He was going downtown, and that's about as much as I could get out of him. He asked my permission, but I was certain he'd already decided he was going so I didn't say much. I was not happy, but like that first paragraph, couldn't separate out what was really my issue, or why I felt so uncomfortable or upset by it so I just didn't say much. He'd say things like "I don't really want to go, but my co-workers/friends are always begging me". It felt like an excuse, like not owning up to the fact that he wanted to go, as a way to make it so I wouldn't be upset. Just before I fell asleep, he texted me to say he wasn't having fun and it wasn't his "scene". I didn't know what to think or feel. So I went to bed.

I went to bed before he got home, and slept pretty horribly.

Then, this morning, about a half hour before my alarm was set to go off, after a pretty restless night, I woke up in the middle of a dream. The only thing I remember about the dream was that a friend was telling me about a quote her mom had shown her about keeping secrets. I don't remember it exactly, but it had to do with not really feeling free until you weren't keeping secrets and were 100% honest with people. I was dreaming that conversation as I woke up and only semi-consciously thought about my own secrets. Within a split second I decided I didn't have any and then clear as day, the thought came to me, but strangely not in my own voice, "show him the blog". That was it. A little statement that I knew meant show T THIS blog.

This blog isn't something I've told anyone about in my real life. I knew it was a possibility that T would find out about it, and everything I've written, I feel has been my honest perspective so I'm not ashamed of my thoughts or words, but I NEVER had any intention of purposely showing any of this to him. And for whatever reason, I think that's exactly what I'm supposed to do. But I really DON'T WANT to.

I'm scared.

These are my words. My thoughts. My fears. My hurts. I don't want to let them go, leave them unprotected.

I fear that T will be really angry that I've posted very personal business in a potentially very public place.

I fear that T will be upset about the times that I've spied on his internet history, looked at text messages, or other wise invaded his privacy.

I fear T will be defensive and offended by my thoughts and feelings.

I fear that the small progress that I feel we've made over the last month will be ruined and things will be as uncomfortable as they've ever been in our home.

I fear T will be upset with the level of information I've shared with my parents.

Mostly, I fear T will diminish my most vulnerable feelings and insecurities. That this blog will somehow prove to him that I am crazy or so out of touch with what he wants and feels that there's no more reason to hope.

I fear my feelings, once all laid out, uncensored and unprotected, will leave me only further rejected.

But with all that fear, I can only think that it's probably better to have it all out. I shouldn't be keeping secrets about how I feel. I shouldn't be pretending to be some other version of myself. Let's rip off this band-aid and get to the real mess, so we can move on.

Granted if I were to have each of these posts as a conversation with T, I would be much more careful about word choice, false assumptions (of which I'm sure there are plenty), and some of these posts were written in pretty emotional states in which I would not choose to have a conversation - but it's raw and real and I felt impressed not to go back and edit somethings - though I can't tell you how tempting that has been!

I feel nervous and vulnerable and scared. But I also feel empowered. I was given clear direction. I was given permission to be vulnerable and I was given the next step to take. I have been begging for so long to know what to do, and now I know what to do. I get to start moving again. And whatever the fall-out of showing T this blog, I know I can rely on my Savior to get me through it.

The ache

Have you seen this article?

In which I am learning to live with the ache.

As I read the article, I related.

I was comforted to know that I'm not alone in these feelings. I've always felt like MY ache on this subject was heightened because I didn't know when I had my last baby (almost 4 years ago now), that she would be my last. At the time, I also had a 2 and 1 year old. Heck, I barely remember my youngest baby being a baby. 

I barely remember, and I didn't know she'd be my last. Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel gypped. I feel regret.

But while I was reading that article, I was hit with a much more heart wrenching scenario. I didn't LIVE those moments while they were happening. I didn't live them, and I can't have them back. I spent years angry and sad and depressed and worried and busy and tired. Some of that was the nature of having three babies while working and going to school. Some of that was due to holes being cut out of my heart by addiction.

All of it, those feelings, that numbness, was within my control. I just didn't know it. I can't fault myself. I really, truly didn't know I had choice over my feelings and reactions. I did what I could fighting fatigue and heartbreak. Fear and loneliness. All any of us can ask of ourselves is to keep showing up. Even asking ourselves to try and be our BEST selves, all the time is too much. That's not real. Wallowing in guilt over those "failures" of not always trying your best won't help anything. Keep showing up; I did that.

But I don't want to miss anymore of these moments. My babies are now 6, 5 and almost 4. They aren't babies. There are frustrating and hard things about these ages. (Ask me how fun it was to clean up the poop my youngest "dropped"??? on the bathroom floor this afternoon, then stepped in, and tracked halfway through the house without ever saying a word). I'm sure there are hard and frustrating things about every stage of raising children. I don't want to dwell on that. I don't want to be undone by that. I want to savor the moments that matter. Starting now, I'm planning to LIVE my life, to be present.

I'm anticipating that I won't be my best at this new plan all the time, but I do want to make a concerted effort to find a piece of joy each day. Cherish the good that comes with each new stage I get to experience.

After reading the article, I realize that no matter what my circumstances (regardless of what they were, and whatever they will be in the future) there will always be an ache, a longing, as time passes. I just want that ache to be because I wish to re-experience some wonderful memories. Textbook nostalgia. That's the ache I want. I don't want holes and emptiness because I missed out, lost out, on the chance to experience what was going on all around me. I don't want to ache because I was too damaged by the effects of addiction to actually live my life as it happens.

Two conversations

Disclaimer: I'm not sure when this blog morphed from my personal attempts at recovery to a play-by-play of my drama. I'm not sure it has ever been what I intended, actually. I never wanted for the "this is what happened, this is what he said" etc. to be the bulk of my content. I think I'm in a recovery rut, for a lot of reasons. And, it helps to hash out some of the details. I'm not currently seeing a therapist and since I obviously have the same issue of venting my drama in person as I do writing it out, this happens to be the venue where I'm processing. So, all that to say, I don't know that reading this would be particularly helpful to anyone, and could in fact be a trigger. I certainly wouldn't call it uplifting writing. But it's real. It's where I'm at right now and I have to write it out to process - so take it or leave it I suppose ;)

What. a. day.

It's freezing and snowing, so my normal 30 minute commute to work this morning took an hour and 10 minutes. Yuck.

Half-way through the work day, my husband texts me: "spytech?"

Apparently, I left open the spying software I installed on our computer. T didn't know about it. I actually thought the program I owned and installed was called something else so I didn't answer his direct question about spying on him when he texted me. He called me out on avoiding his questions texting me, "don't play coy". I also didn't want to talk about this over text or while I was at work.

On my LONG drive home I ran through all the scenarios of various five minute discussions we might have before he'd have to leave for work. I decided that although I'd probably feel more anxious now that I can't discretely check when T's lying, but that overall, I was glad to be honest about what I put on our computer and why and hope that maybe we could start a real conversation about where to go from here. Ideally, that he can have the privacy he wants and I won't feel threatened by that because he's open and honest and seeking recovery. Or not. I imagined scenarios that didn't go well at all. But whatever the result, I figured it was best to have the information out and have a discussion. After all, that's what I'm always asking for.

The convo didn't go terribly. I told T why I installed the software (I believe it was right around the time he was purposely showing me that he could use incognito and other tools to "claim back his privacy", kind of missing the whole point of the discussions we'd been having, whatever... ). I asked him if he was mad. He kind of laughed like he does, and said "I'm used to it". I asked if he has any questions about the program or anything he wanted to ask me. He said no. The conversation probably would have ended there. I pushed a little. I told him I would be pretty mad if I thought someone was spying on me and that I would also be upset if my husband felt he had reason to spy, or felt he couldn't trust me. T said "I don't have anything to hide so it doesn't really matter".  And somewhere in there was the line that I "needed to have realistic expectations". I'm not sure what he meant by that and we didn't have time to talk about it.

The more I think about it- the more I'm upset by it all. It really isn't right to be in a relationship where I can't feel safe. People should be allowed some level of privacy, and under normal circumstances I wouldn't fathom snooping or checking up on my husband. There's just been so many lies. I can't imagine lying like it's nothing to anyone really, let alone my spouse. He is so good at saying, seemingly sincerely, what he thinks I want to hear, and then doing and saying completely contradictory things when he thinks I won't know. Clearly, this is no way to live and love; where the anxiety of wondering what he's doing is so strong that I felt it necessary to use a spying program. I don't know. As always, I'm torn over what it all means so I'm typing it out, trying to figure it out.

As a follow up to the last post, I cleaned my house which allowed me to exert enough control and shut off my mind that I avoided a complete break down, but I have to admit, the whole scenario scared me. I'm clearly not getting the self-care and help that I need. I can feel stress building.

Later that night, T told me that he was in fact still seeing his therapist; that he was due to see him back in six weeks. The appointment should be coming up soon. It doesn't make any sense. I don't know why he was either lying before about not going anymore, was purposely vague trying to make me think he wasn't going, or is lying now. T also said that he planned to cut alcohol "out of his diet". When I asked for clarification he said 1 to 3 drinks, 1 or 2 nights a week. Obviously not the same as "cutting it out" and obviously not likely to happen. He's an addict. He still can't grasp his inability to control the situation. By the time we had this conversation, I was pretty numb. Recovered from my near crisis, but not all relieved or hopeful about what he shared as far as drinking or therapy. In theory, it was good news, It just didn't make any sense and I felt nothing.

There's also been instances where I've heard or see things said by or about T, to or by friends or co-workers that are upsetting. I honestly don't think T's acting out with anyone outside of the marriage (though I couldn't say for sure - I've read enough fellow WoPA stories to not be surprised) but he clearly talks and jokes in a way that makes people say things like "I bet T has a blow-up doll you could borrow".

Just, ewww.

I don't want to overreact, and I don't want to take what is obviously a joke (made by someone other than T) as evidence of my husband's character... but, still. Who is this guy I think I know, that I think I love, who apparently is someone totally different when I'm not around? What's the real him? Does he even know? If he's 100% that other guy, really, even anything more than 50%, and the guy I get to see and talk to is a front, I'm not really interested in being linked to him for the rest of my life. I suppose it's too late to claim I don't want that guy as the male role model for my kids. But how do you even separate it out? I don't feel like the good in him is cancelled out by it, and I don't feel like I have any right to expect perfection in morals or character. I certainly can't bring that to the table myself. But shouldn't there be some level of decency? I feel like I'm the mom from Everybody Loves Raymond saying, "T, I don't like that" as he spouts off sexist, discriminating, or demeaning comments - only it's not ever really done in front of me to object to in the first place. I guess I just assumed. I thought I was married to someone who conducted himself in a way that wouldn't lend to these types of jokes and obscene pictures being directed at him.

Anyway, I'm still mostly just numb to it all. And as always, I don't know what happens from here. It feels like a fake life. We run through the motions and enjoy spending time together and hanging out with our kids, but at least for me, there's always the numbness and the underlying doubts and questions and lack of trust. How's that for a depressing state of being?

Crisis

This morning I was in crisis mode. I was having a mental crisis. I couldn't think or reason. I was having an emotional crisis. I couldn't stop crying. I was anxious and  I was scared that I was literally becoming crazy, right in that very moment. They would pin-point January 20th, 2014 at 10:38 as the moment I lost it for good.

These crises have all been building, and coming and going for years, but this morning was different because it was accompanied by a very real crisis of faith.

I've been able to handle (not always well mind you, but handle none-the-less) whatever this messy life has thrown at me because I believe in a loving God that is guiding me and sustaining me.

This morning, I think I still believe all that, but I just can't understand. I'm so tired. I've been so stressed for so long. I need relief. I need peace.

T is not in recovery. In fact, he quit going to counseling too after 4 or 5 sessions. Him getting help was the condition I set for staying in the marriage. With his decision to quit therapy, without even telling me, seemed like the sign. I've been living a life that I don't want for a long time. I don't like our schedules, I don't like the sacrifices that I make to accommodate the choices T makes. I don't like that I can't be real or vulnerable with my husband. I don't like that we don't talk about anything that matters. I don't like that I can't trust him. I don't like that he lies. I don't like that he's a different person around me than he is around everyone else at work or when he's with his friends. I don't like that I'm married to a man who seems to have no respect for women and thinks its perfectly okay to treat them as objects to satisfy his lust. I'm angry about all this sometimes. But, mostly I'm just sad. Sad that T can't see that his choices have hurt us. Sad that T won't address whatever issues he's dealing with. Sad that he won't talk to me about anything real. Sad that I'm living a life that I don't want.

So, back to this morning. Ever since T admitted to me, about two weeks ago, that he was no longer going to therapy, I've been trying to figure out what to do. There didn't seem to be any sign of anything ever being different. I can tolerate this life for now, and I have. There's enough distraction with kids and work and church that I can push aside the emptiness from the "non-marriage" that I seem to have. But, I can't IMAGINE still having this life in ten years. I can't imagine trying to parent teenagers with my husband. I can't imagine taking trips together or being retired together. I can't imagine the loneliness I feel lasting years and years. And, since it doesn't seem like anything was changing, I figured as awful as it would be, and as sad as it would be, and despite how much I can't stand the thought of hurting my kids, it seemed like it was time to separate. Why spend more time unhappy and scared and lonely to just delay the inevitable?

So I prayed about it. I told Heavenly Father I had decided to talk to T about separation and that if it wasn't right, I'd do His will, but he needed to let me know.

The next day, T did three things that made me think there was a slight chance for hope. Enough to make me feel uneasy about asking for a separation. A separation with which I felt logically justified, but never at peace. I chalked that lack of peace up to the fact that it would be hard, and sad, and wasn't what anyone really wanted, but was probably best for us both in the long run.

But that sliver of hope. Those three things. Those things that should be out weighed by the 30 things he did to prove that he's an addict and our lives and values aren't really compatible, made it impossible to feel any kind of resolve to separate.

And now I feel mad. I don't want a divorce. But I don't want this life either. If T isn't going to change, I don't want this, and divorce seems the only option. It seems foolish and stupid to wait around hoping someone will choose to change. I have no control over that. And there is very little, only three tiny little instances, over two days that suggest he MIGHT. So why does a loving Heavenly Father want me to stay in a marriage where I am emotionally mistreated. A marriage that is lonely. A marriage that makes it harder for me to teach my children. Why won't God allow me to feel peace about taking control of my life and choosing to do what I can for me, to make myself happy. Why, when I pray so diligently for direction, am I constantly conflicted.

I feel like I've had to minimize and downplay T's choices and my feelings. I remind myself constantly that he's hurting too, and he doesn't know what to do either, which is why he indulges in addiction. From that point of thought, I can feel compassion and love and a desire to help. But I can't help. I am powerless. So I continue to be hurt. I continue to try and push through. I continue to take it a day, a moment, at a time. And I'm okay. But why can't I be more than okay? Why won't a loving Heavenly Father give me the miracle of peace that he's promised? Either peace to endure this mess or the ability to feel peace about moving on.

The normals of addiction

It's been a weird couple of days. T's and my schedules have kept us busy, and we don't often get a lot of extra time to spend together or do things as a family. We did get to go out for our 10 year anniversary. But T was really tired and acting like he didn't feel well and while we were at dinner he told me he keeps forgetting to pick up his prescription refill for anti-anxiety meds. He thought that was what was throwing him off. Very well could be. All I know was he was acting weird and hard to talk to, that is, hard to talk to in a way that was different from the normal "hard to talk to". Ha.

So I typed out this whole detailed story of what happened in the next few days but it felt too much like I was bashing and nit picking at my husband, and I don't want to do that. So, long story short- T worked a lot, stayed up late without me (almost certainly drinking). I was with the kids by myself for 48 hours straight including somethings like church and neighbor parties that were exhausting. T fell asleep after dinner yesterday and slept through the night for more than 12 hours. And I'm annoyed. And I don't know if that's fair. I don't know what's normal disagreements between a married couple because to me everything leads back to addiction.

I mean he did work a lot the last couple of days, he was not feeling well due to his sudden with drawl of meds and I have no idea if taking the meds (he finally got his prescription yesterday) again might have made him more tired. All I know was that I hadn't seen him, had hardly talked to him in two days and all he cares to do is sleep. It feels like rejection.

 I'm also anticipating more of the same this evening because Mondays are his Fridays. Based on every past Monday/Tuesday in the last while it'll look something like: He'll probably come home and take a nap right after work and wake up in time to help me get the kids to bed. Then he'll go to the gym. We'll hang out for 30 minutes before I go to bed and then he'll stay up late watching TV and drinking. I'll do the Tuesday morning routine with the kids (and since we all have the day off probably go to the gym). We'll come home around 11 at which time T will have been up for maybe 20 minutes. He'll be happy and ready to go for the Christmas Eve festivities. By this point I'll be beyond peeved and full on angry. I typically become short and sarcastic and everything he does bugs me. T thinks I'm a nut. A crazy,angry person. He's nothing but pleasant and patient with the kids while I'm now losing it at every turn. We've done this pattern so many times that it all feels normal. This can't be normal, right? Every time I bring it up, T usually concedes that I have a point and states that he'll do things differently. If he does, it lasts a week at the most.

I feel like I'm out of line for making "taking a nap" into a big deal. I feel like I'm trying to control him by suggesting that things would work better for me, for us, for our kids, if he chose a more normal sleep schedule. The only boundary I've come up with, that does help, is that I don't allow his schedule to interrupt my life. I don't stay up too late because it's the only chance I'd have to spend time with him. I don't skip out on doing things with friends, family or for the kids because it doesn't work for his schedule. It helps, but what he chooses to do, still doesn't work for me. So what then? To me it's all addiction related. To T it's just that "he likes alone time in the evening to unwind". He works hard, he works an inconsistent schedule, etc. etc. so what's the big deal if he wants a nap when he gets home?

This all just seems SO stupid. Should it really be that hard for two adults, parents of three young kids,to come up with a schedule? Could it really be the source of contention, the side effect of addiction, that ultimately breaks up our family?

A great freeze

Ten years ago today I got married. Ten years of marriage. That seems like a significant mile stone. Today, though, I feel mostly nothing.

I can't reconcile things. I can't figure out how to love my husband and be okay with where we are at and still feel stable. I don't know how to be vulnerable with him because I know he's not in a place where he'll honor and care for that vulnerable part of me. Essentially, that means I can't be real with my own husband. After ten years, I'm with a man I love (or at least I did, and believe I still could, but currently won't allow myself to feel anything), but I don't trust him. I don't trust what he says and I don't trust him with my feelings and thoughts.I spent a lot of time in therapy this last year learning how to speak up for myself. I was brave and I said what I wanted and what I needed to say. The worst of what I feared would happen, the things that kept me quiet all those years, happened. I was shocked. I don't talk about these things now, not out of fear, but rather some sort of indignation. He doesn't deserve the chance to dismiss me. He doesn't deserve to know my private and vulnerable thoughts. I won't risk losing myself in the wreckage of this addiction again.

So I've turned everything off. I don't really like being numb from this deep freeze of emotion, but it feels safe. It's certainly not how I hoped I would celebrate a ten year marriage anniversary. It certainly doesn't make for a happy or satisfying marriage. But, it is what it is. I suppose I have hope. I suppose that's why I'm still here. I don't really feel it- probably another effect of the freeze. I'm also not heartbroken or disappointed, also probably from the freeze and from living in my reality long enough to know it isn't all fairy-tales

Either way, I'm not pitying my situation. I'm just taking it a day at a time. Trying to enjoy the small moments with my kids and looking at my husband as a friend whose fun to hang out with and joke around with about non-essential trivia, politics and the antics of our kids.

I don't want to be frozen forever, but for now, I guess it works. Maybe the time will feel right to be vulnerable again. But when that happens, it's going to be a make-it or break-it type situation. I'm trying to allow T to get some therapy under his belt and hoping we might figure out how to have a real marriage again. With that whole vulnerability, honesty, emotional connection and all that. For now, it's more wait and see. Wait and see.

That new leaf looks pretty familiar

credit

Friday afternoon
T: Are you going to the gym in the morning?
Me: Probably. Why?
T: What time?
Me: by 10 at the latest
T: Okay. I'm coming with you (T isn't a morning person and when he's on second shift, not getting home until 12:30, 10 is usually when he gets up)
Me: Yea, right. You might be rolling out of bed then.
T: No. I'm turning over a new leaf.
Me: You'd better not tell me. I might hold you to it.
T: I'm going to bed earlier and waking up earlier. I don't want to sleep my life away.
Me: That's good.

Friday night
T came home from work, ate a late, quick dinner and went to bed with me. I was exhausted since I usually don't stay up that late. I tried to talk to him about his day, but he didn't seem like he felt much like having a conversation. He was looking at facebook on his phone, and half-way talking to me as I drifted off. He put his phone away and I was asleep in seconds. About ten minutes later I woke up to hear him leave the room. I figured he decided he couldn't sleep and figured he was going to drink. Refreshed from my ten minutes of sleep, I decided to get up and go talk to him. I went downstairs and it was pitch black except for the crack of light around the bathroom door. It's the one and only time I've ever caught him in the act.

I think it was particularly hurtful because he had seemed so uninterested in me all night. Didn't want to talk. Didn't show any affection what so ever. I was mad and went back upstairs. He came to try and talk to me about it. But when I didn't laugh it off with him, when instead, I asked him what he had been doing before, what he was fantasizing about, he tried to say "nothing". He must think I'm an idiot. When I wouldn't accept his non-answers, he turned on me. "Why were you following me? Why were you sneaking up on me? Why would you just open a bathroom door without asking permission to come in first?" I didn't bite at that bait. I told him I hadn't done anything wrong. That I was simply curious why he had gotten out of bed and I wouldn't accept his blame. We've been married almost ten years and it's never been practice for us to knock and wait for permission to enter the bathroom. He didn't have an answer for that.

Saturday night
T came home from work, woke me up to tell me he was home and went downstairs to watch college football and drink.

Sunday morning
The kids and I left for 10:00 church while T was still sleeping. As we drove home from church, my five year old daughter mentioned she thought dad would be sleeping when we got home. He wasn't. He was clearing leaves in the backyard. But it was still a bit of a stick to the heart to hear the "normal" my children are experiencing.

I wish T wouldn't have told me he was "turning over" his new leaf. Even though I knew the moment he said it, not to trust it, there was still a fragile fragment of hope.

A few awkward moments...

I've been living in this type of limbo for quite sometime. Others have described it as being married but not having a husband. It's something like that. My therapist's warning seems to have come true. "The longer you live with behaviors, the more normal they will start to seem". It's true. There are so many things about my life, that if they had happened all at once, or if I thought for a second that it was what I was signing up for when I got married, I totes would have bailed! But, it's been a slow progression of ups and downs and now things that would have, and I suppose used to, make my blood boil are, unfortunately, common place in our home. I forget that my normal is quite different from the "normal marriages" of average families.

I was talking with a co-worker who is fresh out of college and lives with her mom. She was telling me how she tries to get ready for the day in 10 minutes because she doesn't like to have to see her mom in the morning. She said they have a weird relationship and she just can't deal with it in the morning. "I need my alone time in the morning", she said. I laughed and agreed and joked with her about how I have three little monkeys climbing on me the second I wake up because I'm not willing to sacrifice those extra minutes of sleep, even for some precious alone time. THEN, she said something about, "I bet you're never alone. I mean you don't even get to sleep alone. There's always someone in your bed next to you".

I was COMPLETELY caught off guard. I must have looked like a trapped animal, trying to come up with something to say. The truth was not an option with this girl I barely know. How would I possibly say, "Well actually, my husband rarely sleeps in my bed because he's an addict (alcohol and lust, btw), and it makes me uncomfortable. So, I do in fact, get to sleep alone often."? I believe after a minute of awkward silence I said something about how T and I never did figure out how to sleep in the same bed comfortably. We have our own blankets and put a pillow between us so we don't encroach, kick or scratch each other at night. That's actually all true. She laughed and the conversation ended and I was left dumbfounded by how unprepared I was for someone to assume that I had a (note the quotes) "normal" relationship.

The next day I was getting my hair highlighted and cut. I was chatting it up with my stylist about kids and holidays while she was washing my hair, but I stopped mid-sentence when I heard the stylist next to me, an older woman, probably late 50s, telling her client about how much her husband likes to come get his hair done at the salon, "he likes to look at all the girls", she said. My words literally caught in my throat as I digested that statement. Puke. How "normal" the rest of the world finds this whole lust thing. Crazy. This woman joked about it like it was completely acceptable and to be expected, though I couldn't help but think that was just a coping mechanism, that deep down it has bothered her all these years. How sad to think that I could go another 30 years and say something about how my husband "loves to go there and look at all the young girls". I can't do that. I can't picture that. I don't WANT that. And yet, I would have said the same thing about my husband not sleeping in the same bed with me almost 10 years ago when we first started out.

I wouldn't say I'm scared, because I have enough trust to hang on to myself, to not get lost in this mess, and to not settle. But, I do worry about what might become my new normal. How many awkward conversations are there in my future? For some crazy reason, not everyone assumes that husbands don't always sleep in the same bed with their wives or that one can completely lose their train of thought when they're triggered due to unintentionally eavesdropping on another's conversation about their husband's lusting habits. People don't understand the disappointment on my face when my husband helps by taking out the recycling. I guess they don't know he only does that in a misguided attempt to hide the bottles.

I don't believe there really is, ever was, or ever will be, a normal. I think comparing, and having expectations like that are way too dangerous for me anyway. But, it's nice to envision a future where my time and efforts aren't spent on managing and surviving my circumstances. I'd like to think that one day my energy will be spent on doing things I'm passionate about and making life better for the people around me. Normal or not, that sounds like a pretty satisfying life to me.

Sunday Inspiration: Wrong Roads

"God is good. He loves us. He is our father. He expects us to pray, and trust, and be believing, and not give up, and not panic, and not retreat, and not jump ship, when something doesn't seem to be going just right. We stay in, we keep working, we keep believing, keep trusting, and follow that same path. We will live to fall in His arms and feel His embrace and hear Him say, 'I told you it'd be okay. I told you it'd be alright'."

This message really hit home. I viewed it as I was preparing a lesson on spiritual self-reliance, and realized mine (spiritual self-reliance) is waning. For a while I was living close to God. I was trusting Him completely. He was SAVING me. He sustained me through the chaos that was my life. And then, seemingly, out of nowhere, I started to doubt it all. It just seems so hard, when you're in the thick of it. It seems like nothing makes sense, and that an all knowing God, who knows exactly what I need at every given minute, is just too good to be true. It seems too much to expect or ask for. Somehow in the last months I stopped trusting the road He set me on. I know, at the time, I felt clear inspiration to make the choices that I've made, so I've stuck with it even though I don't feel that same reassurance day-to-day anymore. I've been starting to panic. I haven't been trusting and believing like I should. So, today I'm recommitting. (I seem to have to do that a lot, huh?)

Trust. Continue to follow whatever road or path God has set you on. Believe it is the one you're suppose to take, until He directs you otherwise.

One more tear

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Last year was rough. But, at least last year, I was able to watch my two preschoolers march in their Halloween costumes during their first ever Halloween school parade. This year I'll miss it. This year I'll be at work, helping other people's children. 

I love my job. I love teaching. I love being around kids. I just miss my own.

I was surprised when I started working how seamlessly it all seemed to go. I was busier of course. I have a hard time getting to the gym or the grocery stores these days. But aside from that, things seem to flow well.

Until.

Until this week when I felt the weight of missing out with my own kids. I had to un-volunteer to help out for my kid's party. I'll beg the babysitter to stay a little longer on Thursday to attend the preschool Halloween parade so there will be someone to wave and smile, someone who's there just for my girls.

This morning my son woke up late and in a mood. I had mere minutes before I had to leave for work. He was sad and started to cry. He jumped into my arms and he sobbed into my neck, "Mommy, I don't want you to leave". Over and over again. "Mommy, I don't want you to leave". It's so hard not to think about WHY I had to leave. I had to go to a job I felt I had to get. To feel just a bit safer, a bit more sheltered, from the addictions.   

This morning my heart ripped open a little more. I'm running out of room for stitches. Porn, addiction, kills love in more than just one way.

Normal enough?

I've been wanting to write. I feel like I need to write. But, I can't think of anything worth saying. "Ditto" or "Same-old, same-old" comes to mind. I had an annoying conversation about finances with T a few days ago where I was triggered and overreacting because it just felt like one more instance where he can't compromise, where he can't consider my needs and feelings. He can only comprehend what he wants. The worst part is the conversation started out with him trying to include me in a decision. It just became clear that he wanted to do something he thought I wouldn't like, and he wanted me to give him permission- for whatever reason. To ease any guilt, to prevent an argument down the road, a mixed up attempt at actually trying to come to an agreement about something. Who knows. 

Then, T's sister called to catch-up. It was the worst conversation I've had about my situation with someone other than T. It was the worst. She was trying to be loving and supportive, but for the life of her, she couldn't stop giving advice. She's one who likes to know everything that's going on and she wants to help everyone with their issues. After some small talk, she wanted to know how I was "really doing" so I vented about the finance discussion and a few other things and then she replies "I've been married a long time (I think 15 or 16 years and I've almost been married 10 so we're not talking a huge difference in life experience here, but I suppose that's not really the point), and it just seems that men need sex before they can open up emotionally and feel connected and women want to feel connected first. It's a difference that just has to be worked through". I think she was caught off guard when I told her I thought that was BS. She backed tracked by saying "well in my marriage..." She then told me how she talked to her other brother, who isn't really religious, to see if he thought T's level of drinking was dangerous. The brother happened to agree that it was, but seriously, what the heck?!? I've had maybe two conversations about the drinking with my SIL and I get that denial is strong. I was there for A LONG time. But how does she think she's going to help this situation by second guessing what I'm telling her I see? If my brother-in-law had said he thought it was a normal amount of drinking, and the new family line is that I'm blowing everything out of proportion, is that going to help anything? To take sides? I get where she's coming from, and I'm mostly over it, it's just flat out infuriating that people assume you haven't thought through all these issues. I don't know what she thinks I've been doing for the last TEN YEARS, but I think I just might have a little more perspective on my situation than she does. I ended up getting very defensive and kept giving her more extreme details about my situation until she finally shut-up and was out of answers. I think the final line was "well, frankly, it's hard to even want to feel connected when you know your husband would rather down a half liter of vodka alone at night than spend time with you, talk to you, or go to bed with you". Now I'm worried about what she's going to say to her brother and other family members. I hate the idea that they talk about us behind our backs, mostly because I feel like I need to be there to defend myself and T, to make sure things aren't taken out of context. But I suppose that's part of the territory when you open up to people about something like this.

I figure I'm going to have to write her a letter or talk to her about this conversation because I won't be able to handle something like that again. I hate making boundaries. I love boundaries, but I hate initially setting them. It's always awkward and there's always resistance. Blah.

On another note, my son was sick and we missed church this morning. I'm actually kind of grateful. It's the first morning in a long time that I haven't had to be be somewhere by 9am. I've had a chance to think and de-stress. We watched the Book of Mormon videos and I was impressed with the fact that Laman and Lemuel didn't believe that God would help them do as he wanted. I feel like that a lot these days.

But now, I'm currently buried under yards and yards and yards of tulle that I cut into strips for Halloween costumes.That seems like it would be annoying or stressful, but I'm enjoying the normalcy of it all. For the moment, I'm just your average mom who makes Halloween costumes for her kids. 

Do you ever wonder what dark secrets other families might be hiding? Is there really such a thing as normal, or is it a fantasy that's perpetuated that make us all feel like we've been seriously robbed of something?

If you don't hear from me later this week, assume I was buried alive under this mess.

Loss and dreams

A man I knew well as a kid, who has always been a close friend of my family's, lost his battle with leukemia last week. The night before he passed, the message was sent to T and I that he likely wouldn't survive the next 24 hours. It was sobering and heart breaking. T and I recalled stories we knew of this kind man and I went to bed with a heavy heart.

That night I dreamed T died in a car crash. He had slammed into a telephone pole and died instantly. This dream seemed tragically real and so looooooong. In this dream, I was a mess. I was attending different functions and would turn into a sobbing puddle on the floor and a friend or family member with me would explain to everyone around me that I had suffered a great loss and was grieving my husband. This went on for a while in the dream, but as it neared an end, I was starting to feel better. I started to get my feet back under me and was enjoying conversation with other men, and even thinking that my life might not be completely over after all. It was a weird dream. I don't usually have dreams that are a more or less fluid stream of events like this one was. I woke up completely emotionally drained. I felt like I had spent the night grieving the heaviest of emotions rather than sleeping solidly for 7 hours. It was awful. The only blessing was that for whatever reason, my kids weren't apart of the dream. I can't imagine how much worse that would have been.

I woke to the news that our friend had passed. I was sad for his family and sad for my parents who knew him so well. I was sad for his kids who are my age and for their kids who will miss out on really knowing their amazing grandpa.

It was a somber weekend. T attended the adult session of stake conference with me, which I found to be a really amazing meeting. Afterward we went out to dinner and T ordered a beer with his meal. He never used to do that. We don't go out often, and it feels like a slap in the face, since he spends most evenings at home drinking, that the one time we do go out, he can't put that desire aside for an hour, so we can enjoy our evening together. He views it as me restricting him, judging him, shaming him. It's awful.

We have had a long standing boundary in our home that if T acts out in addiction (which usually means drinking because I usually don't know if he's viewed any porn, and he doesn't tell me) that he sleeps on the couch. I never thought it bothered him. Actually, I don't think it did until I stated that it was what I wanted. Then, instead of becoming something he just did out of habit and comfort, it turned into me restricting and judging and shaming. It's not. It's about me feeling safe.

Anyway, to get to the point of all this, T has spent more and more evenings on the couch. It used to just be an issue when he was on second shift and now it's more than half the nights when he's on first shift too. I was going crazy. I was turning every evening into a tryout of sorts. I was attempting to get T's attention in all kinds of ways hoping that he'd choose me and our bed instead of the couch and alcohol. I lost out more than I won and it was crushing every time. The other night I tried to explain this dynamic to T. He didn't get it. I asked him not to sleep in our bed any more because I didn't like all the "guessing" each evening of what he was going to do. I didn't like that it was turning me into a codependent nut. I tired to not care. I tried to just let him make his choices and do my own thing, but it just wasn't working. I needed something more stable for the time being. He didn't get it. He thought I was restricting and judging and shaming. I'm just trying to feel safe.

T's been acting weird since this conversation but won't talk about it. So, I've resorted to my old snooping habits, with which I have a love/hate relationship. I just feel like I deserve to know what's going on and T never tells me anything. Anyway, T did about 20 minutes of internet searching last night about divorce. Specifically the effect it has on kids and specifically what it's like to divorce a Mormon woman. I saw this info this morning about 15 minutes before I had to leave for work. So I woke T up and confronted him, gently to my surprise, about whether or not he wanted a divorce or maybe he didn't want one but thought that it was inevitable. He denied it all. He said he didn't want one and doesn't think about it. I pleaded with him to open up, to be honest. To not be afraid to talk to me. Nothing, except for an apology for the "how to leave your wife and kids" google search he did a while back, which he knows I know about. I went to work shaken up and it took me the whole half hour drive to dry my eyes and compose myself.

Later, I peeked at a questionnaire he filled out for his therapist. (I actually feel pretty bad about this. This felt much more like a privacy violation than checking internet searches. In a normal world I would be completely opposed to this type of violation. But, there are serious decisions to be made and T doesn't talk to me. Not only does he not talk to me, he lies to my face A LOT. I need facts to make informed decisions. I don't know. Like I said, I'm definitely not proud of this one). There were a few statements in the questionnaire that stung quite a bit and some that opened some questions. But overall, it was acknowledging again how much pain he really is in. He was highlighting how unhappy he is and how lonely he sometimes feels. He just can't make the connection between his own choices and his feelings. He more or less blames it all on our church, and secondarily, on me.

I can't help but think of that awful dream as a warning. T doesn't realize he's driving over 100 mph straight for a telephone pole. He doesn't realize that the very nature of addiction is to cultivate loneliness and unhappiness. He doesn't realize he's the one making the choices. I don't want to lose my family. I don't want to lose my marriage. I will be devastated, I'm sure, if it comes to that. I will spend a long time as a metaphoric puddle on the floor. But one way or another, my life is going to get better. If T hits that pole and we have to kill this marriage, it will be heartbreaking, but my life will go on. If T chooses another path, it will be difficult and full of challenges. But I have faith and hope in a better life ahead. I can't stay where we've been. In fact, I've already left. T's questionnaire stated that his view of the future is "more of the same pain" I remember those days well. It's an awful place to be, and I can't stay there with him any more. I pray he realizes he's the one driving the car. I hope he can find it within himself to believe in and work toward a happy future. I'm already on my way.

My many loaves of bread

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During the Relief Society Broadcast last night, President Monson spoke of the mindfulness of our Savior. He reiterated that He is always there. There is nothing we can do to lose His love. No matter our trials, He is with us. He is there every step of the way. EVERY SINGLE STEP. He spoke specifically of a woman whose faith faltered during a difficult battle with cancer. She was reminded of her Savior's awareness and love for her by an unsolicited gift of a loaf of homemade bread.

Jesus Christ and His angels are guiding you. Especially when you are trying so desperately hard to do what is right, He is carving the path you are following. He is leading you by the hand and granting answer to your prayers. But, even when you've messed up, even when you feel you've given up, that it's too hard, that there's no way you can possibly do this any longer, that you don't have a single shred of faith left, HE IS STILL THERE. He is still loving and guiding and sustaining EVERY SINGLE STEP.

We just don't always feel it. Sometimes the fear is so strong. When the fear and anxiety and stress are too much, we can't feel our own faith. It's hard to hope, even in Him.

Sometimes I'm guilty of jealousy when it comes to those simple, obvious miracles, like that loaf of bread. I want my own tender mercies straight from heaven. Sometimes in the midst of my self-pity, I forget that I've already received more loaves of bread than can be counted.

September 2011
My life was difficult. My husband was job searching and had been for over a year. Our savings were draining since T had finished school and the GI Bill checks had long since stopped arriving in our bank account. I was working in a very stressful environment. T and I tag-teamed as parents, but never saw much of each other. We had three very young children and all the stress that comes with them. Something was very wrong, but I didn't know what. T had long since been less than active in the church. He enjoyed alcohol and I often felt alone and rejected because I was uncomfortable being around him when he choose to indulge, although he never seemed to act out of line. I hated it, but had learned to accept it. I never thought of it as a "problem". Nothing in our lives seemed particularly different, but SOMETHING was wrong and my stress, and T's stress, was mounting.

Then, one day while visiting my parents, my Dad told me he woke at 4 am with the impression that the Lord wanted to bless my husband. My Dad was uneasy with this "impression". He wasn't sure he was entitled to revelation for T, but decided that since he was T's father-in-law and at the time, also his stake president, he would do well to act on the inspiration. He told me he felt he need to give T a priesthood blessing. T's response, "If the Lord wants to bless me, who am I to turn that down". T received a priesthood blessing. Though I wanted to be there, my babies were acting up and I was unable to hear the blessing. This was extremely disappointing at the time - I felt I needed that blessing every bit as much as my husband, and in my pride, probably felt I would have appreciated it more. In hindsight, it was divine intervention. If I had heard the words of that blessing, I'd likely have been trying to micromanage T and his spiritual progression for the last two years, rather than following the path of letting go and letting God.

A few days after this experience, my dad mentioned to me, "I almost forgot, but I also felt impressed to tell you that the Lord is hearing your prayers". I literally burst into tears. Full on ugly-crying tears. I may have forgotten to breathe. Peace washed over my body. I knew what he was saying was true. My prayers were being heard. Literally two days prior I had never felt so alone. I pleaded the only tearful prayer I could muster, the same one I'd whispered less dramatically for the last several months and it went something like this, "Father, if you are there, hear me and help me. I don't know what to do and I can't do whatever this is, anymore". I was grateful for my dad. I felt what he said was true. BUT, I was a little put out. Why wasn't God answering me? Why did my Dad get my answers? Why couldn't I FEEL it when I prayed? That's when my I realized my fear was crowding out my faith. I was so consumed with stress and anxiety that I couldn't hear or feel any relief from God. But, He didn't stop trying to answer me. When it was clear I wasn't going to LET Him answer me, He sought out my dad.

Shortly after that blessing, T was offered a job he had been looking for for over a year. I assumed that this is what the Lord meant when he prompted my dad "I want to bless T". We were grateful, but I was not relieved of the stress I felt. Instead, the prospect of moving, the timing, the cost, the EVERYTHING, overwhelmed me.

In November 2011 I found out my husband had at some point over the last several years, or maybe since way before I knew him (I still don't really know the details) added pornography use to his list of coping strategies. I was broken.

Also, our water heater was broken. There was no money left to fix it. We tried every self fix we could think of and were dreading having to call a repair man. So, I added to my new prayer that went something like this, "Father, I know you are there. I know you hear me. But I still don't feel your answers. Please help me. I don't know what to do. Also, if you could help us with this water heater. I know it's so small. I know it's so insignificant when it compares to the needs of others. But it's just too much. Please help it to be fixed".

Within a week, my father-in-law, who is a contractor, was working at a home where the water heater was broken. This water heater was doing the SAME thing that my water heater was doing. The home owner called a repair man. He was there when my father-in-law was working, and he showed my father-in-law the simple, easy, FREE fix. My father-in-law came over and fixed my water heater in minutes.

December 2011 - April 2012
Any of you read Twilight? In the second book in the series the main character lives through several months where she exists, but not really. The time is marked in single-page chapters that are filled with nothing but the name of the month. That's what these months were for me. Even being able to quit my stressful job in January had little affect. I was being crushed by the weight of my burden. T and I argued or ignored each other. I acted out as a victim as the only response I knew. I desperately searched for help in dealing with the porn use. The church has been so direct about this problem, how was there not any help for someone in my situation? I read a few talks on divorce, on the dangers of pornography. Sometimes it helped. My only relief was the gym.

May-July 2012
Our 1040 sq ft, two bedroom, one bath home that housed five people was on the market. A depressed, rocky, unstable housing market. The stress I felt oozed out in everything I did and said. I have no idea what kind of parent I was at this point, I honestly don't remember. I'm sure this is also a blessing because it couldn't have been good. I prayed non-stop to be able to cope. After-all, I was still very much broken. We had to show our home three times. The first time, T was unavailable to help, but his mom, dad and sister came to my rescue. It literally would not have been possible to get my house in showing condition with three littles undoing everything in one room while I worked on another without help. The next two showings happened to be on the same day, T again was at work. Thankfully, my Mom was able to watch my kids. I survived and we got an acceptable offer on our house within two weeks.

There were a series of issues with our old home that threatened to derail the sale for months. We struggled to find a new home and were homeless for 2 weeks during the transition. Except we weren't, because T's family graciously took us in a let us park a HUGE u-haul of all our earthly belongings in their backyard. We were able to move into a beautiful new 4 bedroom, 2.5 bathroom home with room to spare.

December 2012
I found the hope and healing forum. An entire year after I started looking. I actually started to find hope and healing. The program is aptly named. The significance of this twelve month search is that it was the very end of November 2012 when I realized my husband had a significant drinking problem. I was so hurt, so literally crushed by the porn, that I didn't notice how perilous the alcohol use had become. If I had found the forum or some other 12-step help sooner, I like to think, but don't know for sure if, I still would have been made aware of T's other addiction. I still don't know all the reasons for why things happened in exactly the order and time frame they did, but I know it was all in the Lord's hands. He has a specific timetable. I'm not broken anymore. I found help. And before I did, I was sustained, I was able to cope. I made it through, by the grace of God, all those months, before the help came.

Tomorrow
I will start a new job. A lot of stress, and a lot of worry were poured into the decision of whether to go back to work. A month ago I had given up, and decided to put the decision on hold. I got on the computer to check the forum and before I could click on anything, a website I had book marked popped up without me clicking on anything. It was the employment page for a near-by school district. It was weird, that this website popped up all on it's own. I took it for a sign and looked to see if there was anything available that would be a fit for me. There was. I applied. A week later I was called for an interview. I went, and was asked back for a second and was hired on the spot. I was torn about taking the job. I prayed. As soon as I made the decision, everything fell into place and it felt LIBERATING. I'm not trapped. I didn't even know I felt trapped.

T will have to take on a lot more responsibility at home, but he actually said, "I could use more structure in my life". I have hope for my marriage these days. But I'm grateful to know the Lord is guiding my every step. I'm grateful to recognize the many miracles that have happened. I'm sure there were many more that I missed along the way.

I'm certain now that the blessing God wanted for T was much more than a new job. He is offering salvation. He is offering freedom from the chains of addiction. T has to choose the help. He has to choose to accept that AMAZING gift. None of this is happening quickly, but it's happening. Our family is being blessed and everything seems to be aligning to give T and myself the opportunity to change. We simply have to CHOOSE to allow His grace to change us. I have made that choice. I'm still daily making mistakes, but I don't give up. I pray T will make the same choice too. But I know, ultimately, my happiness, my salvation, doesn't depend on it.