The Next Big Step

I wasn’t sure what to call this post. “Time to take out the trash?” “The reaping?”

A few months ago I filed for divorce. It took a few years to get here. It hasn't been pretty. But it is what it is, and I'm so glad I finally got to this point. It's time to move forward.
When I was working out in the yard today I felt like writing this post. It's been over a year since I've blogged here, but I'm letting go of the perfectionism (as much as I can) and just writing from my gut. I don't have anyone here to please.
~

There are some mini rosebushes out front. Ever since we moved in they haven’t been doing so well. I tried a few things to care for them, but then I discovered they were diseased, and the only thing to do was to pull them out. They were infested with a disease that apparently stays in the soil no matter what you do.

Before I realized all this, my first response was to turn to the interwebs. I asked, “how can I save these? I don’t want to pull them out. Help.”. The advice came from all over - and the contradictory suggestions were abundant.

“You can treat it. It would be a tragedy to pull those out, you need to do whatever you can to save them.”

“Dig them up. Burn them. You can’t ever plant roses there again.”

For awhile I decided to do what I used to do best. I ignored the problem and told myself I’d figure out something, or maybe they’d come around on their own. Then I tried fertilizing them. Other times I’d spray them, and if they died I did my best. I was still ignoring what seemed to be the only solution - accepting there was nothing I could do and they weren’t getting better. Every time I walked by them it was a nagging reminder that something had to be done, but I didn’t want to be the one to do it. I didn’t want to be the one to give up, to say there was nothing left worth saving. But looking back, I needed that time of indecisiveness. Of discomfort. I needed it to bring me to a point of action. I just needed time.

Because one day I was ready.

I was done letting these plants steal my peace. I was done with it all. So I grabbed a pick-ax and some gloves and headed outside, in the 95 degree heat.
All the reasons not to do it came up.

Maybe I should wait until a better time to do it. (There’s never a good time.)

The kids would be so upset. (They were. But I knew it was still for the best, and someday they’ll understand.)

It’s going to hurt. (Oh but it does. But unfortunately you can’t avoid pain. And the pain can take you places you couldn’t get to any other way.)

So forward I went.

I started to take a few awkward swings. Sometimes I missed completely. Sometimes I hurt my hand. I started to sweat. I was hot, tired, and this was hard. At one point it became hard to breathe and I had to put my pick-ax down, step inside to catch my breath, and have a glass of water. I slowed down my breathing. I gave myself time. I knew I was going back out - there was no rush, I could take my time doing this. But I wanted it over so much. I wanted to be on the other side of this. So I headed back outside to start again.

As I dug out most of the roots, until there were a few strands hanging on, I grabbed hold to pull it the rest of the way out and it fought HARD. I grabbed thorns, I strained my back pulling as it held on with everything it had. I let my anger fuel me onward for awhile. Sometimes it was all I had so I held onto it like it was my lifeblood.

Doesn’t he, I mean “it” know I need this?! Doesn’t it realize how hard I worked to try and save it, to no avail? It was time to take back my peace. My happiness. To make room for something new and healthy. Something that can thrive and bloom. I never wanted this. I’m just doing the best I can with what I have, after having tried every thing in my power to hold on. The time for explanation was long gone.

As I pulled it up the diseased roots crumbled and tiny insects infesting it poured out. Angry, disturbed, wanting to stay comfortable in their hollow home. Wanting to go on pretending everything was fine. Wanting anything other than to acknowledge their path would end in destruction. Anything other than letting go of their destructive lives.

With a triumphant release of my breath I tossed the diseased root into the garbage can and hauled it out to the curb. I did it. As I looked at the gaping holes in the soil, I knew that from an outside perspective it would look worse, a big, gaping wound in a pile of weeds. To most it might seem that despite the weeds, it would have looked better to have the diseased roses sitting there instead of holes. But they also wouldn’t have noticed before that the troubled roses were rotting, and their spotted leaves were falling off. The shoots growing fast and riddled with thorns but no blooms. And they would never have seen the infestation growing beneath the soil, silently eating away at any beauty that might have been left behind.

It was a lot harder than it looks.

But I knew. I knew that there was more work to do, it would just have to happen over time. Now that the roses were gone I could work to start pulling the weeds. Once the soil was fresh and whole again I would lay down a barrier to prevent any new weeds from growing up. Rich soil would be added on top. I would place new growth in the soil and nurture it to see what grows best. I’d learn as I go, and keep building something new and beautiful, until eventually you wouldn’t see what used to be there - diseased, life sucking chaos.

Although I knew it would take awhile to get to the new normal, I smiled to myself as I thought of all the possibilities. I would take steps towards this new beginning, I already was taking those steps! It was okay that it wouldn’t happen right away. I knew it was worth it. I decided to stop there for now, leaving the big gaping holes and weeds in all their terrible glory. It was a big step to take and I needed to rest and replenish before making plans for the future. I’d learned it’s okay to care for ourselves along the way, to not expect more than we can give.

I took a slow, intentional breath, and released so much more than the air in my lungs. I felt peace. Beautiful, previously elusive peace. I headed inside to recover from the work.

I knew I’d need to be ready for the next step - there was more work to do and I was going to need everything I had to finish it. The worst certainly wasn’t over. But I had a new goal in mind, and I was going to get there no matter what. I would stumble as I ran toward it, and that thought made me cringe, but I’d stumbled before. Besides, I would much rather crawl my way towards joy than sit with the daily reminder that there was no where to go if things stayed the same.

I never know what to say at the end of these. I always feel pressured to have some thoughtful, inspiring last few words to part with. But this time I really don’t.

I’m just so over it and ready to be almost anywhere other than here.

~Sway

Such a long road...and now I'm saying NOT THIS

I've been MIA for awhile. Looking back I can see that things are not only NOT getting better, they've gotten worse.

I'm looking for work. I'm getting my ducks in a row. I'm taking steps forward.

Hard. Scary as hell. But so so necessary.

A dear friend shared this post the other day. It resonated with me so deeply, so thoroughly, and I know it's time to do what it takes to meet my needs. I'm still terrified. I'm still unsure how to do it. I'm still MAD AS HELL heartbroken that it's come to this.

But when I see little glimpses of a happy Sway, dancing under the moon in all her perfectly imperfect, beautiful, FREE glory, loving her children, fulfilling her dreams, making decisions without someone constantly in her ear TELLING HER NO and trying to control the very air she breathes because they can't stand to face the music on their own....it makes it just a little bit easier. It puts a little more fire in my bones.

I am worth love and respect. I am enough just the way I am. I am ready to seek happiness with God by my side, nudging me on. I know He is with me. I know He wants me to be happy. I know He'll help me find a way.

Cue the southern momma pleading "Lord, give me strength!".

Cautiously Optimistic

Remember how I talked about the roller coaster here?

Well right now we are at the top of the coaster. Things are good, really good. I am just enjoying it and living in the moment(thanks to a lovely friend makemyburdenlight suggesting it).

This is the point where I would give a big sigh of relief and say to myself "whew.....we made it". He has seen the light. I've always wanted to attend one of those churches, the kind with a pastor who yells and proclaims and shouts hallelujah's from the pulpit. It is in this precise moment when I would hear that voice in my head shouting for joy, "Hallelujah! He has seen the LIGHT!".

I always thought once he seemed to understand something important, no, VITAL, to our recovery as a couple that everything would be better. Still difficult mind you, I mean, there was no ignoring that triggers for either of us, whether the pain of him still struggling with lust, or me remembering past betrayals. But I thought that if we were a team, united, then the hard part was behind us.

But then the roller coaster would plummet and everything would be tossed upside down again.

So today I am using a different approach.

I don't assume this is the last time. I don't even expect it is. And that my friends, is so freeing. Life changing! Because then I am not controlled by what he does or doesn't do.

Does that mean it won't hurt if/when he loses empathy? No.

Does that mean I don't hope like heck that this is the last time we go through this roller coaster? No.

I still hope for change that lasts. I still pray for it, but I don't base all my happiness on whether it lasts or not.

I am Cautiously Optimistic. I hope we can remain a team through all the future challenges. I hope he will remember how to hold my pain, how to listen to me, and not just try to "fix" the problem.

But I don't expect that the change will last. And I continue to prepare and work my recovery so that when that roller coaster plummets I am ready. So it doesn't drop out of nowhere while I scramble to put on my seat belt.

This is where boundaries come in. This is where self care comes in. This is why I have my support network in place, with women who I can call, text, vox, email, telegram....when I need them. Which is most of the time when I am awake.

I am reminded that my husband is not God. I love his support, love, and understanding. But I am learning not to need it. Because I can't hand over control of my happiness to someone who is human and makes mistakes. I trust my life with God, who knows all, sees all, understands all. He alone has the power to provide me with complete safety.

I want my husband to find true recovery. I want these changes in him to last. I take each day with him on my side as a gift. An opportunity to breathe. Take lots of hot baths while he watches the kids. Let him buy my favorite treats, and vent all the pain and fear and hurt I am feeling while he is able to listen. I find happiness in this day, as it is, and try not to look back on how pissed I would be if I read this after d day 14 months ago. (Seriously, I would be majorly pissed)

So thank you my friends for reading. Thanks for giving me a space where I can be heard. Where I am allowed to learn and grow and accept myself. I needed it.

You feelin' strong my friend?

Feeling good with some strength today. A boundary has been broken. Now I'm getting past the painful part of that initial detachment. When space is much needed, it always feels like climbing over a barbed wire fence. I'm bloody and desperate to get on the other side, and it hurts. But once I'm over, and my wounds have been properly tended to by reaching out to WONDERFUL friends(most of whom I have never met in person), the peace sets in. Then the hysterical happiness seizes my heart and I feel a burst of strength. 

I run through the meadows like a crazy person who has escaped from an asylum, "I'm free, I'm free!!!!!".

So today I'm feeling strong. Loving this song by Ingrid Michaelson.

"Afterlife"

When the world is breaking down around you
Taking everything that you know
What you didn't know
Is that we can go forever if we want to
We can live inside of a moment
The one that we own

You and me we got this
You and me we're beautiful, beautiful

We all, we all, we're gonna be alright
We got, we got, we always got the fight in us
We all, we all, we're gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow 'cause we're the afterlife

Living like you're dying isn't living at all
Give me your cold hands put them on my heart
Raise a glass to everyone who thinks
They'll never make it through this life
To live a brand-new start

You and me we got this
You and me we're beautiful, beautiful

We all, we all, we're gonna be alright
We got, we got, we always got the fight in us
We all, we all, we're gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow 'cause we're the afterlife
'Cause we're the afterlife
'Cause we're the afterlife

Every time I close my eyes I hear your favorite song
Telling me not to run, not to worry anymore
I can hold on tight to nothing better than the rest
So it's now or never more

We all, we all, we're gonna be alright
We got the fight in us
We all, we all, we're gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow 'cause we're the afterlife

We all, we all, we're gonna be alright
We got, we got, we always got the fight in us
We all, we all, we're gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow 'cause we're the afterlife
'Cause we're the afterlife
'Cause we're the afterlife

We all, we all, we're gonna be alright
We got, we got, we always got the fight in us
We all, we all, we're gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow 'cause we're the afterlife

A Pool of Muck

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I wake up in a pool of muck. 

I'm up to my waist in it. 

I try to come to my senses, and I feel bombarded. It smells putrid, it feels slimy, it covers my arms, my hair, it's slathered on my face. Once I take in my surroundings, I remember how I got here. 

My husband brought me to the muck, and asked me to help him wade through it. 

I look around, where is he? I remember that we had been digging through the muck together, looking for something precious that we lost. I can't remember what it is, but it is something I miss. I want it back. I think I NEED it. But I realize I'm looking alone. 

Wait. Why am I looking alone? I realize my husband was the one who lost it. On a day with a heartbreaking new beginning one year ago, I found out he had thrown it in the muck. "Why did you throw it in there?!?!?!". -enter addiction- He asked if I would help him find it. "Stay with me, please. Join me in the muck. We'll find it together."

I reluctantly agreed. 

Pretty soon though, I noticed something that bothered me. I had been expecting him to jump in the muck first, to lead the way. He lost it after all, shouldn't he be the one responsible for finding it?

But that isn't how it all went down. Somehow I ended up jumping in the muck, convincing him to jump in too, and help me look for the precious(gollum reference, sorry, hope it's not ruining the mood here). 

I was the one doing the heavy lifting. I didn't really like it, and found myself wondering why I was doing it in the first place. Maybe finding this precious thing wasn't worth all of this. It certainly didn't feel like it was worth it if he wasn't even willing to look with me. 

Sometimes I'd be wading through and he'd be right there with me, digging and digging. Sometimes he'd stand in it, but pretend he wasn't surrounded in filth, and couldn't understand why I was so upset about it. Other times he wouldn't even be in the pit, he'd be off doing something else and leave me in it, all alone. 

Then one day I decided I didn't have to stay in the pit. If he wasn't going to look, I wasn't going to look either. I had other needs to take care of. I had children to feed, a house to clean, happiness to find. I still really really wanted to have the precious back. I knew it meant so much to me. But I needed to know he was willing to find the precious himself. I couldn't look with him until I felt secure in his commitment to finding it. 

So I left the pit. I got out, wiped off the muck, and did my best to wash it off. Bits of it still stick to me, but I'm okay with that for now. I know it will take time to rid myself of the muck. 

He didn't react well to me leaving the pit. 

"Where did you go? Why aren't you helping me? I've been working so hard to wade through the muck and find the precious but it's never good enough for you. You are giving up on me even though I've been trying so hard."

It was hard not to go back and wade through the muck(it still is). It is hard not to feel guilty for leaving him there by himself. But I didn't throw the precious in there, And I can still choose to help him find it if I want to. But I can also choose not to help him. I am not a bad person for wanting to stay out of the muck. 

So for now I am letting him look by himself. Hopefully he will look hard. But that is his choice and I can't choose it for him. 

So I'm staying out of the muck for now, and maybe I'll want to help him tomorrow, or maybe I never will. 

But I know one thing for sure, if I ever want to help him look in the muck, I'll use a fishing pole first instead of jumping right in. 

Stand for the right

The hubs came home today seeking empathy. Empathy I was unable to give. 

He's been looking for a new job lately. One that doesn't require him to be states away working for months out of the year(the next scheduled trip is 3 months long!). He doesn't like his job anymore. I don't like his job. 

It doesn't help that when he would stay away on those work trips he would sit in the hotel room at night and watch porn on cable(which we've never had). 

It doesn't help that on those trips he works with filthy men who drink, go to strip clubs, and many have wives and girlfriends at home. And these same men talk about all the local "massage" parlors they will visit when they get home. 

And it doesn't help that they talk about it at work and tell obscene jokes on a regular basis. 

But what is really bothering me right now, what I really can't be empathetic about, is my husbands lack of action when he is surrounded by the filth. Even if that action was praying for help, asking others what they would do, something! Just not acceptance.

On his last trip away, we would check in and he'd tell me about another day of trying to avoid overhearing about their "escapades". He would try and leave if it was a conversation he was overhearing, or put on headphones, and every once in a while change the subject. But he has never made his beliefs known. Or complained to HR. And if they specifically tell a joke to him, he has always stayed and listened, or even laughed(which he feels guilty about later) because he is afraid of what they'll think of him. 

So when he came home today talking about how his boss was the one telling a joke about homosexuality, he wanted empathy for having to deal with that. 

I know it is hard to stand up to others. I know in the moment you panic and say or do things you aren't proud of. But my trauma? She doesn't really care. 

She only knows the searing pain of having a husband with a porn addiction who lied to her for years. 

She knows that her husband will sit and listen to verbal porn and expects her to just accept it because it would be too hard to say something, do something. 

And she knows that she feels unsafe. That he isn't safe. Because if he doesn't have the strength to say "hey man, I'm not into that stuff', then will he really resist the pressure to join those men on their hooker binges? (A little strong, I know, but valid.)

Last time we went through this I fell apart. I needed him to see why this hurt. Needed him to do something to spare me this pain. 

Today I feel strength. Today, I journal it all out like crazy, I reach out to my WoPA friends. I briefly let him know that it isn't okay with me, and I will detach for my own safety and sanity. Then I (do my best) to surrender it, and start making plans for how to handle the next trip(babysitters, housecleaner once in a while) he is on instead of insisting to myself that I can do it all alone. 

So I am "standing for the right" for me. Regardless of whether he can. 

And I may or may not have left the lyrics to this primary song up on the computer before he used it today. 

Our prophet has some words for you,

And these are the words:

"Be true, be true."

At work or at play,

In darkness or light,

Be true, be true,

And stand for the right.

What's there to think about?

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Life has felt like a roller coaster lately. More specifically, my marriage has felt like a roller coaster lately. Normally I like roller coasters. But not this one. I'm ready to get off this roller coaster. After the 1,245,689 time around the track things get old. Not such a good time anymore. 

One minute the roller coaster is up and there are acts of devotion, warm fuzzies abound, and declarations of a firm resolve to stay committed to spending the rest of his life proving he wants to repair the damage done. 

Then the roller coaster plummets, and we're back to selfishness, entitlement, and indignation. The firm resolve crumbles(or maybe it was never really a firm resolve in the first place?) and he's back to talking about his "rights" and what he thinks my recovery should look like.
When the coaster is up he says "I have hurt you and will do whatever you need to feel safe". 

When the coaster is down I ask him to sleep on the couch and he replies with "I will have to think about it". 

Which leads me to my question, "what's there to think about?"

I have been wounded. I have been hurt. When you betray someone you love, and you are able to offer them safety and peace, there isn't anything to think about. You give it to them. Freely. 

I am able to see what I need more clearly now, and ask for it. I have also learned that my boundaries are so important for my sanity. 

So if I ask him to sleep on the couch and he needs to think about it, or he says no, I might still get upset, but I don't need to beg or plead with him to understand why I need this. I will go and sleep on the couch myself(so far I haven't had to). I don't need him to agree or give me safety.

I'll go find my own dang safety. And spend some time thinking about what my next step will be. Because I won't live like this forever. I am going to take care of Sway. She is patient, kind, forgiving, and loving. But she isn't a pushover. She won't be walked all over and just accept that such is life. 

So pray hard Sway. Pray to know God's will. Pray for God to show you when it is time to endure, and for the strength to do it. But also pray to know when enough is enough, and to have the strength to walk away from that roller coaster if that day ever comes.