Tag: hurt

life

My Ex is Dead

A Graceful Catastrophe

Last night, my ex died. Not literally, though he is dead to me now. Any last hope I had that somewhere deep inside he’s a good person, is also dead.

Yesterday, I was served with papers from his lawyer stating he did not agree with the calculations ordered by the courts. He believed I was lying about my income and, therefore, is fighting me on support payments.

Here’s an interesting story for you.

Shortly after I started dating my ex, he was arrested for a DUI. He spent a night in jail, where I had to bail him out. He lost his job. He lost everything. And, while our relationship was still quite new at this point, I stood by his side. I lifted him up. I supported him in every single way a loving partner ought to have supported her significant other.

This DUI followed him for years. For quite some time, he had to take whatever crappy job he could, slowly working to build his career back up. We had our daughter and I managed teaching full time, taking care of every detail of managing a home and family, and raising our daughter, almost completely by myself. So that he could focus on rebuilding his career.

Today, he has a job where he makes over $10,800 each month (he actually texted me and corrected me on this) This month, I’ll make right around $800. I typically average right around $2000 per month.

In our divorce, I didn’t come after his retirement, though I could have. I didn’t come after him for many, many things I very well could have. I only requested to follow the court’s calculated support payments. The court agreed. And so did he, signing all the papers.

His income today is largely due to me – his girlfriend, then fiancée , then wife – supporting him, helping him rebuild the life he lost, through his own irresponsible actions. When we met, he was tens of thousands of dollars in debt. His credit score was embarrassing. He made extremely poor financial decisions.

I stood by his side. I helped him rebuild.

When he started punching me with his words, I still stood by his side. I helped him rebuild.

When he tells people “his side” of the story, he tells them how, y the end of our marriage, we had sex quite infrequently and that I rarely kissed him.

This is fact. I do not deny losing passion for him.

He treated me like garbage. Why would I choose to be intimate with somebody who spent much of his time insulting me? See, what people don’t know is that while I was fighting an extremely debilitating illness that gave me chronic fatigue and incredible pain, while teaching full time (where I had four preps – if you’re a teacher, you understand what that workload looks like), while managing the home, while raising our daughter, all with as much of a smile on my face as I could muster, he was out, building his career.

That was his focus. And I supported him.

Well, that, and treating me like garbage the next day for falling asleep with our daughter while putting her to bed rather than spend time in the evening with him. Falling asleep was never a choice. And I dealt with immense guilt for not having the ability to stay awake and spend time with him.

Rather than be compassionate and understanding, however, he would attack me first thing in the morning the next day, serving up an onslaught of words that felt like punches to the gut. His words were so ugly that they literally affected me physically.

And then, another new day started – again.

Where everything was repeated.

This happened for years and years.

I came to believe that I was not enough. I was not worthy. No matter what efforts I attempted to put forth, they were laughed at because, in his eyes, it wasn’t ever enough. To him, I showed no effort. He only saw what he wanted to.

Meanwhile, I was his punching bag and still tried to be a good wife, taking care of everything I could so that he could focus on rebuilding his career.

I took the almost daily verbal and emotional abuse. Why? I have no idea. Guilt, I guess. And believing I deserved it. If I could’ve been healthy enough to be a good wife, then he wouldn’t have had to be so angry towards me. If he could still be living in Florida, he wouldn’t have to be so resentful towards me, slinging his anger at me like daggers cutting through my heart.

We tried marriage counseling. The therapist tried outlining to my ex why I was who I was in our marriage. For a minute, I thought he got it…he didn’t.

I finally found a doctor who listened to me. After exploratory surgery, it was found that I had one of the worst cases of endometriosis he had ever seen. And he was not a young doctor. We decided to do a less invasive surgery, one where the doctor predicted I’d be healthy and good to go for approximately the next 3 years.

I felt great for about 3 months before all my previous symptoms started to come back. I dealt with them, getting progressively sicker for the next 3 or so months. In June, I went back to my doctor, because I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Everything with my endo was so severe, that I was scheduled for a hysterectomy just 6 days later. During surgery, it was discovered that my appendix was so diseased that the doctor was in shock that it hadn’t ruptured. I had an emergency appendectomy, too.

After surgery, I didn’t take any pain medicine. Once the pain meds from the surgery wore off, I didn’t take anymore again – for days.

The pain from that surgery was less than the chronic pain I’d been dealing with for the previous 5 or so years. So much less that I actually drove myself home from my hysterectomy and was hiking (miles) in Utah (on a family camping trip) just 11 days later.

This was a little over 2 years ago. That was also less than 1 year before my ex decided cheating on my was the way to go. Our marriage was shit from years of stress, years of beating me down for not being good enough, and he gave it less than one year after I was finally healthy to try to work on us.

He never worked on us.

Three or so months after he started cheating on me (unbeknownst to me), we went on a “beautiful family vacation” to Anguilla. There are a lot of Europeans who vacation in Anguilla and one woman’s standard of beach attire was much different than mine.

I knew my ex was watching her every move that day. What I didn’t know was that when he took a picture of his daughter and I, it was actually a picture of this beautiful, naked woman who was standing in the background.

He had such little respect for me that he didn’t even realize this was a dirty and disrespectful thing to do. When we came home, we went on a camping trip with a friend of mine and her family. We started talking about our trip to Anguilla and my ex asked the husband, “Hey, do you want to see a picture of my beautiful family on the beach?” He, laughing quite jovially, pulled up the picture, and then zoomed in to the real focus, of the naked woman in the background.

Guys, this was my life. Disrespecting me daily, womanizing, devaluing, and de-emphasizing my worth.

We were together for almost 11 years.

Recently I found an old journal with an entry dated approximately 4 months into our relationship. The first sentence is, “The words you just said to me stung as though you just smacked me across the face.”

When he shares his side of the the story, where I didn’t show him physical attention, please understand my side, too. For our entire relationship, I supported him so that he could rebuild his life professionally, all while managing the home and raising our daughter, teaching, and, for at least the last 6 years of our marriage, dealing with a chronic illness so severe that the pain 24 hours post major surgery felt like a literal walk in the most beautiful park.

When he hired a lawyer to contradict the court’s decision on support payments, he finally died to me. I finally see him for exactly who he is. He never once valued me as a partner, oftentimes making derogatory remarks regarding my teacher’s salary, amongst other things, and chose to focus on the fact that I didn’t take care of his physical needs.

Day after day, year after year, I was reminded that I was not enough. I was treated like garbage. I was reminded that I was an awful wife, almost daily, for the vast majority of our relationship.

And yet, I supported him so that he could rebuild. I took care of every detail so he didn’t have to worry about anything outside of building his professional life again. And I did so, for the most part, with a smile on my face.

He chose to end our marriage by cheating on me with random women across the country, then coming home on the weekends to remind me just how awful of a wife I was, and sit in therapy sessions that he later told his mistresses all about. He chose to stop working on our marriage less than one year after I was finally healthy.

Through sickness and health were not vows he embraced. Looking back, what he showed me was not love. And if I were gracious enough to define it as such, it surely was not unconditional love. He only treated me well when he was on the receiving end of physical attention. I was barely a human to him, much less a valued partner.

And he’s showing me that again.

I am not valued.

My efforts in managing all the details in order to support him from being in a position of being in jail and losing everything to where he now makes well over $10,000 per month (oh, and that does not include any bonuses he will be receiving), is non-existent to him.

He threw this family away. He threw me away. And he continues to devalue me.

Well, I am a changed woman and will no longer give him the power and control it takes to feel devalued. Sure, last night when I received the letter from his lawyer, I lost my ever loving mind. I was betrayed once again. His actions showing me that all he does is purposely hurt and destroy others – even the woman that helped to bring him to where he is today.

So, he’s dead. His actions will no longer have any impact on me. He is completely inconsequential to my life. I agreed to his lawyer’s request, following the court mandated amounts, because he is not worth any more effort. I could absolutely hire my own lawyer and make out like a bandit, as my documentation supports a lower amount than what I even thought I made. I could probably also sue him for the emotional and verbal abuse. I could hurt him financially to where he would regret his decision to hire this lawyer of his.

I could.

But that would mean putting energy into a human that no longer exists to me.

So I won’t.

Entitled? Call it what you will. I earned that money, too. He would not have the opportunity he currently has if it weren’t for me and my support over the last 11 years. I worked hard for the income and it is just as much mine as it is his. I know my value and fully understand it, even if he doesn’t. He won’t. He never did.

So, this is the last is the energy I will give to a man that is now dead to me.

Because my ex died last night. And I am finally released from any hope of the person I thought he could be. Because he doesn’t exist to me anymore.

When a person dies, he can’t hurt you anymore. I am finally free.

life, love

Eating Crow

A Graceful Catastrophe

A few days ago, I was talking with a friend that has this ability to call me out, saying all the difficult things that I need to hear, yet doing so in such a way that makes me pause, rather than defend (for the most part). I definitely don’t want to hear these observations, or answer the questions that inevitably follow, but, the truth of the matter is, in order to really grow, I must listen. And, in the kindest of ways, he makes me question all the things I thought to be true about not only me, but also my past.

After some hardcore self-reflection, I realized I have been a pretty shitty person to my ex. And not just in the last 7 months since I found out about his infidelity, but for years.

I lacked intention.

I lacked compassion and grace.

I reacted to his poor behavior, validating my response because I was a victim. A victim of all the things I’ve written about in previous blogs.

But, you know what? Just because somebody shits on you doesn’t mean you shit on them back. That’s just not being a good human. There’s no validating poor behavior. No matter what.

For my own reasons, I chose to treat my ex poorly. I withdrew. Any affection I’d had for him diminished day by day. I started to only see him in a negative light. I focused on all of his faults. And when I spoke to those closest to me, I complained about him. Incessantly. All I saw were the awful things about him. That was all I chose to see. So, naturally, I convinced myself that my poor behavior towards him was understandable. It was excusable. My awful behavior was valid.

Sure, we all know by now that he did not treat me well. However, I allowed myself to play the role of victim – for years. And have continued to do so for the last 7 months.

Was I a victim? Yep. Did it mean that I had to define myself as that? Nope. But I did. Unconsciously, sure, but I did. Right up until Friday night. Until my friend smacked me with that info.

Oof. That didn’t sit well with me at first. I immediately tried to protest. “But I only behaved that way because he…” No, no, no! That’s not okay. It was time for me to own my actions.

So I bit my tongue. Literally. And I sat there in silence, continuing to listen to what he was saying. I processed this info longer than anything else we talked about that night.

I lived in a place of constant hurt. And anger. And I held onto those emotions tighter with every breath I took.

And when someone’s words and actions constantly hurt, there are some defense mechanisms that have to be put into place for survival.

Or so I thought.

So, that’s what I did. I began to shut down. To be perfectly honest with myself, and, I suppose, you, my ex eventually ceased to exist to me. Over time, he wasn’t someone I fought for or tried to engage with. I loved him, and at the same time, I didn’t really care about him. And I gave myself all the valid reasons for my actions.

  • “Because he hurts me.”
  • “Because he doesn’t care about my feelings. Or my job. Or my day. Or (insert reason here).
  • “Because he doesn’t respect me.”

And guess what? It showed. It showed that he was an inconsequential human in my life.

He felt it.

I’m not sure which happened first. Did I shut down first or did he? Who shit on whom first?

Honestly, it doesn’t matter. We both turned away from one another. And we both convinced ourselves that it was okay. Because of that ugly place of being hurt. Both of us just wanted to feel love from the other. And neither of us was receiving it.

We were stuck in a negative loop so deeply entrenched in anger and hurt, stubbornness and frustration, that we both made decisions, some deliberate and intentional, others lacking complete intentionality, that drove a very solid wedge between us.

Let me be clear – hindsight is 20/20. In the moment, I never saw this. I actually didn’t see any of this until that conversation a few days ago. But the very ugly truth is that, over time, I came to care so little about him, and his feelings, that I would live my life with absolutely zero regard towards how my actions would affect him. He became insignificant and unimportant in my life.

Guys, we were married. I was his wife. And, though it was unintentional, I was, at the very least, a big giant jerk to him and at the very most, an astonishingly cold-hearted and inconsiderate human.

Just because it was unintentional doesn’t make it okay. Sure, I didn’t set out in the morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I was going to hurt him that day. I also didn’t set out that morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I would fill his life with happiness that day.

Truly loving somebody else is placing their happiness above your own. Seeing them happy should make you happy.

I didn’t care about his happiness. Because he didn’t care about mine.

Goodness, how wrong that thinking is!

Look at what it did, the outcome of that thought process…and to so many lives.

For the last 7 months, and for years before that, even if I thought that perhaps my actions could hurt him, I didn’t care. If it was something I wanted to do, I’d do it. His reaction to my actions weren’t my fault.

But, in a lot of ways, they were.

It wasn’t that I would purposely do something to hurt him. I’m not consciously evil. It’s that I wouldn’t think twice and consider that my actions could perhaps hurt him. He was that inconsequential to me.

Ouch.

Time for this incredibly inconsiderate person to eat crow.

Should he have betrayed me for almost a year? Of course not. Is it my fault? Of course not.

Were we operating from a place of love towards one another? Of course not.

My happiness didn’t matter to him. His happiness didn’t matter to me. Neither one of us mattered to the other.

Again…ouch.

I see the wife I was to him. I see it now, at least. Operating from a place of hurt and anger is simply a terrible way to live. And just because his behavior was poor and it did cause me pain and damage, it still doesn’t excuse my shitty behavior. I’m a grown woman capable of making sound decisions. I’m intuitive and bright. I engage in self-reflection. Yet, I chose to play the role of victim and react with venom, adding to the toxic environment. And then I justified it.

Not anymore.

My friend encouraged me to try to finally forgive. And not just my ex. But to take an honest look at my role in this and then forgive myself. He told me that it was an absolutely essential step in my ability to move forward. In the moment of that conversation, I probably looked at him like he was crazy.

But you know what? He’s right. So I have. I am. I’ve already begun to let my hurt go. I’ve come to terms with all the circumstances that have ultimately brought me here, to today, and to writing this blog.

If I want to move forward and continue to grow, if I want to be a positive and loving example to my daughter, and if I want to have any chance at having a healthy relationship in the future, I have to be a good human. And I have to face the realities that, during my marriage and right up until this last Friday night, I was not. And I have to not only forgive him, but I have to forgive myself.

So today, I am at a place where I have hope. I have hope that we can be civil to one another. I have hope that we can respect one another. I have hope that we will be supportive and kind to our future new spouses. I have hope that, someday, all 4 of us will be incredible parents to our marvelous little girl.

I have hope that, from this day forward (or, at least, most of the days that will follow), I will make the daily choice to walk through this life with purposeful intention, acting from a place filled with grace, and of love, which is once again filling my heart.

Crow has never tasted so good.

life, Uncategorized

90 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

As I write this, it’s two days shy of 3 months since I received an email that completely and irrevocably changed my world. It’s been exactly 90 days.

When I left my first husband in January of 2008, a lot happened in those first 3 months. A lot of fun was had and life was carefree. Then, by early April, I was in an exclusive relationship with future ex-husband #2.

I can’t even begin to imagine trying to be in a relationship at this point. I mean, come on, let’s be real… I can’t think of ever being exclusive with someone again, but for sure not after 3 months! I was with my first husband from late 1998, when we’d started dating, until early 2008. Almost 10 years together. And just a bit more than three, short, insignificant months later, I was already in another relationship.

Ex-husband #2 and I were together almost exactly 11 years. I didn’t choose to leave him so the way this is going down is significantly different than with #1. My feelings, my heart, my everything, really, is completely changed. The way I perceive life has been catastrophically altered. After #1, I still believed in love. I still saw the world through a set of beautifully romantic lenses. Perhaps that’s why it only took me about 3 months to be in a relationship again.

There’s an interesting parallel that’s beginning to develop between the end of this marriage and marriage #1. After just about 3 months post leaving my first husband, I was ready to calm down some and re-focus my energies. It just so happened to be in the form of a new relationship with now ex-husband #2. Today, early this morning, a feeling from deep within started bubbling to the surface. I’m undergoing a bit of a transformation, something feels slightly different now, in how I’m approaching life and how I see the world around me.

So much has happened in 90 days, yet I still wonder who I am and I constantly question what I believe. I have moments of sadness that are so great that even breathing feels like an impossible task. I have super low lows and also pretty magnificent highs. And the rest of the time it just “is.” I run through the motions. I take care of my daughter. I workout and hang out with friends. We laugh. I cry. Some days, the moments range from feeling quite “normal” to catastrophic to incredible. All within hours of each other.

For example, yesterday was such a day. The morning was great. The afternoon was filled with sadness and I felt like a zombie, simply going through the motions. Then the evening was one of my favorites I’ve had in the last 90 days. That’s a lot of emotion to process in just one 24 hour period!

But that’s also the way it has been, day after day, one after another, strung together now for 90 days. There’s just so much emotion to process in each 24 hour period. And it’s been exhausting! I’m seeing hope on the horizon, though, that the sea is about to calm significantly, going into these next 90 days. I feel something shifting within and I’m curious as to where it’s going to take me.

I’ve learned a lot, I think, in the last 90 days. Mostly, about people. People are inherently good. I’m no longer afraid to talk to a stranger or go to Target after dark or sit by myself at a restaurant or bar. Literally, guys, these were things I didn’t do because the fear was so all consuming. I catastrophized and feared so much that it stifled my life. Now, so many of those fears and hesitations no longer exist. I’m becoming far more confident in who I am and in going after what I want.

Unapologetically.

I’ve spoken with more random strangers in the last couple of months than I probably have in the last 10 years total. And the freedom to just connect with other humans is so beautiful! It has opened up my world. I’ve experienced things that I normally wouldn’t have ever even tried before. I’m being introduced to new music, food, drinks, places…all because I have stepped out of my comfort zone (okay, I was thrown from it) and I’m creating a new comfort zone. I am free to reinvent myself and to explore life in a way I never have before.

It’s energizing. And exciting. And liberating.

On this journey of reinventing myself, I’ve had to do an insane amount of self-reflection. And over the last 90 days, I have reached some hard truths. I realized, finally, that I lost myself for a while. I threw myself into being not only a mom, but the best mom there could possibly ever be. I also was incredibly sick for years and, man, living with a chronic illness really changes you. And then, all of a sudden, I was this person who was not me. She just wasn’t Katrina. But nobody could’ve told me that. I would never have believed it.

I know that I was a big problem of why my marriage sucked. It takes two, for sure, but in talking with someone tonight, it hit me that I probably started the negative cycle we were stuck in by not reaching out and getting help after my daughter was born. I blamed myself for her traumatic birth and lived with that for way too long. I put my husband on the back burner because he was not a helpless little child that almost died because of his mother’s stubbornness. He was a grown adult who didn’t need me.

But he did. And it surely wasn’t fair for me to treat him like an afterthought. Not only did I just not know any better, it wasn’t a conscious decision. I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. So he struggled, of course, with being an afterthought, and that also changed our dynamic. He wasn’t understanding or compassionate towards me. I viewed him as selfish – didn’t he understand why I couldn’t be anything more than a mom to this helpless little girl? But of course he didn’t understand. It is very difficult to understand irrational behavior and my behavior was exactly that. Like I said, I needed help. In those moments, though, I didn’t think I did. Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?

So here we are. 90 days later. The actions of our pasts are permanent and irreversible. We can be sorry for our parts we played and also understand that somethings are just too great to come back from. My ex’s cheating and lying for so long – that betrayal – is far too great to come back from. It changed me to my core and has made me question everything I thought I knew or believed.

It also put me on a path towards a new sense of freedom and discovery. There are no expectations, limitations, boundaries, and, most importantly, no fear. It’s incredible how much fear and worry I had. How it snowballed, too, and magnified my fear. And it’s even more astounding that it’s *mostly* been erased. I think it’s because everything I avoided out of fear was to keep me from being hurt (physically or emotionally).

I’ve now been so deeply hurt that I literally can’t put it into words.

The pain is truly indescribable. There isn’t much that could make me feel lower than I have in certain moments over the last 90 days. So my attitude and approach towards life is now just so free of concern. Because nothing (pretty much) will ever hurt this bad so why not take the risk and go for it? If I end up getting hurt, it still won’t be this bad, so it doesn’t even matter. To know that I am rising above this pain means that I am capable of rising above whatever adversity is thrown in my direction.

Well, except when we’re talking about that “r” word. That’s something where I am making a conscious decision to avoid at all costs. I’m surely not ready to consider being in a relationship. I may never want to go down that road, to be that vulnerable again. That’s pretty much the only thing that could make me feel this low, so out of self-preservation, there isn’t much need to be in a relationship. Ever. Well, that’s how I feel today. That level of connection is just not anything that needs to exist in my world. And I don’t want it to.

But I digress… Back to rising above! I think part of the shift I’m feeling today is that I’m focusing more on the positive life changes that my ex’s actions are bringing me. I’ve never felt more confident. I’ve never realized the strength I have within. On those extremely difficult days, I still survive. As exhausting as it is, I take a breath…and then another. I’ve survived through incredible pain that stems from a betrayal so deep that it’ll be a long time before I process all of those layers.

For 90 days now.

I’ve done a ridiculous amount of self-reflection. I mean, really looking at myself. And I have no regrets about who I am becoming. I’ve learned that I can be exactly who I want to be and that this moment, right now, is the only thing that is real. I’ve learned to live in moments, not days, weeks, months, or years. I’ve learned to let go of expectations and just be. I’m open to try things I never would’ve before. I’ve learned that living out loud is the most freeing and wonderful way to live.

Life is difficult. For all of us. Every single one of us has something we’re going through. If anything, I hope to inspire you all to live out loud. Unapologetically be who you want to be, even if it differs greatly from societal pressures. This is your life and you are free to pursue your happiness as you see fit. And you definitely do not have to live according to tradition or society’s rules. That is far too stifling and you end up losing yourself. Live in the moments of life and actively seek out those moments that make you smile as often as you can. Don’t worry about what tomorrow could bring – just be. Right now is the only reality that matters. It’s the only thing that exists.

At least, that’s what I am doing. And because of the freedom to live out loud, unafraid and uninhibited, I have had wonderfully fun experiences and have met more interesting people that I never would’ve even made eye contact with before. By living life this way, by being on this path (thanks to my ex’s betrayal), I feel more alive than I have in a long time. And I’m now incredibly aware of how much I missed out on due to the grip of fear controlling me. My ex has done me a favor, honestly, by causing me to hurt so deeply.

I am no longer afraid. Truly, there is no better gift I could’ve ever been given. Who would’ve thought that I would’ve looked at his infidelity as a way of shaking me awake so I can live the life I want to live? 90 days ago I don’t think I would’ve called this betrayal a gift. Now, though, I feel as though it has empowered me. It has granted me permission to live an uninhibited life. It truly feels limitless.

So in this moment, I am now looking forward to the next 90 days. Who knows who I’ll be by then? What I do know is, whoever I am, I’ll be happy.

life, Uncategorized

Screw It All

A Graceful Catastrophe

Screw it. Screw it all.

It appears that I have a breaking point.

It’s today.

My ex husband shared with me today that a “longtime friend” has betrayed me, too.

This is just one betrayal too many.

It has been an awful week so far, with so many stones thrown at me. I thought I was strong enough to hear his malicious words, spitefully attacking me…but I am not. Rather than let them bounce right off of me, I absorbed them. All of them.

Guys, I’m done.

I want him to hurt. I want to intentionally cause him so much emotional pain that it physically hurts him. He’s been accusing me of purposefully hurting him all the while anyway, so why not just lash out and do exactly what he thinks of me anyway?

The rage and hurt and frustration and anger have all reached a violent boiling point. It has consumed me. It is literally all I feel right now.

He has accused me of not giving him grace.

He believes, with every ounce of his being, the world he has painted. So I may as well jump in the painting and show him that reality.

I. Am. So. Done.

Living life with grace is for the birds.

My daughter can learn a different lesson.

One where a strong woman can fight back against the emotional abuse of a disgusting and broken individual. One where I don’t have to tolerate being spoken to with such venom spewing out of his mouth.

Amongst other vicious attacks, he claims I am weak because I don’t make enough money to support myself and my daughter or be able to stay in this home without his money (which I cannot, but it surely doesn’t make me weak!). He laughs that I have to turn to my dad for help.

I HATE that I have to ask my dad for financial support.

I HATE that this is the world I now live in.

I HATE that I can’t trust.

I HATE him.

He has thrown all the stones he can think of in the last two days to intentionally hurt me. And he won. He did it.

So now I’m done. I’m angry. And hurt. And sick to my stomach. And I can’t sleep. And, really, I’m just done.

He wins. He’s gotten inside my head.

He’s beaten me down.

I quit.

I have no desire to live life with grace or class or anything that gives him an ounce of kindness right now.

I mean, I’m nice enough to him in front of my daughter…but I am done when she’s not around. He doesn’t deserve it and I’m too exhausted to muster the energy to give it.

I’m not strong.

I can’t do this anymore.

Today, I am defeated.

It took just a bit over 2 months. Two months of trying to be strong. Of trying to be the bigger person. Two months of fighting for my sanity every single day. Two months of being on the worst emotional roller coaster I’ve ever been on.

Two months. And I’m exhausted. I just can’t do it anymore.

I hope it’ll get better from here someday, but for now, I’m sure it’s going to get ugly.

Because I don’t care anymore.

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. I care so much that I am so emotionally defeated that I can’t care anymore.

And definitely don’t care about him.

There is just too much to process. Too much pain. Too much stress.

It makes me physically ill. Drained.

He thinks he hasn’t been receiving grace thus far. I wonder what he’ll think of my new attitude towards him…? He has no clue, apparently, just how graceful I have been.

For the last 2 months, he’s been on the attack, throwing stones left and right. Calling me names. Some days were better than others. Some days we were able to finish out the 24 hours without a single stone being thrown. A lot of days have been an absolute living hell.

Oh, man, the stones that he has thrown in the last 2 days alone…

And, tonight, I finally threw some back.

And will continue to throw them.

Because I just don’t care.

It’s like he forgets what he’s done, the tailspin he’s thrown my life into, his daughter’s life… He takes no responsibility for it. Shows zero accountability. According to him, his actions don’t matter because I deserved it all. His actions are all justified because I was an awful wife. (And I was…because I retaliated for being treated awfully. We were stuck in a horribly sad, negative cycle.) But they aren’t justified and weren’t deserved.

“Romantic love” is stupid. Romantic love won’t exist in my world…not for a long time. Possibly not ever.

It’s just not worth it. It’s not worth this. When Alfred Lord Tennyson said it’s better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all was obviously not betrayed by people he thought loved them.

First, my husband. Now, at least one friend. I just can’t take it. It’s all slightly too much for me.

So, yeah, that’s been a thing. He talks with my “friends,” apparently. And my “friends” are talking about me behind my back. Awesome. I needed more betrayal in my life. More proof that nobody is to be trusted.

Fine.

Talk.

But could you at least be adult enough to tell me to my face what you think of me?

Because I don’t want to have to waste my time on you, too.

We’re all so old now. Grow up.

So, if you’re a long time friend, I guess you have to prove that you’re really my friend. And not talking smack about me behind my back. It’s going to be a long road.

Because now I trust no one.

I’m done.

I don’t have energy for nonsense.

And my life is filled with things that just don’t make sense right now.

God, I just want it all to make sense.

I want him to hurt as badly as he’s making me hurt.

So grace is gone. For now. Probably for a while.

So I can hit him where it hurts.

Intentionally.

Purposefully.

Like he did to me.

Over. And over. And over.

I’m so done.

Today, I don’t care.

About anything (except for, obviously, my daughter).

Because I hate him.

And it’s consumed me.

At least for today.

And for tomorrow, I’ll never forget. I am a changed woman. And he especially isn’t going to like the new me.

So screw living life with grace.

In the long run, it just doesn’t even matter.

We’re born. We die. Nothing in between really matters.

So, I’ll join him in his crappy little painting for now. Show him what this reality of his that he’s painted really looks like.

Because it is ugly.

And I have no more energy to try to paint rainbows and butterflies.

Uncategorized

I Feel Everything…So I Feel Nothing

A Graceful Catastrophe

*This was written on May 15, but I fell asleep before publishing it, so it’s referencing Tuesday night’s chaos.*

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

After last night’s drama, where I felt emotions ranging from fear to sadness to anger to extreme calmness, it is nice to feel nothing today. I have had a pretty quiet afternoon and evening. I have been pretty overwhelmed today. It started pretty much as soon as I woke up and remembered his actions from last night. I hate remembering.

Today I went down to the courthouse and started the tedious and long process to file for legal separation. I officially am the owner of not one, but two failed marriages. What a gem that is. I am starting to feel like Ross, from Friends. I can completely understand why he stayed secretly married to Rachel, to avoid divorce #3. I just can’t see myself being in any kind of serious relationship ever again. In order to be in a successful serious relationship, you have to let your guard down, to blindly trust. To allow myself to become so vulnerable that I’d willingly put myself at risk of feeling this much pain that my mind literally shuts down in an act of self-preservation is not something I’ll ever actively seek out. At least, that’s how I feel today.

Sometimes something happens to us that hurts so badly that the only response is to shut down. To feel nothing so that you don’t feel everything.

Today, I feel broken. He broke me. I hate writing that, to give him that kind of power. Yet, it’s exactly how I feel. Today, I am fully barricaded in my castle, with all the hazards and obstacles fully in place to prevent myself from falling again. I cannot feel this depth of anguish and despair again…I won’t. There’s only so much a soul can take before she breaks.

It sounds so dramatic. And I know I’m “young.” I also know that time heals most wounds. Being right here in the thick of it, though, it feels as though this wound is just too deep and has too many layers that need to heal to ever resemble anything unbroken again. Some hurts are impossible to recover from.

While this isn’t my first trauma I’ve ever experienced, it is the most multi-layered. The stacks of different kinds of pain that need to be processed are astounding. I also acknowledge that my history proves that I do eventually recover. The next greatest trauma that I experienced took me almost a full decade to come back from. And this is just so much worst. I guess time will tell.

For now, though, I will remain guarded and actively escape this awful reality as often as I can. Unapologetically.

So, if you talk to me and I seem a bit vacant or distracted, just understand that life, in that moment, is just a little too much to absorb. Or if I talk a little too much, I know you will listen. My life bounces between extremes right now. It’s either “feel all the feelings” or “feelings? Those don’t matter. Let’s bury them.”

It’s interesting. I’ve always been open and emotional (and oftentimes, an emotional mess with everything worn transparently for all to experience right along with me). My ex has probably asked me, with no exaggeration, 20 times in the last 24 hours if I’m okay. Because I’m super withdrawn – vacant.

I am okay. I will be great again. I will go back to feeling everything again. For today, though, I will remain safely inside my castle. And feel the void that is my current state.

Because if I feel anything, then I’ll feel everything. And I want to feel nothing.

life

Happy Husbands Don’t Cheat

A Graceful Catastrophe

UGH…

This weekend has been filled with, well, just moments of “ugh.”

I have not had much grace. I am not being a good friend to him. I’ve been so sad. And the hurt just feels like it has been hurting a bit more these last couple of days. It’s honestly been so hard to keep it together and I’ve had several moments where it was impossible.

When my (ex) husband is home, and he’s being humble, filled with regret, and, therefore, kind, things feel “normal” and normal is super confusing to me. Sometimes, though, when he’s home, he justifies his behavior and utters my newest most hated phrase: “Happy husbands don’t cheat.”

Excuse me while I go rage out and break my other hand…

He traveled last week for work and was only home for about 11 hours between Friday night and Saturday morning before leaving for work again. Eleven hours, most of which were overnight, also happened to be sufficient time to trigger the heck out of me. And rather than respond with grace, I handled it with sarcasm, anger, and bitterness.

*sigh*

I am not always strong, nor am I always the bigger person. Sometimes I am very human and petty emotions get the best of me.

Then he’s gone again, traveling for business. But now I know exactly what he does when he travels for work. While I fully (logically) understand he is no longer my husband, I still struggle with his actions, though I now have no right to, since we aren’t really married anymore.

So it kind of all just breaks my brain. And my heart? Forget about it.

On Thursday he comes home again. Just in time to help me with our daughter’s birthday party, where we will entertain her (our) guests, together, like we have for the last 8 birthday parties. Except this time will be our last time. Next year, he’ll have his own place and I will host by myself. He’ll merely be a guest.

We’ll officially be a broken family.

God, that sentence hurts.

Logically, I get that we weren’t happy. We hadn’t been happy for a long time. There were many times where we barely liked one another – and it was obvious to the both of us. In a lot of ways, we’d both given up on the marriage.

But we’d started seeing a marriage therapist. I was working on changing my mindset, trying to focus on the good he brought to my world, rather than all the little (and big) ways he annoyed, hurt, and angered me. I was seeking advice on how to make our marriage work from anywhere I could get it. I wanted our marriage to work.

He didn’t.

The bottom line is that he wanted to do something so terrible that it would make me stop fighting for our marriage. He wanted out. I can’t help but continuously feel that I wasn’t worth fighting for. Our family wasn’t worth fighting for. And when he justifies his actions by blaming me, a very tiny part of me believes him. Because our marriage was really difficult.

Then I snap out of it. It doesn’t happen for long – me believing him. But then I get so mad for allowing myself to be manipulated that I end up handling the situation quite poorly. And then I feel guilty!

Ugh!

So, then I apologize because I am supposed to be living my life with grace. I am supposed to be understanding and forgiving. These are the bars that I have set for myself. This is how I am supposed to behave because it’s honestly the way I want to behave. It’s easy to respond with grace and class when he’s being humble and apologetic. It is so very, very hard when he convinces himself that I pushed him to cheat.

Because, he tells me, happy husbands don’t cheat.

*Deep breath in. Long, slow breath out.*

I believe I am on this path purposefully. I don’t believe that anything happens to us by accident. And it’s very obvious that I need to practice the act of giving grace to those who don’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of grace. He especially doesn’t deserve it when he utters the stupidest sentence I have ever heard.

So, I continue to have opportunities to practice. I’m not great at it yet. I’m not even mediocre at it yet. I’m actually quite poor at giving him grace when he doesn’t deserve it. Which means I’m sure I’m going to be presented with many more opportunities to practice being kind, understanding, compassionate, and forgiving. This is my chance to grow and be a better human.

I want to be a better human. So when he comes home on Thursday, I’m sure I will get an abundance of chances to practice giving grace and I will try oh, so very hard to embrace them.

I have to remember that he is broken. Anyone who believes the sentence, “Happy husbands don’t cheat,” must be tragically damaged. Whether or not he is going to work at fixing all of his broken pieces is up to him. It’s only up to me to give him the grace he doesn’t deserve.

So that is exactly what I will try to do, in between taking deep breaths to calm the rage inside when he says stupid things.

I know that one day, some beautiful day sometime in the future, I will be happier, and it’ll be because of this journey. Until then, I will make a conscious effort to embrace the low moments, remembering that it is through this pain and adversity that I will grow.

Mindset is everything and I have to choose to see this catastrophe as a gift he has given me. Seeing it through any other lens turns me into someone I don’t really care for and while I get that it’ll happen every now and then, I don’t have to live in that space. I refuse to.

This weekend has been challenging. That’s just the way this chapter is going to go. There’s no getting around crappy days. As I sit back right now, finishing up these last few sentences, and taking a deep cleansing breath, I’m ready to try to move forward again. Despite having all the reasons to hold onto my anger and hurt and disappointment, I will consciously move forward with compassion and grace for him.

For no reason other than I want to be better. I want to do better.

And so I will try my best, in all the moments, but especially the ones that are awful, to give grace to the man that believes, “Happy husbands don’t cheat.”