Always the Same

Need to write.  Have chills down my spine knowing I'm not alone.  This is not a comforting thing.  My jaw tightens.  Heart aches.  Cat jumped on chair and nearly gave me a heart attack......aaarrrggghhh!!!  Life is not supposed to be this way!!!

Upsetting

Wow.  I am so weary.  Had an epiphane while I was sitting alone in my car.  I have basic needs.  Emotional.  Physical.  Mental.  Spiritual.  I am not incredibly needy.  But I have made a mistake because I have denied that I have the needs.  And what I never realized until I stopped.  Prayed.  Wondered.  Tried to really figure it out....well, you get the idea....what I never realized was that I adapted.  Learned what he needed.  How he was wired.  What he likes.  But it has never happened in reverse.  And I have always put it aside.  Believed that it was selfish to think that I had to have it.  I mean, he shouldn't need to know what I like.  Or what is important to me.  He doesn't need to want to do what I like.  He doesn't need to "get" me.  It's my job as a christian to help him.  To be what he needs.  And years past.  Years and years.
And finally, I started seeing the same things with his relationship with the kids.  Today it reminded me.  He called three different phones in a few minutes.  Seems like it must be an emergency.  But, it wasn't.  It was to tell me about one of our son's facebook accounts and how a rude message had been sent out.  He never calls me to tell me how great they are.  Never reaches out about how wonderful they are.  But, someone from church had called him and complained.....he was embarrassed.  Instead of explaining that sometimes that happens, he took it personally.  Verbally attacked me on the phone that I should take it more seriously.  How he was going to "speak with him" about it.  Well, at least he'll speak to him, I guess.  But it made me sad.  He has completely missed it.  What a loss for him.  He is missing out on the most important things in life.  He gets involved to tear down.  What a pleasure it would be to see him build up.  He "play" ridicules about competing.  But it isn't play.  He needs to win.  He pretends that he's laid back, but he simmers.  But, if he can't see how wonderful the kids are....well, it shouldn't be surprising that he can't see me.  Because they are amazing. 
And it upsets me.  It also allows me to see a little more clearly.  That maybe no matter what I'd do I would be invisible.  Maybe it's not even about who I am or how I am, but about him not being able to care.  Not sure.
Probably not.  Like I said...I'm a little prickly.  A little hard to love.  Maybe he finds me unworthy. 

Lovable

I often wonder why it is so easy for some people to be lovable and so hard for others.  I want to be lovable.  I'd like to think that I could be.  But, it always feels like I'm one of those ones that people just think is a little odd.  I am.  You don't know me, but I'm.....different.  I can't even say how.  I just know that I am.  And no matter how much I try to resolve it, I always wish that it were different.  That I were different.  I don't mean to be obnoxious.  Somehow, I think I missed out on some of the lessons of how to be lovable.  They should have taught it in school.  Given lessons.  Homework.  Because, at the very base, in my marriage I can't forgive myself because I don't blame him for behaving as if he's doing me a favor.  I mean, he is, right?  Staying.  Not going out drinking.  Going to work.
But, while I'm not one of those people that feels lovable, I am beginning to see that we are all lovable.  I know exactly why I am drawn to the hurting kids.....I know how much they need love.  I know how much I need it.  And, I have been well taught by a person that God has brought into my life, that it IS possible.  That just how I am can be enough.  Can be ok.  Even when I'm not a way that everyone seems to wish I was.  Having that friend has helped me.  Without that friendship, I would be totally lost at this point.  I probably would not have survived.  Literally.  Long ago I wondered why God brought such a friend.  An amazing person.  One of the lovable people.  But  somehow He has used her as His hands and heart.  To show me what it looks like.  Strangely, it's not always easy to tell her.  Telling her the deepest things isn't even necessary.  She would be stunned to read this....I think....although, she knows my heart.  She sees me when I forget who I am.  It is her presence that God has used to show me that perhaps I am worth it.  Even if I have nothing to give.  Even when I'm just a blubbering mess.  And one day....when the time is right....when she doesn't have enough of her own heartache, I will try to tell her.  But how can I....she is his friend too.  If you have any friends that are friends of you both, you know what I mean.  You simply can't know which way things will go if the marriage is severed.  But I know that she taught me how to BE loved.  And that how I show love is acceptable too.  Makes me cry.  Because it makes me think that perhaps I'm worth it after all.  Maybe I've just been trying so hard to conform in my marriage to FORCE something to happen when it shouldn't be that hard.  Maybe I shouldn't have to give up what I am to be loved?  Novel idea.  Truly.  Never once has been a part of my marriage.  But, if God sent someone who can see me and be happy with me and laugh and forgive and show compassion.....then, maybe I am one of the lovable ones?  I frowned as I wrote that.  Almost deleted it.  Can't possibly be true.  Or.......maybe I have just gotten used to not being because I listen to the wrong people.  It's a thought.  I'm not sure I buy it.

Born...again....and again

Birth is a difficult process.  It is hard for the mother.  It is also hard for the newborn.  The pushing, squeezing, cramping and all of the loss of the warm, darkened, safe space.  I feel like that.  Like I am learning what it is like to be born as myself.  To be who I am supposed to be.  Who am I?  Really? 
I am inquisitive.  curious.  passionate.  interested.  hopeful.  generous.  opinionated.  unsure. smart.  stubborn.  I'd like to say in a good way...but that just depends.  protective.  loving.  communicator.  searcher.  redeemed.  questioning.  good friend.  lousy friend.  I know, it seems opposite....but, really, I can be both.  more gentle than i seem.  sensitive.  compassionate.  wise.  timid.  shy.  introvert.  except for with my friends.  introspective.  tactile.  visual.  peace lover.  but, wave maker at times.  truth seeker. 
i am.  his.  and HE IS.  so, i can be. 
But the birth process isn't any easier now that I'm grown.  It's a process.  It takes time.  I just have to wait and go through the discomfort.  Until the first breath.  I believe it's coming soon.

Grief

I am great with empathy.  I see how a person feels.  Sometimes, I can really feel it myself.  And I grieve for them.  And celebrate with them.  But, as I have been doing this writing, I have come to see that I have a hard time grieving for myself.  I keep making up excuses for why I should do better.  Be more.  How I have failed.  But, reading back a bit, I grieved.  Really grieved.  As if I were reading about someone else.  Suddenly it came to me that it is ok to grieve for ME.  To have compassion for myself.  To take care of myself.  To allow myself to be an entity with needs, hopes, dreams and wants. 
Funny how it took stepping outside of myself in a way to actually see my own pain and not as a source of blame but simply as it is.  Painful. 
I have suffered many losses in life.  Death.  Divorce (not my own).  Fighting.  Abuse.  I have faced great challenges in the power of a god who has carried me and protected me through every single thing.  But my calling this relationship what it is confounds me.  Even when I read it in writing, I remind myself that this is me...not someone else.  If it were someone else I would be weeping for them.  With them.  Knowing how deeply they must be hurting.  If it were someone else, I would understand.  I would not condemn.  But it's me.  And I expect that I should have done more.  I should have figured out a way. 
Maybe it's the denial stage of grief?  The part that simply can't see that sometimes a thing HAS happened.  Though we didn't want it.  Though we don't understand it. 
I do go through stages.  I do feel like cursing lately.  As in..."get your damn hands off of me.  I already said no."  The truth is that it wouldn't do any good.  It would simply fuel the belief that I am the one to blame.  I am not the christian woman he hoped for. 
No wonder I understand children so well.  I see their confusion because I have experienced it.  I can feel it to my toes.  When they hurt, I know their hurt.  Not just because I feel sorry for them, which I do....but because they are so precious and they BLAME THEMSELVES.  I get that.  Still have trouble seeing myself as precious.  I know it.  I remind myself that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  A poem.  An artwork.  A treasure.  Bought.  Redeemed.  Still, my heart wonders if those things are true then why does he not love me for me?  Because I can't put the blame on him for some reason.  I feel like I am the one responsible.  Like I am the one that isn't willing anymore so it is my fault. 
Grief.  Deep grief.  It's good.  Now, I need my time walking the coast, collecting rocks and shells and treasures while also collecting my thoughts and allowing my grief to be soothed.  I must allow myself to grieve for me.  To be loved on by those who care.  To be cared for as I am by those who choose to.  To allow myself to love myself though I am without a doubt one of the most imperfect, totally weird people in the world.  I need to be ok with that.  But having the person who was "supposed" to fill that role find me unacceptable makes me question who I am.  Wonder if I can somehow change my very makeup.  I know that I have spent so much time trying to conform that I almost allowed myself to be erased.  So, it seems like I should not do that anymore.  But does laying down my life mean being erased?  I keep coming back to that.  But if I am to love others as I love myself, I would never let them be erased.  So, don't I have to love myself in that same way? 
Yesterday we were snapping photos on a digital.  I looked awful.  The grief is huge.  Like a beacon.  But he does not see.  He only hovers.  Waiting.  Wanting me to make the world right for him.  And I just want him to grow up.  To learn that I can't do that.  I used to tell him, "I'm not God...I can't do those things for you.  You have to have your own relationship.  You have to find that in yourself." 
I am here.  In my house.  It feels so good.  Got a little extra time off of work.  My spirit soared.  I had time to think.  To write.  Sometimes I think that I should take this blog away.  But I keep praying that it will be of help to someone.  That maybe one day a person will run across it and it will give them hope....that another person had big questions.  And that God was big enough.  Kind enough.  Faithful enough.  To her.  And that maybe reading that.....well, perhaps that person will find enough hope, enough grace, enough peace to make it through one more day. 
My words aren't magic.  My experience is not unique.  I am simply one person among millions.  With a story.  I want my story to be heard in a way that does not destroy faith, but build it.  Though I appear totally messed up and screwed up....and I am in many ways....God is God.  And He has not rejected me.  As a matter of fact, my feeling is that it is actually His seeking of the real me, of wanting to fill back in the lines of my nearly erased self that is causing all of this discomfort.  Like He is calling me to trust Him that He has something better for me.  I just have too hard of a time wrapping my mind around the fact that what He has might be completely contrary to the things I thought I was doing to please Him.  Getting along.  Keeping the peace.  I am realizing that those things ARE important.  Only in the context of truth.  Not habit.  Not ritual.  Not ruts.  Not making others comfy cozy in their unkindness toward me.  He is beginning to crack this vessel.  To let light in to show me that He created me beautiful.  Fully how He wanted me.  Not without flaws.  But that He even intends to use the flaws.  One day maybe I will get it.  For now, I'm just rummaging around, trying to hear.  Trying to listen.  Trying to hold my Daddy's hand and not get lost on the journey. 
Many years ago my grandpa took me on a jeep trip.  We went without a backup jeep.  Way into the back country.  we jeeped all day.  Toward the end, something major broke on the old Willie's Jeep.  We had to "walk out".  Darkness fell.  I was terrified.  The great adventure had suddenly turned threatening.  There were bears.  And wolves.  And owls.  And bats.  And mountain lions.  And snakes.  And anything else a child can imagine on a very dark night in the middle of nowhere.  My grandpa took my hand.  He led me.  He chatted with me.  He sang some songs....he never sang. ;)  Finally, hours later, we arrived at a campground for Boy Scouts.  He got us a ride to civilization....and a phone(no cells back then in the dark ages) and had someone pick us up.  It was only moments after getting in their car that I was asleep.  The thing is that God wants to walk me through this journey just like my grandpa did.  He doesn't expect me to be anything but what I am: His child.  I don't disappoint Him with my fears or my wonderings.  My questions do not anger Him.  He wants to meet my needs.  It was so easy to believe it when I was a child with my grandpa.  I struggle with it now as an adult with God.  Because going through means facing all kinds of grief and fear and loss.  But I won't be alone.  Never have been.

Uh Oh

I just arrived back home after a circuitous route.  I took kids to school.  Came back toward house.  His car was still in the drive.  Pulled a u-turn.  Drove.  Went towards work.  Killed half an hour.  Decided that I wanted to still come back home today.  Turned around.  Came back.  All clear.....finally.  I spend 10 hours a week avoiding being home.  That stinks.  And that is only in the morning routine before work.  I absolutely dread confrontations.  Dread the physical hopes and demands.  Today he was trying to have a kiss before I left.  I hugged him.  He was not happy.  Why can't he hear me?  why does he only see what he wants?  Never sees me.  At all.  Well, I take that back.  He sees me for what he can get from me. 
I am wounded.  My dreams and my hopes were scoffed at by the one who was supposed to love me.  Not who I am for him, but who I am for me too.  As times passes I sadly realize that my worst fears are true.  His interest in me has very little to do with me.  Any woman would do.  I can think of many people who would be better for him.  Anyone, probably. 
Can I possibly be worth more than this?  What if I'm not?  What if really I am not worthy of anything? 
I know that he has decided to pray for us in these last few months.  Kind of crazy how I prayed for years.  Cried out.  But he had no interest.  Life was fine.  Why bother.  But now he is uncomfortable.  His list is not working.  He is not getting the return for his efforts. 
I cannot do this forever.  And I can't go back to how it was before.  Thouigh it would be easier inmany ways.  I want truth.  Real.  I want the real thing. 
Awhile back he told me that he was praying to love me.  Wow.  Somehow, that cut too deeply.  Even if it was a prayer to love me more or better.  Which isn't what he said.  Not at all.
I have a tender heart.  I am not bitter.  I am cut deeply.  Disappointed.  Not without hope.  Yet, understanding that every avenue I have tried in years past has been a dead end.  He would be all about counseling.  Get yet another list.  Do what's on it so that he can get past this.  But he doesn't have any tenderness towards me.  The real me. 
I was exciting.  I was different.  I got him out of a rut in his family.  But, he never chose me really.  I see that now.  He could still use me as an excuse.  "Going to her home state to live."  "Can't do that, the wife says no."  No wonder his mom hates me so much I now realize.  Because he has never been able to build me up or support me or protect me because I am the one he uses to make reasons for why he isn't pursuing what she wants.  So, I remain unimportant.  In the big scheme.  Well, very important in that I allow the lie to continue.  "Mom, I needed a way to have my own life and she is my excuse."
I am so happy for our children.  I want to be friendly with my husband.  But I do not want him here.  I can't keep feeling this way.  CAn't sleep.  Don't eat well.  Can't relax right.  Always on edge.  Can't do the things in myhome that I want to do because it's not ever a safe haven for me. 
I like working.  I don't catch any grief over it because I make money.  When I owned a business and didn't make money, he was resentful.  But, now I am allowed to work.  But he hates that I put the money in a different account.  Really makes him mad.  And then he tried hurt.  And then he tried unfair.  And I said oh well.  This is what I'm doing. 
Got to get my will written.  If I get sick or something happens, he is not getting my inheritance.  He can get what we own jointly.  Which is.....um, not much.  But the rest is for the kids and for someone to take care o them.  But doing it.  Got to make time.  Yet again, when do I get time alone.  This few minutes was stolen.  Sneaked into my own house.  Crap.  I thought that growing up would mean that I was allowed to decide. 
That's why uh oh......because something is really off.  And I can't put my finger totally on it yet, but I'm learning.  It's a process.  And in the process, God is still God.  And He gave me great kids.  And is here today.  Off to a job I love. 

Renewal

Each day has it's own troubles, trials, blessings and gifts.  The key is to keep each in perspective.  To realize that I don't deserve either.  That troubles and trials are not because I am bad...though some things come because of my own choices.  It is a fallen world.  Sometimes good things happen to people doing bad and other times bad things happen to people doing good. 
I am renewed by this thought.  By the thought that through all, God takes, sifts, carries and makes new.  He is faithful.  He is just.  He is.  That is enough.  For me.

Trying To Calm

My heart is racing less.  The house is getting quiet.  At some point in life I am going to need to get more regular sleep.  Today I had a nap.  It was glorious.  But it took me time not to worry.  Wondering if I'd be found.  Wondering if I would be called.  Wondering if I was allowed.  My heart and mind race.  Often.  And yet, there's also an underlying calm most of the time.  For life is a marvel.  A true gift.  And I will make it.  And I will enjoy all that this beautiful gift has to offer.  I will settle for nothing less.  Even though life is difficult.  Though I am very imperfect.
I might have cried through part of church, but the whole day was not lost.  And though this part of life pretty much feels sucky, all of life is not lost.  There is a plan.  A way.  A direction.  A light for my feet.  A stronghold.  And while I am weak and weary and troubled.....He is not.  He still sees me.  Even in this invisible time.  And loves me.  Even me.  I don't feel very lovable.  I feel banished.  But He says it's not so.  I cling to Him.  His plan.  But it all seems so hard. 
When will I ever have a time when life is easy?  Never probably.  So I will commit to enjoying every small victory and joy.  I will glory in the moments when my heart calms.  I will be thankful for all that I have and all that I am.  Even teh things I don't much like.  But.....stilll....I'd like to quit shaking.

Had To Go

Had to go before.  Sitting in the dark.  Suddenly, I wasn't alone.  Freaky.  I wish that writing was easier.  Like I could just do it anytime.  It's hard.  Like it's not important.  To him.  A waste of time.  He would really be upset if he knew what I was writing.  Gotta go.

Survival

Sometimes I wonder if survival is the goal.  I mean, it feels like life should be so much more than just gritting my teeth and trying to make it.  I know a lot of people do it.  Perhaps it's the norm.  I want so much more.  I want to wake up with hope and joy.  Ready to face a new day.  Ready to see the blessings.  To rest.  To work.  To love.  To give.  I am not completely selfish, however, a side has come forth that demands to be heard.  It is a part of me that I try to silence often.  The desire to be treasured.  Not simply to treasure.  To be encouraged.  Not to always be the encourager.  To be allowed to falter.  To even fall.  And to actually be picked up. 
Don't think I never get that.  I do.  It is not from my husband.  He does not have that in him.  He mopes so that I will make him feel better.  He expects me to initiate intimacy so that it makes him feel desired.  He wants me to carry it all. 
I want to do more than survive. 

Personal Bill of Rights

You have the right to be you.
You have the right to put yourself first.
You have the right to be safe.
You have the right to love and be loved.
You h ave the right to be treated with respect.
You have the right to be human - NOT PERFECT.
yOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE ANGRY AND PROTEST IF YOU ARE TREATED UNFAIRLY OR ABUSIVELY BY ANYONE.
yOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO YOUR OWN PRIVACY,.
You have the right to have your own opinions, to express them, and to be taken seriously.
You have the right to earn and control your own money.
You have the right to ask questions about anything that affects your life.
You have the right to make decisions that affect you.l
You have the right to grow and change and that includes changing your mind.
You have the right to say NO.
You have the right to make mistakes.
You have the right NOT to be responsible for other adult's problems.
You have the right not to be liked by everyone.
YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO CONTROL YOUR OWN LIFE AND TO CHANGE IT IF YOU ARE NOT HAPPY WITH IT AS IT IS.

Is this right?  It's from a counselor.  It's a christian counselor.  If it is right, then I have been so off.....oh my gosh.  But what do I do?  To what court do I appeal?  How does it affect me if I know it but it is not honored?  How.  I can't demand it.  Well, I can, but the  result will not be pretty.  Am I allowed to do so?  Is it the christian response? 
I want to be loving.  I really do.  I am not an ogre.  But I am finished.  I cannot live like this.  It's not living.  If I've got only a certain amount of days left to live, I want to spend them honoring God with who I am.  With my life gifts.  I want to write my book.  Without someone standing by with the frowny face and making fun of me the many times that I will fail before I succeed.  I won't even send anything off yet, though I want to......Can't bear being ridiculed anymore.

Today

Nothing like a little panic in a day.  I am going to be in so much trouble.  An offhand comment made about his competitive nature.  It'll be my fault.  Even though I didn't make  the comment.  Ya know, it'll go one of two ways....I hope I get ignored.
Pretty sure that it's not supposed to be that way.  Whatever "supposed to" means.  Is it weird to think that there would be hope to be somewhat amiable? 
It's funny because I once found a website called heartless bitches and I felt so guilty about reading it.  Like it was so awful.  Strangely, it was about much of what I'm talking about now.  Not about being a b**** but about how women are viewed if they stand up for themselves.  That's how I feel.  Like by standing up for myself means being considered a bad person.
Today a really good thing happened.  Someone sent me a personal bill of rights.  It made me cry.  Made me wonder how they knew to send it.  God is pretty amazing.  Meets my needs.  Even when I can't seem to reach out.  Ya know, today I did.  I asked for something I needed.  And it happened.  And it filled my heart.
How do I face nights?  And now he says he's taking off the one weekday that I have off.  I am devastated.  He looked gleeful.  I know he knows.  Knows it hurts.  Knows I flee.  He's not stupid.  Why would he want to hurt me?  Why won't he let me be in my house?  I was sssoo looking forward to getting up later that day.  Or getting up early and doing what I wanted. 
I am so stressed. 

Okay

At this moment, I took a breath.  And that one breath filled me up.  Funny.  It doesn't take much.  I am not hard to please.  I asked for rest.  It was given.  So, off I go to rest.  Knowing that for this moment, I am ok.  For this moment, I am safe. 

In the Cold

Wow.  Just can't seem to get warm.  Managed to walk myself into church today...actually all the way into the sanctuary.  Cried through the music.  God got me there...knew I needed it.  But I just simply can't get warm  Cold from the inside out.  What if God walks away from me?  I know he doesn't.  But, it's like this doubt in my heart.  My mind knows.  But the pastor was talking about His wrath.....and my heart cried out.  My very life desire has always been to be His.  To minister for Him.  I feel like an utter failure.  On the good side, I guess nobody will seek me out for advice anymore. ;) Takes a lot of pressure off. Ha. 
Church was a blessing. Getting out was good.  Avoided most.  Managed to pull my tears together at some point.  Almost managed to quit shaking.  Had a friend there.  That helps a lot.  Someone who keeps the focus from being on me. 
I have spent so many years trying to do this.  I am not sure if I know how not to.  Once, many many years ago, someone wrote me a little not when I was going through a hard time....said trust god.  trust husband.  trust me.  and even then....I didn't trust him.  Strangely, I had been gone visiting someone for a few weeks with the kids, and many years later I found out that he thought that I'd left him.  You know, he never said anything.  Never came for me.  Guess I could've then.  But then I wasn't even thinking about it.  I was trying to figure out how to be a better wife.  How to get through the hard time.  How to live a Godly life.  How to be a joy bringer.  Funny.  I could have left and he didn't come for me.  Or our kids. 
He is a good man.  I keep reminding myself though it tears open a huge gash every time.  He works.  He does stuff around the house.  He is involved in church.  He is quite driven.  He has a lot of good qualities.  He can be very funny and charming. 
All of these good things.  So why does my stomach clench and my body go stiff when I hear his footsteps?  Why do I shudder when I feel him come near?  I think maybe I have been blind to the parts that are covered up by the good parts.  That I excused things I shouldn't have. 

Erased

Tears are flowing this morning.  My stomach is in knots.  Need someone to hear me.  Get myself up.  Trembling.  My hands are shaking as I try to type.  Afraid he'll get up and catch me.  I know, right?  Like I'm a little kid.  I fear that somehow he will find this blog even.  My safe place to say my words.
I woke up and it occurred to me.  I have been being slowly but surely erased over the years.  Like from a blackboard.  But, at the moment, there is still the residue of who I am left on the board.  The faint outline.  The hope of drawing back in the lines.  Of restoration.  Of being whole again. Not if anymore erasing occurs.  If some big event akin to getting water and a sponge for a chalkboard.....then I'd be gone. 
I've felt like I've been disappearing for years.  And finally I know that that is what broke.  When I told him that finally it would be too much, that finally I wouldn't be able to do more, that I had hit my limit.....that is because I realized that I had reached the point that if I didn't do something then I would disappear.  And, for all of the nutsy, crazy, unpleasant things about me....I like me.  I have been on a quiet search to find out if I I was was worth reviving.  I think that I have to.  I have to find a way.  How eludes me.
I feel so alone sitting here this morning.  Probably because it's a church day and in order to maintain my sanity, I don't go and enjoy anymore.  Yet another part of me given up.  Because I can't answer how I am.  I am rather invisible there......people only see what they want to see.  Don't get me wrong.  They are wonderful.  Good.  Kind.  It's just that he is so involved there.  That's good.  I know that I need to step back.  But I'm so sad this morning.  The tears just keep coming.  So afraid that every sound is his footsteps.  Swallowing.  Listening.  writing fast.  Wanting to jump back in bed.  Wanting to get dressed and get out. 
I may be hurting.  I may not know how, but I do resolve not to live as someone else anymore.  I might cry.  I might be hated by everyone else.  But at least I'll be able to face myself. 
But what about my kids.  What about the friends that will be lost.  What about the many people who see him...he is always the "good" one...I am "trouble".  I waffle.  Don't know what to do.  If I don't do something, I will be obliterated.  Is THAT what it means to lay down your life?  I hope not.  Am I a heathen?  Unredeemed?  How can I have these thoughts and be the woman I desire to be spiritually?  Is being afraid and uncomfortable reason enough to need the space? 
What if I don't do anything?  What if the me I really am just disappears.  I doubt if most people would even notice.  If I just kept playing the game, the world would go on so well for so many.  And I cry harder.  Is that what it means to sacrifice? 
I am strong.  How do people who are not cope?  Strong.  Ha.  That's why I sit here in a trembling mass.  Body pulled in.  Freezing.  Hoping that somehow this morning I will find some way to politely be disengaged. 
There used to be enough of the picture left that I wasn't afraid of the eraser.  But now, as it fades, I know that a decision is going to have to be made.  And that it is goin to be incredibly altering.  And is the nearly erased me strong enough to withstand the blows.  The accusations.  Everyone suddenly getting involved to "fix" this. 
And again, alone.  Afraid to tell anyone.  The very best of my wonderful friends would be completely surprised.  I am blessed.  Yes, I have friends.  People who have taught me about how to grow and love and live.  But in light of seeing me stop this game...I simply don't know.  I kind of think they will end up his friend or neithers.  My kids I don't want them to suffer.  Even though they are so grown.  I want them to have choices.  That's why it is important to me to do this well.  To do it "right".  Be angry yet do not sin.  I am angry.  He had a woman who would do anything to meet his needs and make him happy.  Obviously.  It was never enough.  Ever.   And it never will be.  When dinner is ready when he gets home hours late...."oh, is there any salad to go with it?" 
I have to admit....I don't do his laundry or make his bed or his breakfast.  I don't see him off or doing any of those things I used to do.  I am withdrawn.  If I were accused, I would have to agree.  I do agree.  But, as I told him the last time he came to fight....this is all I have to offer.  and maybe less.  He doesn't know what it costs me to offer this......

Running Away

Sometimes I feel like an elementary schooler.  Running away.  I spend as much time as possible away from my house when my husband is home.  I miss being able to really live in my house.  I have things I want to do.  I look around and when I know that I have several hours or more....I go at them.  Making it what I want.  But, when I'm not sure if he's coming or not, I hide away at a computer, go to sleep, or simply go elsewhere.  I have spent so much time sitting in my car reading or writing or just being alone in the last few months....and I guess it's immature.  It's a new way of trying to keep the peace.  I can't keep performing, so now I just try to avoid.
So, he acts nicer.  Except not.  Like fake cheerfulness.  I do know that he's trying for something.  Mostly, I know that he wants sex.  How hard that must be for him...no pun intended. 
Have you ever been in a place so dark that you hold up your hand and can't see it?  I have.  And, my relationship is like that.  It's like no matter what I say or how I act or what I do, he simply can't see me.  He only sees him....his wants...how it affects him.  Sad to miss out on so much in life because you can't get to know another person.
So, in my "running away", I find that I dread going home.  But there's nobody to tell.  Just have to suck it up and go eventually.  Sometimes he "punishes" me by ignoring me....for that I am thankful.  Other times he comes to interact.  That makes me uncomfortable.  Very uncomfortable.  How many times and how many ways do I have to say no before he hears me?  It's crazy. 
He made me tell him how much money I could get by with this month for groceries and all after he listed all of the extra expense...made a big deal about having to take money out of the savings.....shoot, he told me awhile back that we had no savings.  Anyhow, then he acts all sorry about having to do this with the money but AGAIN...there's this and this and this and this.  And how much will I be able to contribute.  Ha.  I just realized, we talked this morning....it was about MONEY.  AGAIN.  ha.  I knew it.  It's the one subject he always has to address. 
I just want to be with the kids.  But, will it destroy them?  I think that they know how hard it is for us.  And, I think that they appreciate that we are not longer arguing.  It was getting pretty yucky.  Couldn't find common ground anymore because I finally refused to be bullied anymore.  bottom line, it takes two or more to fight.  I'm not interested.  I just ignore it now.  One night he sat on my couch and kept going and going.  I was so very tired.  I finally engaged.  What I've learned is that the engaging in battle releases something for him.  Makes him feel better.  While it makes me feel like sh**.  Seriously.  Horribly.  Indesribably.  If you can't get along perhaps it's kinder to give space?  But something about the battle has always made him feel powerful or something.  I don't quite understand it yet, but it was part of the routine of life....had to fight.  Then, he had to pretend nothing was wrong.  And I would be asking for forgiveness.  Thinking that I should be a better wife.  Wondering why I wasn't.  Wishing I was able to do as well as all of those other women.  Pathetic.  It might be all my fault....I still wonder.  But, even if it is, I'm not going back to the battle zone.  It would be a death sentence.  And I love living.  I taste the zest again.  I feel the rays of sun again.  I see the beauty again.  Nope, not going to go backwards.  Onward.  Forward. 

Physical Pain

You know, I get to the point where I think I can forget about the things that happened and then my body reminds me.  Some things that were done with me are still hurting me months after moving to my own place to sleep.  And it never mattered.  I was guilted for the idea that I wanted to say no.  That I should be agreeable because it was within marriage.  And, today, when the pain is more, I remember vividly......remember crying myself to sleep.  Remember bleeding.  Remember how it hurt to take a bath.  And, in remembering, though at moments I just want to forget and stay and make it alright, it makes me more resolved to stand up for myself. 
To be braver.  To say "absolutely not."  You can't do that.  I have a line.  You may not cross it.
So, while I can forgive, can go on, I can't resolve the problem that again, I was not cherished but used.  I was put in a position of  of shame.  Of humiliation.  Literally and figuratively.  And, I wonder how that could not have mattered.  I wonder if I've ever really been loved.  I'm thinking that I've been needed.  Been used.  Been many things.....but not truly loved.  I desired to give the true kind of love.  But I forgot that I should get it too. 
Maybe physical pain can be a good thing.  A reminder that I'm not just being silly and emotional.  As I was bleeding today, I thought.....never, ever again.  No way.  Finished.

Healing Power

Everyone has been given something that ministers to them.  A gift that enables them to make it through the hard times.  For me, it's this writing.  Being able to share my heart with words.  It makes the stuff inside feel like it has a purpose...to share with others, to bring hope, to show empathy.  Knowing that others can be helped by my situation being shared makes it better.  Healing in a small way. 
I don't know what brought you here today.  I assume you were searching because you are hurting.  Wondering about divorce.  Wondering if any other christian women have the questions that you have.  If you got here, I can only assume that God brought you.  And I want you to know that I can only share where I am walking.  What I am learning.  I don't have any hard and fast answers.  I having musings.  And thoughts.  And hopes.  I have things that I'm beginning to understand.  there's so much more to grace than I have ever understood before. 
But, if you are here, know that you aren't alone.  God loves you.  Even if it IS all your fault.  Even if you are the one who has messed everything up in your marriage.  And He will walk with you.  If you just ask.  He has a plan for you.  To benefit you.  To give you hope and a future.  I love that.  I NEED hope. 
Some of the stuff I write isn't very happy.  It's downright brutally honest.  If that brings you down, skip those things.  I am trying to be as honest as possible.  Sometimes I want to just spend hours putting it all out there just so that those who come will know how many different emotions and feelings and worries there can be.
I am in a place of needing time away.  I haven't asked yet.  Or told.  I keep forgetting....I don't need permission.  But, I can't guarantee how that is going to go.  I am hoping that it will go well.  But, it's very likely to  going to be received i the way which I intend it.  I want to be apart so that more bad doesn't build up.  I want to heal.  I want to see what there really is and isn't.  I want to know without the armor up for either of us what we truly do have and what we don't have.
But, if you want to piss someone off I think asking for a separation could well be at the top of the list.  So, I'll keep praying until I know it's time.  We'll see. 

New Every Morning

God's faithfulness is new every morning.  Renewing body mind and spirit.  Even in my place of feeling like I have been completely misused.  I can face a day knowing that He has good in store.  Not that this pain will be taken away, but that it will be used to create in me something new.  I can trust him for that.
Even if the situation is never new.  Always same old.  And I hate that.  Hate the fact that I struggle with that so often.  Hate that I leave myself in this situation.  That I don't just say enough.  Let me out.  But saying that means so much to so many.  so, while I wait, I strive to grow.  To learn.  To learn what it means to be content.
He told me I'd stay for his money.  That I use him.  I'm sorry that he feels that way about me.  Sorry that he doesn't know me better.  I stay in order to give others a sense of security.  I stay....or actually, let him stay, because I am not hard hearted and callous. 
Is there something in us that deserves to walk in joy?  That needs joy and peace to be fulfilled?  And how do I find it in the every day?  How do I find it in a marriage that I have found to hurt me?  I work through these thoughts and wonder.  I think that a separation time would be good.  Time to grow and learn apart for awhile.  Not condemned nor pushed.  Time to learn what we really think.  What we really feel. 
Every single morning I arise by grace.  My body hurts, my emotions are all over the place, but there is an anchor holding me in the storm.  A firm hand guiding on my shoulder.  A rudder.  I am not lost at sea.  He makes all things new.  He is about new ways.  He provided a new way.  Streams in the desert, paths in the wilderness. Manna from heaven, a cloud by day and fire by night.  Every day.  Able to close mouths of lions.  Able to feed the hungry.  So, I'm thinking that HIS enough is enough for me.  For today.

Barter System

I used to think that a relationship with god was like a barter system; if I did a certain amount of good things and lived in a certain way, THEN, He would bless me and love me.  I didn't label it a barter system, but at my very core it was how I lived out my "faith".  And, who doesn't really, to some degree?  It seems so right to my frail little human brain.  But that "little" lie nearly destroyed the relationship that He longed to have with me.  He wanted so much more.  I understand that so much more now.
A barter system has no place in an intimate relationship, a friendship.  It works for business transactions or with people we don't know well.  "If you do this, then you can expect me to do this."
But, what I have learned is that I can expect God to be God no matter what I do.  He doesn't change.  He doesn't quit caring.  He can't love me more.  He already loves me while knowing everything about me. 
This knowledge is not revolutionary to anyone, I'm sure......but how many people walk around day to day trying to barter their way into love?  I'm thinking that the number must be very high.  With God.  With spouses.  With parents.  With friends. 
But love defies bartering.  It says, "you don't 'owe' me anything"...if you honor me, that is wonderful, but even if you don't, my love doesn't end. 
This is where my heart struggles.  How can a human offer this?  And at what cost? What about families that are abused?  I just can't reconcile that God would say that they should stay in that situation.  As I have said, it's a struggle for me....a growing place. 
What I have come to understand most deeply is that He understands better than anyone that we live in a fallen, difficult, painful world.  I think that He knows that we won't come through unscathed.  But He also knows that He can take those hurts and make something better.  I am beginning to believe....and maybe more than beginning.....that He is most about our relationship with HIM and holds a lot less against us than perhaps we have been led to believe. 
But the sad part in my life now is that it means that my husband changing his behavior to barter back to what things were doesn't work.  My paradigm has shifted.  I have changed.  That's not his fault.  Maybe it's mine.  Maybe it's not anyone's.  Maybe these things happen.  Maybe, sometimes, we just have to try to make the best out of messiness.  With as much grace as possible. 
What is very plain to my heart is that I'm no longer for sale.  I've already been bought.  And there's nothing I could do to earn that.  That was the greatest sacrifice.  I don't need to belittle it by thinking that I can buy something lesser with bartering.  Oh, but I have.  Over and over.  Willing to do or say what needed to be done or said to keep peace.  To try to make him content and happy.  Wrong reasoning on my part.  And on his.  I gave everything.  My name.  My career.  My dreams.  My wants.  My time.  My ideals.  I paid all I had.  It wasn't enough.  The barter system has been repealed.  Those who have no money can come and be filled....eat and drink.  I am relieved.  And sad.  The foundation crumbled.

Just Because

I often wonder if anyone else feels like I do.  If they sense how it feels to be of two minds.  To love, but to have changed.  To not love at all costs.  At great cost.  At sacrifice.  But learning that there is a line.  To love as you love yourself must mean that you can't quit loving nor taking care of yourself.....maybe?  But still to serve.  I thought that doing the one anothers....serve, love, think more highly of etc, would make something work.  It seems like the right formula.  Like the right approach.  Yet, here I am.  Knowing in the deepest way that "I'm not her."  I am not the woman of the year.  I do not make the one that I committed my life to happy.  Nor content.  Nor do I bring out the best in him.  Nor he in me.  There are things that I hate about myself now.  Things that I am feverishly working to rectify after too many years of bad habits.
This is not his fault.  I made my own choices.  I am, and have been, a big girl.  It's just this overwhelming sense that I didn't want the big battle.  The constant rut of bickering.  The ritual instead of relationship.  Because it drains me.  It eats away at my soul.  At my sense of having any worth. 
I had a pretty bad childhood.  Ok, really bad.  But, though now I am an adult and can decide, what is worse about this is that I allowed it to a degree.  I am my own voice.  I am the one who should stand for the me that God made.  But instead, I cowered.  I capitulated.  I caved.  At every turn.  I gave back what I got. 
Those times that I said "go"....sadly, I really meant it.  Because deep inside I knew that I was slowly losing something important.  Though at the time I didn't understand. 
But how do you tell someone that you can still love them but not want to continue?  How do you do it without meanness?  Is it even possible?
Not in the world that I've seen.  So, I hesitate.  In limbo.  Praying.  Regretful that it went so far that those many years can't be taken back.  Not so afraid anymore.  Just deeply saddened.  And yet, strangely, for the first time in many years, I can say that I have been truly happy in moments these past months.  I mean, deeply joyous.  Content.  Able to breathe in and breathe out.  How is it that it can always be that the best comes with the worst?  I don't know.  Maybe it just because.........
because Jesus loves me.  Just because.

Believe

I know that this blog is full of emotions.  Full of pain, anger, wondering and searching.  I don't have all of the answers, but what I do hope and pray that if anyone one day runs across it that it will minister to their heart.  That it will reach inside and meet a need that only God knew it was meant for.  I want for others to see my pain, my journey, and my continual hope and know that there is a way through.  There is a way. A path.  The journey is not without hope.  Life is still beautiful, even in the midst of the pain.  And, we, the hurting, are still worth loving, even if we feel completely emptied and alone. 
This place will not last forever.  I keep reminding myself of that.  But, this is the one life I get.  Each day.  Each moment.  I need to breathe.  I need to grow.  I need to learn.  Somehow I need to remember.  I need to keep going.  Keep living.  This is what I have.  So, I must do what I need to to get through.  Pray seek love live give hope.
It's what makes each day ok.  Even in the midst. 

Beautiful Morning

There's snow outside today.  The car is warming up.  I am enjoying this little bit of time when my husband goes early on this day and I don't have to rush out quite so fast.  Although, I have to be careful because he always stops back by and I can get "caught".  It's a little bit strange how he leaves and comes back.  Often I feel like he's checking up on me.  Funny for the  guy who is usually gone for at least 12 hours a day.  Not including his various weekly activities.  But, I've long since gotten used to the fact that the standard is different.  If he is gone, I cook for my kids.  If I am gone, they cook and plan for him.  Hmm.  Guess maybe I raised them better than I've been thinking.  They know I buy food.  They know where it is.  They know to eat it.  AND, they know how to cook up something tasty.  However last time I was gone they told me that he left them a note because he left in the morning telling them to clean teh house. Funny.  They were having a party that night and were going to clean the house because they wanted to. 
But this morning is gorgeous.  I wish there was a friend to go have coffee with.  Wish that it was easier to reach out.  But, these days, it has been kind of hard.  I feel needy and so I tend to be really careful.  I don't want to suffocate the other people in my life.  Although, I do at times.  When we do things, it feels so good to just breathe.  To be with people who love me for me.  What a blessing it is.  Perhaps pain is good in that it makes me see good more clearly.  It makes me more appreciative of what I have.  It gives my perspective a boost in the right direction.  Sometimes I even think that if I have such great friends I surely can't be as awful as he makes me feel. 
Why is he so belittling?  Why does he put on a nice face to make things better and then always go right back to the other?  I keep on asking why why why.  But none of the answers are satisfying.  Maybe it is because my deepest fear is that I am the whole and total cause.  Maybe he is the perfect man and I have simply not done this well.  Feelings of failure and total despair threaten at times.  Though, not this morning.  This mornig, I am pretty certain that perhaps we just did something quickly and without enough forethought. But if I had thought more, I wouldn't have these kids.  So, do I regreat our fast marriage?  No.  But I regreat that I couldn't be the person that would make him happy.  I wasn't from the very beginning.  And it is not getting better.  I am tired of hiding away to cry.  Of not having someone to give ME compassion.  He always turns what I need into something else, cries, tries to make ME COMFORT HIM.  But I won't be drawn in anymore.  I have withdrawn that way. 
I want to be kind.  I want to be mature.  I honestly believe that two adults should be able to look at something and realize it just doesn't work.  The problem being, too much time has passed.  I have said everything in every way I know how.  I used to write to him.  No more.  It allows a person too deeply into my heart.  But he has never been willing to step back and see that we needed to do this in a better way.  Because I am also a committed person.  I am willing to go the whole way.  But not with a team mate who will only use me.  I am not willing to settle for something that looks good to others.  I wanted the real deal.  I fought for the real deal.  I worked for the real deal.  The true marriage.  Not just in looks, but in heart and spirit.  It does not exist here.  For him, it's alla bout looks.  All about the rules.  If you stay then you've accomplished the goal.  If you simply stay but don't learn nor grow, you become stagnant and the relationship dies.  As has happened. 
I hurt for him.  I don't know that he is even capable of understanding that.  As incredibly smart as he is, this maybe evades him.  Or, maybe not, maybe he just chooses to do what has always worked.  Bully me back into my place.  The other night he started in on a financial deal that he had been throwing out there each evening.  Finally I said, I said I would do it.  I need help to get some things done on the computer.  Why do you keep badgering me about it? He didn't speak to me for the rest of the evening. Closed the bedroom door and went to bed....I guess.  Actually probably was watching tv.  And then, the next morning he was all "goodbye,dear."  The word dear makes me kind of ill now.  Seriously, please quit calling me dear when I am not dear to you......I know it's just a habit, but it gives me the willies.
So, how can I call this a beautiful morning with all of the crap in life?  Because God's faithfulness was new for me today.  And enough.  And right here, where I am, there is enough love to keep me.  No matter what.  He is big enough.  Loving enough.  And He gets it.  He sees me even if nobody else does.  He always has.  He brought me through all of my life that was much harder than this.  This is difficult, but I am a grown up and I know that the bottom line is that I have choices.  I didn't used to have them as a child.  I am not alone.  I am cared for.  Provided for.  He knows my name. 

Shoulda

I should have slunk off to bed before nine.  Before he arrived home.  Been knowing that IT was coming...the every two week whatever.  Yep.  "You should pay for the groceries and necessities out of your savings this month...."  aaaarrrrgggghhh.   Nope.  Got no savings.  But, I'll do what I can.  Like clockwork, I can guarantee that these conversations have to take place when I'm exhausted and feeling vulnerable.  I seriously shoulda gone to been about 8 before he got home and avoided the whole thing.  Now I have to deal with the heartache.  Blah.

Self Doubt

From my writing, you probably get the impression that I know exactly what I want and that I am thinking that I am in the right.  That's very far from the truth.  I am riddled with self doubt.  I often wonder if I've done any good for the people I love the most.  I wish that I could have been a better, more "normal" woman and wife for the man I married.  I look at my kids and I wonder if I really helped them.  They are wonderful.  Strong.  Mostly kind.  Good kids.  Nice people.  Growing.  Learning.  But....I doubt myself.  All of the time.  I raised them mostly on my own as far as discipline and spiritual guidance.  I have failed in many ways.  But, I just keep trying to trust that God knew what He was doing and that He will take care of all of the parts I was too immature or too dense to do.  I doubt whether my friendship has changed anyone's life.  I mean, I have BEEN changed, but have I given backin the world the vast amount that I have been given?  I doubt my abilities.  I fear that I am what has been told to me.  Some of it is true.  Very true.  And yet, because the things are true, does it make them bad?  Do they make ME bad?  I doubt my basic value.  I've never had a family to count on.  Maybe it was my fault?  My mom died when I was small.....I used to wonder if she left because I was too much to handle and I think that those doubts still assail me, though I know that they are bogus. 
The thing is this:  self doubt obliterates faith.  It crushes.  Disappoints.  Immobilizes.  Terrifies.  So, though those doubts lurk every day, I am choosing to see what I can from a stand point of how things are.  Not who is to blame.  My husband is one way.  I am a totally different way.  Perhaps I am the "wrong" way, but I can't change it after 20 years, so I have finally come to the position that I need to change the relationship.  I can't say he's "wrong".  He's him.  I can say that he has made some choices that  make relationships difficult at best.  Honestly, I hope he finds someone else.  I hope that he finds "that woman" because I'm not her.  And not being her has eaten at me for far too long.  I need to bask in who I was created to be.  Quit living trying to be what I will never be.  You can dress a bunny up as a cat, but it isn't going to meow.
Self doubt is with me strongly today.  I want SO badly to KNOW that I'm not bad.  That I have contributed.  But, all I can do is trust God to keep leading.  To keep loving.  to hold me.  To shelter me.  To crown me with His glory....undeserving though I am.  Because you simply can't walk up to someone and say, "tell me I'm not a complete waste of time."

The Game

If one person in a relationship continually pretends like everything is just fine when things are really troubled.  If one person continually refuses to acknowledge a need to live differently.  If one person behaves as if a fight never occurred.  Then everyone is really in trouble.  Because life becomes a game.  And nobody is going to win.  The basis of everything becomes false.  I'm there.  He doesn't come home until hours after he says he'll be home.  I don't care.  I don't come home, he acts like it is a personal thing.  I wouldn't cheat on him.  No interest in jumping into some other relationship with my hurting, whimpering, needing to heal self.  I want time to get back on my feet.  To feel better.  He will need someone.  He has a hard time doing things on his own.  He's really smart.  He's able.  But, if he decides all on his own and it's a failure, he has trouble handling that.  Maybe it's his competitive nature.
What's funny is that for a wedding gift, I gave him games and toys.  Stuff to play.  And, for awhile, I thought that it would be fun.  It didn't really last long.  Winning means too much to him.  I knew it when he played a five year old in checkers and didn't know that he should go easy.  Or basketball with an 11 year old who he made cry.  More than once.  That's how life has been.  Kids cry because he is harshly competitive.  We have fought over it ad nauseum.  I don't play games with him much anymore.  That's ok, he doesn't consider me a worthy opponent since he knows that I will throw a game just for the heck of it. 
But, games are one thing.  Being competitive is good.  In the right venue.  But, when life becomes a competition....that is wrong.  And it hurts.  So, I am refusing to play the game.  Won't compete.  Won't play the game.  And it's frustrating to play the game by himself.  But, he is still trying.  Acting like all is ok.  Or making a once every couple of weeks attempt at badgering.  Nope.  I refuse.  To fight.  To play.  To behave as if what has happened is ok.  It is not ok.  Life is not a game.  And my heart isn't something to mess with.  So there.  ha. 
It is peculiar how the game becomes intricate with rules of its own and lasts through the years.  It's like a monopoly game on steroids.  Each one trying to land in the right space.  Trying not to owe too much.  You know, all I ever wanted was just to walk with someone else peacefully and with delight.  Because life is delightful.  Life is good. 
But when I tell him how I feel, he makes it part of the game.  A game of changing the words around.  Switching meaning.  And I cringe.  Maybe I am a heartless b****.  I truly don't want to be.  But, if the shoe fits?  One of my first clues that something was really wrong was when I realized that being with him makes me not only doubt myself but feel badly about myself.  Seems like the one who is supposed to love you most would make you feel good about yourself.  But he takes delight in making me feel badly about me.  About how I was raised.  Finally I told him that my family was an acknowledged dysfunctional family....but that his was in denial.  So that while I knew and understood my baggage, he acts like he has none.  snort.  Right.  Sure.  Yet another game. 
Games should be chosen carefully to play.  And they should never be in relationships.

Looking back, looking ahead, living now

Several year ago, I asked my husband to leave.  This came after years of his being bitter and unkind.  He was taking out monetary losses on his family.  He completely annihilated me.  Told me how low that was.  How he would never do such a thing.  How he wasn't my father.  I told him that at least my father didn't stay around and make people miserable to make himself feel better.  But, looking even further back, I remember the times that I would get out of the car because I couldn't stand his badgering.  Every conversation is like a competition.  And, I would walk.  He would always act like nothing had happened.  Or the times when he willfully would hurt me and that he thought that it was funny.  I remember being hit with a whiffle ball when I was very pregnant.  He threw it hard.  It left a large welt.  Apparently that was hysterical.  When I see him with our kids I see how he looks right in so many ways.  Plays ball.  Or board games.  But, he isn't able to share with them that he loves them.  I've always done that for him.  He doesn't interact and communicate with them.  He competes with them.  Even with me.  It has never been the both of us giving them attention, it has been me trying to give EVERYONE attention.  When they were babies he felt like his needs came first.  I never got a backrub or time off without sex being absolutely expected.  And I was very compliant.  I tried to be interested.  Tried to keep up the energy when I was exhausted from having 5 kids in 6 years.  Tried to cook the meals.  Clean the house.  Tried to be what I was "SUPPOSED" to be.  And the trying wore me out.  And I determined to be content with what was.  Over and over through the years.  Even now.  This is what is....need to learn to be content.
Ahead, I see a different life.  I simply can't live like this anymore.  I am in desperate need of peace, but also of the ability to have an adventure.  to be free to breathe even when money or life isn't easy.  To trust God.  To not have every burden, real or imagined, laid at my doorstep.  And that's how it is at our house.  He especially likes to wait until late at night to lay the worries of the world on me.  but, if I try to talk to him about anything, he simply goes to sleep.  Or walks away to take care of a project.  And it hurts.  But not anymore.  Because now I have given in to the fact that he doesn't really have the capacity to care.  So, in the future, I plan to live differently.  I don't know how he fits into it.
But, I still have to live today.  And that's painful at best.  Because it means waiting.  It means having to tell him that I can't do this.  It means facing that I have failed.  And the failing is absolutely horrible.  Today would have been my grandpa's birthday.  I miss him.  A Godly man.  But practical.  Kind.  I miss his love that held on even when I was disappointing.  Because right now I feel like I'm disappointing the world.  And I won't tell them what the whole problem is.  Really, what is the point in loading people down with a bunch of painful stuff?  But there are moments when people think I can't possibly know how hurtful their lives are and I want to shout that I do.
Remember those years ago when I asked him to leave?  Well, I came back from a trip and decided to give it one more go.  As things would happen, some friends suffered an incredibly painful divorce.  And, for a time, he exhibited some  things that were amazing. He took care of my friend.  He was kind.  But, even in the midst of this...he blamed me for several things.  And, the worst moment of all was when he promised absolutely not to leave me alone where the estranged husband was going to be at church with us.  And, after a verbal altercation, he left me anyway.  Without saying anything.  Without telling me I should leave.  I remember thinking how I trusted him and how he covered his own butt and left me.  I let everyone think that he was the hero because he had verbally told the guy to leave me alone.  But how I felt left alone.  And after that, he apologized to the people for having defended me.  And something died.  Again.  Over and over.  Piece by piece.  Like gangrene.  Finally, what might of been only exists as a distant memory.  And I look forward to a life when my kids are grown and I am free to choose.
But, some moments, my heart breaks.  I know that I might lose the respect of those I care about the most.  I am afraid that they will leave me in their disappointment in me.  I am steeling myself to allow them to do so without resorting to belittling him.  And that is going to be mind blowingly difficult.
But I am going to LIVE.  Really live.  Life goes by too quickly to simply exist and keep your head down and try not to make any waves.  I want to makes waves.  In a good way.  I want to laugh.  Without feeling guilty.  At our house, he has to approve or lead out in the humor or apparently it is not funny.  I'm tired of that life.
I am tired of life being all about what is accomplished.  About behaving "right".  Not about growing. Not about grace.  I am being sucked dry.
But will anyone in the world understand?  Probably not.

Keep Getting Up

Sometimes the hardest thing about being in a difficult place, in a difficult relationship, is getting back up...and getting back up again.  How many times do I cry and hurt alone and wonder why I do that.  Why do I allow it to bother me so much.  It's easier to be self condemning than it is to call things what they are.  And, self condemnation makes it really hard to stand back up again.  So,  each day, I am trying to remember that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ.  None.  At all.  Not even a little bit.  And if He chooses not to condemn me....then, who am I to think that I should?  I do believe in taking responsibility for my actions and lack of actions, but responsibility is not the same and condemning myself.  Responsibility means standing back up, acknowledging the past and choosing to change in the future. 
I know that I have lots of growing to do.  But, at the moment, just resting in the fact that the Father loves me is really important.  If I focus on all of the garbage and all of the pain, I think I'd climb under the covers for a year.  It's simply too hard.  I wanted to be a great wife.  A marvelous mom.  I wanted to be welcomed into my extended family.  I remember picturing how great it would be to have that extended family.  How was I to know that I'd have a mother in law who hates me...and tells people bad things about me...and that my husband would never find it within himself to stand for me?  I am strong.  I really thought that through the years I would win her over.  I thought that she would see that I'm kind and that I am raising her grandkids well and be happy with me.  It is not to be.  I have yet to find anything that I do right.  And, as my husband ages, he becomes more and more like his mother.  Frightening for the one who has endured her disdain.  Who has had her visit and had to keep silent.  Who spoke once on behalf of one of our foster kids and was forced by her husband to apologize...though his mother had completely annihilated the child's sense of self esteem.
I will not live this way anymore.  The way she feels about me does not make up who I am.  I am a child of a loving Father who only asks that I walk one day at a time with Him.  Who sees every fault and yet declares me faultless.  Who blesses me.  Who protects me. And, amazingly enough, who delights in me.  Greatly.  Wow.  But, it's hard to live like it.  I feel hunkered down.  Thank goodness that He is the lifter of my head, because sometimes I can barely do so. 
People have a sense that I have great confidence and that I am brave.   I guess that I am.  And, I can withstand much.  But I broke.  Completely.  I'm surprised that I have come through as well as I have because there was a moment over a year ago when I knew it had happened.  I knew that the relationship was mortally wounded.  I knew that no amount of apologizing was going to make me feel better....though the apologizing didn't happen...so I guess that thought didn't matter.  It was with clarity that I knew in the middle of a tirade that I absolutely couldn't live like this anymore.  I couldn't live shaking when he was around.  I couldn't live crying myself to sleep.  Though, sometimes that still happens...but, somehow, it's actually better now because I don't expect him to try to make it better.  So, I cry and then I get up the next day and live.  And then I do it again.  And, I find that I cry less.  Laugh more.  Enjoy more.  Am happier.  In the midst of all of this.  I am happy that he is not wrapped around me.  That he is not controlling me any longer. 
And I know that lots of people would be very offended.  But, try as I might, I can't find god telling me that how I feel and what I need is wrong.  When I pray, it is peaceful.  When I read His word, it is encouraging.  I'm not saying that it doesn't grieve Him, but just this last couple of weeks I realized that His grief does not translate into disappointment nor in telling me that I better go fix this at all costs.  He loves ME.  Not the person who cowers around trying to get it right.  Just the bumbling, somewhat clumsy but generally happy and encouraging person that he created.  And that helps me.  It gets me up over and over.  It makes me believe that one day I might actually FEEL like I'm worth that.  I don't yet.  But, I have hope for the first time in a very very long time that I might.
And, yes, I still hope he gets a job in another city.  I still hope that I will have a room to sleep in instead of on this couch.  But, better a couch with little privacy than a big bed with animosity.  I have to say that I still have trouble sleeping, but in a different way.  Less worry.  But, not terribly comfortable either. ;)  A little difficult if there's company of the kids over and such.  However, I don't worry about it as much.  I'm not out for making a huge great impression. 
I wish that he would quit pretending everything is alright.  That drives me rather crazy.  Being nice is ok.  It's even good.  Being polite.  Learning to relate in a new way.  But, acting like it's all still the same...can I kiss you?  Can I kiss you again?  I shuddered last time.  But, what do you say?  Sure, I guess.  He knows I don't want him to.  He knows that I am hurt.  But he chooses not to care.  He chooses to meet his own needs and make me feel guilty if I don't accomodate him.  That the hardest part for me at the moment.  How to keep getting up and facing that kind of stuff.  Mostly, we do our own stuff and leave it be.  But then, when he acts pitiful, it's hard.  But, I have never had that option...of having MY needs met when he doesn't want to.  Shoot, he won't even offer to take the kids to school at the crack of dawn.  Though he said that when they had to go early he would take it over.  So glad I have a teen driver now to take some of that driving over.  But, I leave when they leave in the morning so as not to get stuck at home with the husband and his wants.  Can't handle it.  Hard to keep saying, "I can't do that...not honestly...not in good conscience." 
But, hey, one small moment at a time.  I dread the next confrontation, but I know it will come, and I just pray to be able to tell the truth.  It's so much easier to want to say what makes him feel better.  I really don't want to make him feel crappy.  Funny how I've always protected him.  Always cared that he looked good.  Always cared that he felt encouraged and built up.  I bet he misses that.

Man Card

Ok, so seriously, I think that they give out man cards too easily.  I mean, isn't a man supposed to have certain qualities?  Like being strong....at least some of the time....emotionally as well as physically?  And, isn't he supposed to have a sense of pride in his family?  Guess it's all wishing.  All fairy tale and no substance.  But, what woman doesn't want someone to say that it's going to be alright...because he is going to make it so by sacrificing and caring and doing what it takes?  I mean, what were the fairy tales based on?  Dreams?  Hopes?  Or,  is there something else?  I'm not really sure.  But, I have lived with a man who will not make a decision by himself.  I used to think it was nice.  Until I realized that not making a decision means making sure that someone else can take the blame.  That's what it is...isn't a man supposed to be "the buck stops here" one in the family?  The protector...of hearts as well as from monsters and imagined intruders?  About five years ago God led me to see that I can't be mother and father.  That if my husband does not take his role and do it, then it isn't done...even by me.  I can fill in on logistical things, but I can never meet the emotional and spiritual needs that my kids have for a father.  But, He reassured me that it was ok.  That He not only COULD, but that He WOULD and that He would do so willingly.  A huge weight lifted at that point. 
My husband had gone to a men's retreat where they said that spiritual training really was usually and best done by moms.  Which, was, I believe, part of the lesson.  It's true.  It's not all about a dad being the spiritual teacher.  But, my husband never again tried.  Used it as an excuse.  Doesn't pray with our kids, nor with me.  Never taught them about their bible or gave them one to read.  He has never exhibited how to make a decision based on God's word.  Not once.  Based on knowledge, yes.  But, I have come to realize that wisdom goes so much further than knowledge when combined with faith.  What looks impossible and maybe even foolish is sometimes the very best course of action.  Losing a job can be the biggest blessing ever.  No way.  Not to my husband.  Nope.  I feel sad for what he has missed out on.  The faith walk he could have had while raising a family.  Although he has always been provided for....albeit sometimes at the last moment or in ways that were difficult, he still chooses constant worry.  Incessant.  And I can't live with it.  It eats at me.  Robs my sleep.  And as I think of my ideals about the "man card", I realize that in this very area I wish that he would have shouldered some of those burdens over the years.  Instead, he has always dumped them on me.  Too bad for him.  Too bad for the kids.  Too bad for me.  But, I guess shouting, "man up!" won't change anything, so I will try to be kind.  Try to be compassionate.  Try to realized that we each do the best we can.

Sometimes

Sometimes, actually, sometimes it's many times, I have trouble remembering whose I am.  I have trouble knowing that I am worth loving.  It's like too many years of experience have combined and cemented in certain thoughts. 
I was reminded of this today when there was a huge hullabaloo because a child got an "infraction" for fighting last week.  The parents are consumed by it's unfairness.  The child "doesn't understand if he is good or bad because he got a track (good note home for a deed well done) and he got an infraction for fighting.  Well, welcome to the world.  Funny how even the parents didn't realize that they were addressing the wrong question.  We, all of us, as people are neither good or bad.  We do deeds....good and bad....but as a people, though we are sinful, I don't see that God ever calls us "bad".  I mean, if we are made in His image, are we really "bad"?  We make choices....we do wrong things...we do good things.  Our VALUE is not dependent on EITHER.  One does not outweigh the other.
But, so many years have been put in of my hearing how I am not what I should be.  How I'm not like everyone else.  How I am irresponsible.  How I am hardhearted.  How I just don't get it.  And those voices play in my soul.  Not just in my head.  Even when I try not to listen to them, I still have emotional reactions as if I were.  BUT, thankfully, though I have those feelings, I am learning to stop them there.  to not let them consume me in self doubt and wallowing.  That is progress.
About a year ago, I was shopping at a thrift store for a lamp and I couldn't make the decision to buy a lamp for $10 because I had been so beaten down about money and spending.  I realized that day that I was not going to be able to live like that anymore.  I would agonize on whether I really "needed" a new mascara.  Or underwear.  Or even bras.  I swear, I have had bras way past their expiration.  All out of some sense that by behaving in certain ways that I could make myself more lovable.  It doesn't work.  If someone can't see me for who I am and choose to love me....then, I guess they don't love ME.  They might love my efforts.  Or my abilities.  Or what I give to them.  Or my ability to meet their needs.  There are lots of things they might "love", but those things don't reach into me and make me know that I'm loved.  Secure.  Wanted.  Treasured.  Valued.  Hey, it only took me 20 years to get a clue about this.  To see the constant rut of my life and realize that I am not all at fault.  What a relief.  And what a tragedy.  Because the hardest thing that I've had to work through is figuring out what things about me are "loved" and that at the bottom line, who I am is not.  Talk about a grueling, painful, self-examining time.  But, then I can look at the relationship as a whole more clearly.  I can realize that I was not crazy.  I was not to blame for every problem that ever occurred.  I shared a life.  Goods and bads.  And responsibility belongs to both.  Yes, I mean myself as well.  I know that "should'ves" are kind of dumb, but I should have wised up and said what was what a long time ago.  But, maybe not.  My kids are nearly grown.  Life, now that we are somewhat separated, is pretty peaceful.  I think that they know, but they don't panic because there's not so much fighting.  I, for one, am glad for that.

My Bucket List Begun

Well, everyone seems to have one.  A bucket list.  A list of dreams and hopes...things to do before they die.  Mine is evolving in my brain.  Slowly.  But, still, it is a beginning.
I want to live overseas for a year.  Sit on the French Riviera.....stroll street markets.  Live in a flat,  not as a tourist. 
I want to own a little beach house.  Not too big to keep clean, but big enough for a little company.  Must have a fireplace. 
I want to publish a book.  The idea is already percolating....now, to gain the courage.
I want to learn to dance.....somewhere relaxing and comfortable, because I really suck, but I think I'd really enjoy it.
I want to play my guitar again.....just for me.  Just because. 
I want to learn how to paint furniture well.....with lots of whimsical colors for chairs on patios and stuff.
Oh, at my beach house....a garden.  Definitely.  Flowers galore...and all of the veggies that I like. Maybe I'd even have one of those little honor system flower stands.  But probably not.  I'd just give them away.
And my best friend as a neighbor.  That would be awesome.
That's it for the moment.
Nothing great nor grand.  I just like time to putter around my home.  And I'd like to choose where my home is.  I like to write on those stormy, cloudy, beach days...so it all fits for me.
Now, I need to pray on it.  Believe that all is not hopeless.  Because I have been told no so much that I started hearing it in my head.  But, with God........ALL things are possible!!!  I love that. 

The Heart of the Matter

My heart has been cheated on.  Used.  Abused.  The love I gave was trifled with.  The whole self that I went into this commitment with was taken forgranted and completely left out to dry.  When moments come where there is a decision between his comfort, happiness and mine, he always chooses him.  But, right now he is in the mode he uses to convince me that I'm at fault.  He makes some kind gestures.  Speaks more kindly...kind of, but actually, it's just kind of creepy.  Because what I hav learned after 20 years is that as soon as he gets what he wants...as in sex or the house picked up or whatever....he simply relegates me to unimportant.  Very early on I told him that his behavior made me feel like a prostitute.  Like he pays me with being nice.  He especially likes to do it in front of other people.  Because doing that assures that everyone can tell me how good he is.  Then, when he isn't the same way to me, he cries and blames me that he is not who he should be.  It has nearly driven me crazy.  I just can't spend time with him now.  Though there is this charming, funny guy, he hurts me.  Deeply and profoundly. 
But I am so alone in this.  I know that God sees and gets it.  But I just can't even tell my gal friends how it is to live here.  It scares me that they'll tell me how crazy I am.....how perfect he is.  You know, it's a hard place to be when I'm beaten down by a person that I really have loved....and do love, but in a different way now.  Now it has entered a self preservation mode.  I love him, but I realize that living in the type of giving relationship I was in was sucking me dry.  He doesn't input.  It's funny how he gives to so many.  Looks so marvelous, but if I ask for something, he puts it right out of mind.  How he'll apologize to others, but an apology to me takes a knock down drag out fight and his blaming me and finally breaking down and bawling what an awful man he is and he shouldn't have ever been born blah blah blah...... Yeah, I know....yes, I did buy it for an awful lot of years.  Manipulation. 
But when I am hurting, in pain, whatever, there is no comfort.  It's more like "if you exercise more", or "buck up."  There is no reciprocation.  If I want something, I get to barter for it.  And I'm tired of being used as currency.  It was always if I went out with the girls and he stayed with the kids, then I was expected to perform when I got home...no matter what time.  Life revolves around him when I try to love him well.  And not in a good way.  In an unhealthy, insidious way.  Like being drained out and he only puts in what he wants to get back out for HIM.  He doesn't give to our kids either.  Words of kindness.  Encouragement.  Love.  I can say that in a last ditch effort because the other things haven't worked, he is actually coming out of his room in the morning to say good bye to them.  He knows that my heart is best reached through the children. 
It's sad that I wanted so much for him with them.  To relate.  To see them.  To treasure them.  I don't think he is capable.  He only sees what is lacking.  So, he tries to do the things that he thinks are good, but they come from a list, not from a heart of being completely enamored with them.  And it shows.  Glaringly.  He wants to simply do it and be done with it...not be changed by it and by them.  It's just another way to use someone.  To get what he wants out of life.  He is missing so very much.  It makes me sick to my stomach.  Because I always think that I should make it better.  But I've tried.  So much.  So long.  And it gets worse, not better.  Worse as the kids become not kids.  As they fly, he doesn't know what to do when he's not the center.  When being with them isn't about him and games or something that he can control.  When their lives takeon their own life.
I wish that I could have made it work.  But right now, all I really wish is that he would fade away.  Go away.  I keep hoping that he will get transferred with his work.  I hope he gets a big old raise and goes.  And, you are wrong....not because I want the money.  Because I want him to go live with all that money and see how it feels his need.  But, sadly, I think it will.  Or would.  If we separated, I wouldn't ask for maintenance or child support.  I would ask that he send each child $400 a month until they are thirty.  A check written directly to them.  And he may not ask what they do with it.  Ha.  No way.  He has to control their money too.  But, he can't anymore.  So, he instead belittles them when they spend some.  When they make purchases, he makes them feel small.  Like they made a bad decision.  Just another hole in the fabric of relationship. 
So, I wait and pray.  Hope.  Grow.  Breathe.  Rest.  Ask for help from friends sometimes.  But, frankly, it seems I'll mostly be walking this road alone.  Because I don't think that I have to tell everyone about the shortcomings or how he works or how hurtful he has been.  I don't feel like making them hate him.  Well, some days it's all I can do not to say, "but he's such a jackass, don't you know that he just does that to look good?"  But, thus far, the temptation has not come to fruition.  In some ways it would feel better.  In other ways, it would make me feel like less.  Like I am having to justify or something like that.  Honestly, the friends I am interested in having in the future will be there whether they get it or not.  I have lost the need to have everyone like me.  Ok, not really, but a little more than before.  Being likes is nice, but not at the cost of my personal walk, not when it requires giving up my own being to satisfy the rest of the world.
The heart of the matter is that there is no foundation of mutual trust and selflessness.  If I behave selflessly then he sucks it all up.  And, I totally don't know whether there has been or is someone else.  He never answers.  Maybe he thinks that I'd care.  But, I really don't anymore.  

In the Hard Times

On the hardest days, I have learned to breathe.  Learned that no well is so deep that I am unreachable.  I saw a drawing today of a woman in a well with a rope lowered down...there were large hands on the rope holding it firmly...the woman was climbing the rope.  I have never viewed my rescue like that...I view it more as those hands reaching down, tying that rope around me and hauling my rather pitiful body out.  Because, when I am in the well, there is no way to get myself out.  But out I will be taken.  I will be lifted up.  Though I may fall again.
How in the world did I get to this place in my life?  I know that I did things that allowed it.  I should have spoken up.....but, I did.  But, I think that I should have been more persistent about my needs.  But, I can't figure out how to have spelled them out anymore.  Really, if someone wants to hear or see, they do....otherwise they are blind and deaf out of choice.  How can you make someone love you when they don't.  I'm not talking about remaining committed.  I'm talking about being truly, selflessly loved.  I've been told so many times that I'm so lucky that I got him.  That I should be thankful that such a great guy married me.  And, I look and I see what they see, and they are right.  If he actually had those feelings and that sense of having thought that I was important at all then it would have been different.  But somehow he has no sense of anyone but him.  It takes a long time to see it.  It has been my children getting older that has pointed it out.  He wants things his way.  Still wants to play his games.  Wants to compete endlessly.  Wants to make them perform harder, better and more perfectly.  He does things around the house so that he can point out to us how we fall short....how he does so much.  He likes nothing better than when I've been gone and come home because then he gets to show me how I should be doing it.  But, the fact remains that I raised our kids when he worked nights.  Slept days.  I raised our kids when he did many different activities.  And getting to raise them is the very best thing that has ever been gifted to me.  Ever.
But the hard times come.  And it's not like you go around talking about it.  I go into church and everyone asks, "how are you?"  or "did you do something with that wonderful husband of yours for Valentine's Day?" and it's hard.  Except I know now that it's not really.  It's only as hard as I make it.  Because really, perhaps questions asked by people who haven't bothered to know me shouldn't matter so much?  When the hard times come perhaps I can simply remember that they will pass. 
It is very hard to know that I have failed.  Whether we stay together or not, I failed.  I gave it all I had and he has never been happy.  Always disappointed.  I've always fallen short.  And over four years ago I thought I couldn't do it anymore.  I told him then that he should go away for awhile so we wouldn't grow to hate or resent one another.  He didn't.  Obviously.  And here we are.  I sleep on the couch.  Gladly in a way.  At least it's a reprieve.  A relief.  I keep my clothes in a dresser in the bathroom.  I spend as little time in the same room as possible.  I desperately don't want to fight anymore.  And I finally am healing inside a bit.  I feel it.  A sense that maybe there's hope for me.  The real me.  Maybe she doesn't have to be gone forever.  Makes me cry even here now writing after he has gone to bed.  Sneaking this time in.  I do long for a day when I don't have to "sneak" the things that bring me pleasure.  When I can have a room to be in.  On a bed that didn't belong to my grandparents....that my grandfather died in.....and he's too cheap to let me get another bed.  He can have it. 
Yep, it's hard times.  My heart aches that I wasn't enough.....and yet is finally, blessedly, relieved that I'm not trying to make it happen all of the time.  My heart is not hard.  But, it is being carefully guarded.  I am asking desperately for wisdom.  In the midst of it all, I want to grow.  I want to be who it is that I know that I can be.  I don't want to be sucked into simply being someone who is constantly responding to someone's bad feelings about them.  I want to live.  I want to give.  Last year, my husband gave about 100 bucks to our church.  Seriously?  I was stunned.  I know that we have bills.  I know that we have things to pay off.  I KNOW.  But, really?  I hope he learns to open his hands at some point in his life.  But, I'm tired of being the one that makes him look good....makes him look generous.  I did it willingly.  but, it makes me feel physically ill now to think of how he really is..  I made him look better in the world.  I wish he would have known that.
I know, it's a serious thing to be "done"....but I am sssooo done.  The hard times now seem to be just trying to know how to be kind and truthful.   All at once.  Because I choose that I will not live those other hard times anymore.  Ever.  Because if I go back to it, I will completely disappear.  And I used to wonder if anyone even missed me or noticed....but, now I know....I miss me.  And that's enough reason to change.  

No Rest

I think things would be better if I could rest at my home.  But since that's not allowed, I am tired.  Weary of trying to be busy.