The morning comes. I love that. Especially when I've got a little time to do and think. Like...a weekend!!! So, I awakened very early this morning. As I lay wondering how early it was, it was nice for it not to matter. And I got to have some absolutely quiet time. With nobody having any expectations of me. It was refreshing. Revitalizing. Comforting. Encouraging.
Because I realize that the reason that I suffer in the now is coming out of living in the numb place is painful. It's like having my teeth worked on with an anesthetic and how it doesn't hurt while they do the work.....but after, as the anesthesia wears off, the pain doesn't grow, it is just noticed. The pain was there, but I was numbed to it. I remember when I got to the point that I couldn't cry and I wondered why. That was at some point after I spent so much time crying alone. After awhile, a giving in takes place. Or maybe a giving up. A resigning of self. Of will. A deciding to just make it through. Whether it was conscious or not, I'm not sure. But I do know that it occurred without me sitting down and thinking, "this is what I need to do...".
I think that the hardest thing for me right now is that I don't have words to use to describe what happened to me in my marriage. If I call it abusive, that seems unfair. It seems like, "but it was only....". The bruises that I have never purpled. Never got a bump. Because he would never hit me. The words he used were never, you worthless slut or such. No, there was an insidious, scarily sweet tone. There was being helpless or so depressed about what he was...how he was...on his part. In my whole marriage there was never a time that it was just at ease. Where I could say what I needed or wanted and have it met with maturity and kindness. Every single thing, conversation, need, hope....it all revolved around him. He was not concerned about me, he was concerned about how he looked, how it would affect him, how it would cost him, how people would perceive him. I'm learning that he didn't love me. And that's hard. Oh, he had feelings for me. He needed. He used. He depended. He leaned. He put down or competed so that he could be above me. But honestly, I was never enough that he could put himself aside. He couldn't see me because of himself. His need to do for himself. But how that felt to me...was always not being enough. Not being able to get what I needed because I didn't feel important enough, pretty enough, capable enough, neat enough, smart enough. but...i will never be sure if it was because i wasn't enough or if it is because he just doesn't see anyone but himself. maybe there is someone out there that he will love for real? As much as himself. That's not me. He harmed me by making my dreams....stupid. By living for himself and expecting me to live for him too. By holding our children back with criticism. By harshness. Grumpiness. Unkindness. And in the midst of it, he would be so funny when other people were around. Be so helpful to them. But no matter what I asked...he had something else to do. Oh, except those rose boxes he built twice. I wasn't allowed to have things that were important to me. Nor people. Jealousy was his mode of "love". He didn't want my time and he didn't want to have to just be with me....unless he perceived that someone else would. And eventually, I was numb. Able to smile and keep going. I thought that it was what I was supposed to do as a Christian woman. Keep things together. Make him happy and content. Do whatever it took. Die to self. Isn't that the message?
But God MADE me. He likes me. Wants me to shine where I am...even if it's just with me. :) He doesn't want me to be numb. He wants me to feel. To experience. To grow. And He is drawing me out of the numbness into life. And it HURTS. And it's GOOD. But, I cry again. Quite a bit actually. For all of the missed out crying. For the fact that I wasn't able to do it. For the fact that I don't want to be able to do it. For my children. For the fact that I became invisible......and I don't think anyone missed me. They hear me talk about it, but I don't think that there was any sense that I was suffering nor not myself.
So....I have to travel alone in some ways. I don't have family...I don't count the kids in this because they do not need to deal with their mama's emotional baggage....to speak about it with. The friends that were there during that time that I long to really connect with...they seem to need space. Like I'm pretty smothering. I want to be sensitive to that. They are not responsible to have to meet those needs...to help heal the hurts....to hug or comfort. They don't have to.
I guess I struggle because I just can't connect so well. I DO say the stupid things. I do ask the stupid questions of people. It's like I'm reading in a completely different book...not just a different page. I think it's the trauma I suffered. I can't tell anyone....it seems too dramatic sounding, and I don't need drama....but, I am ultra sensitized right now. So, I guess I want to deal with the deeper things and maybe it just makes people uncomfortable. So, then, I try to be less so and I come off as aloof or uncaring. Mostly..it just makes me want to remain silent. Or talk about.....the weather, kids, work, activities etc. And people are good with that. And don't even know that it is totally NOT who I am. Chatting wears me out. I love communication. I am relational. And currently disconnected from those friends that I love most deeply. That I trust. Because I have found that I'm too odd for them to connect to in my coming out of numbness stage. And when I say the stupid things and they react, I cry....whether I make it away from them in time to do it alone or not, the fact remains that it hurts me. Though they are doing nothing wrong.
I was in a battle. Perhaps even a war. Fighting for my life. I got out. I am damaged. Troubled. And I feel in hyper sensitive ways. And I'm allowed. Even if I just have to do it right here. In my room. On my computer. I am allowed to be a mess. To not have it together. And I am allowed to feel like I should be lovable anyway. Though I don't have it together. That I should be allowed to be understood, held, loved on....and that if that doesn't happen, I don't have to make it my fault. I made everything my husband did my fault. I need not to carry this too.
blessings.
Because I realize that the reason that I suffer in the now is coming out of living in the numb place is painful. It's like having my teeth worked on with an anesthetic and how it doesn't hurt while they do the work.....but after, as the anesthesia wears off, the pain doesn't grow, it is just noticed. The pain was there, but I was numbed to it. I remember when I got to the point that I couldn't cry and I wondered why. That was at some point after I spent so much time crying alone. After awhile, a giving in takes place. Or maybe a giving up. A resigning of self. Of will. A deciding to just make it through. Whether it was conscious or not, I'm not sure. But I do know that it occurred without me sitting down and thinking, "this is what I need to do...".
I think that the hardest thing for me right now is that I don't have words to use to describe what happened to me in my marriage. If I call it abusive, that seems unfair. It seems like, "but it was only....". The bruises that I have never purpled. Never got a bump. Because he would never hit me. The words he used were never, you worthless slut or such. No, there was an insidious, scarily sweet tone. There was being helpless or so depressed about what he was...how he was...on his part. In my whole marriage there was never a time that it was just at ease. Where I could say what I needed or wanted and have it met with maturity and kindness. Every single thing, conversation, need, hope....it all revolved around him. He was not concerned about me, he was concerned about how he looked, how it would affect him, how it would cost him, how people would perceive him. I'm learning that he didn't love me. And that's hard. Oh, he had feelings for me. He needed. He used. He depended. He leaned. He put down or competed so that he could be above me. But honestly, I was never enough that he could put himself aside. He couldn't see me because of himself. His need to do for himself. But how that felt to me...was always not being enough. Not being able to get what I needed because I didn't feel important enough, pretty enough, capable enough, neat enough, smart enough. but...i will never be sure if it was because i wasn't enough or if it is because he just doesn't see anyone but himself. maybe there is someone out there that he will love for real? As much as himself. That's not me. He harmed me by making my dreams....stupid. By living for himself and expecting me to live for him too. By holding our children back with criticism. By harshness. Grumpiness. Unkindness. And in the midst of it, he would be so funny when other people were around. Be so helpful to them. But no matter what I asked...he had something else to do. Oh, except those rose boxes he built twice. I wasn't allowed to have things that were important to me. Nor people. Jealousy was his mode of "love". He didn't want my time and he didn't want to have to just be with me....unless he perceived that someone else would. And eventually, I was numb. Able to smile and keep going. I thought that it was what I was supposed to do as a Christian woman. Keep things together. Make him happy and content. Do whatever it took. Die to self. Isn't that the message?
But God MADE me. He likes me. Wants me to shine where I am...even if it's just with me. :) He doesn't want me to be numb. He wants me to feel. To experience. To grow. And He is drawing me out of the numbness into life. And it HURTS. And it's GOOD. But, I cry again. Quite a bit actually. For all of the missed out crying. For the fact that I wasn't able to do it. For the fact that I don't want to be able to do it. For my children. For the fact that I became invisible......and I don't think anyone missed me. They hear me talk about it, but I don't think that there was any sense that I was suffering nor not myself.
So....I have to travel alone in some ways. I don't have family...I don't count the kids in this because they do not need to deal with their mama's emotional baggage....to speak about it with. The friends that were there during that time that I long to really connect with...they seem to need space. Like I'm pretty smothering. I want to be sensitive to that. They are not responsible to have to meet those needs...to help heal the hurts....to hug or comfort. They don't have to.
I guess I struggle because I just can't connect so well. I DO say the stupid things. I do ask the stupid questions of people. It's like I'm reading in a completely different book...not just a different page. I think it's the trauma I suffered. I can't tell anyone....it seems too dramatic sounding, and I don't need drama....but, I am ultra sensitized right now. So, I guess I want to deal with the deeper things and maybe it just makes people uncomfortable. So, then, I try to be less so and I come off as aloof or uncaring. Mostly..it just makes me want to remain silent. Or talk about.....the weather, kids, work, activities etc. And people are good with that. And don't even know that it is totally NOT who I am. Chatting wears me out. I love communication. I am relational. And currently disconnected from those friends that I love most deeply. That I trust. Because I have found that I'm too odd for them to connect to in my coming out of numbness stage. And when I say the stupid things and they react, I cry....whether I make it away from them in time to do it alone or not, the fact remains that it hurts me. Though they are doing nothing wrong.
I was in a battle. Perhaps even a war. Fighting for my life. I got out. I am damaged. Troubled. And I feel in hyper sensitive ways. And I'm allowed. Even if I just have to do it right here. In my room. On my computer. I am allowed to be a mess. To not have it together. And I am allowed to feel like I should be lovable anyway. Though I don't have it together. That I should be allowed to be understood, held, loved on....and that if that doesn't happen, I don't have to make it my fault. I made everything my husband did my fault. I need not to carry this too.
blessings.
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