All day long yesterday, something pulled on my memory. Trying to convince me to remember. To look at what had happened. And...finally....in the wee hours this morning, there it was. This breakdown that I had yesterday was not the first.
The very first time ever that this happened....and it actually happened two times in less than a year....it was when my daughter was less than a year old. The first time, we were camping on the back side of Rocky Mountain National Park in August...which felt like October or November when a storm rolled in. Our water turned to ice it was so cold. I was trying to cook in the flap of the tent while keeping the kids warm in the tent after he had allowed them to get soaked. They were really little and it was really cold. We were tent camping. There was no way to dry out anything. He refused to understand the danger....little tiny bodies, wet, cold....hypothermia. I had camped my whole life. I understood clearly that they needed to be warmed up. Dry. Cooking in the tent was too dangerous, but keeping the door open allowed the whipping wind inside. It was stressful. And he was....playing. He didn't get it at all. I was trying so hard to get them warm food. Out to the cooler...back....cook....monitor darlings...it was so much. And the next morning, I lost it. The weather had settled in, not moved on...our water was frozen...not a thin layer...a THICK layer of ice. He thought it was fine to stay. The children were even invited into an older couples RV. At the moment when I could not make him understand the danger, when he simply had his eyes on what he wanted, when there was no reasoning....I lost it. And it so surprised me. I carried his selfish behavior so often, but in this moment, I knew that there was something to lose that I couldn't lose out of stupidity....children. I also lost something else that day...my love of camping. At least with him. Because I lost trust. I didn't realize it at the time. Then, a few months later, in the winter, after the holidays, it was night and I had been trying to communicate and it kept being like it was in our marriage....the constant barrage of what words I was using wrong or how I was saying it wrong or how I was bad for feeling how I did. I wasn't trying to start an argument. I was trying to talk. And he badgered. He poked. He hurt. He made fun. He minimalized everything I tried to say. I remember the snapping feeling. Of just feeling like my life was useless. That I was a lousy wife. That I was of no value whatsoever. I wasn't suicidal in the way he feared...I was to the place of seeing maybe the world was better off without me. Not with intent to end my life intentionally...but without hope. I told him that he needed something different. That I could not keep on with this life.....I was sobbing and over the edge. And he told me that he'd call our friends. My best friend. And he didn't say that he had pushed or been horrible. He basically said that I was talking about not living. Dying. And I had to get on the phone and listen and agree not to do that and remember about my kids. I said the right things and got off of the phone. And since then, I have never had such an "episode". Not so intense. I began to withdraw. To not allow him to hurt me anymore. There was nobody to talk to, No way to say how crazy he made me feel. And that's what it was. The boiling over of feeling crazy from how he behaved. How he treated me. And it happened again yesterday because of very similar reasons. He has been so selfish. And needy all at once. Mean to me....but acting so sweet in front of others. And it broke me. But seeing it is good. Breaking has a place. It allows me to be honest. To face how hard this time has been. To allow myself deep and genuine compassion rather than constant "do this better." Because I do want to do this better. I want to be a decent, kind, loving mom. And I simply blew that.
I pretty much despise him. And love him? I don't turn from love and care easily. Though I've separated myself, I still cover, still make things easier, still help, still give him credibility with the kids. That could just be love for the kids. Protecting them from seeing his selfishness. Letting them see the good. I want to give them the best possible. I want to pay the cost...not them.
But yesterday, my body and emotions gave in all at once. Too much for too long. But you know what? I made it 14 years since that first time. And raised some pretty great kids. I survived. Now I want to thrive. I feel awful about yesterday. And there's nothing I can do about yelling and crying and telling them that they were being selfish. Yep, I said it. BUT...I can learn to live differently from here on. To speak up. To say days that I need. And....to let them go.
I realize that this has been a long time coming and that yesterday should have been directed at the jerk that put me in such stress during the holidays. But it won't kill my kids to see my pain and my letting go. They will forgive. I will try to forgive myself. I feel so sad about it. And mad at him. Though I know it's my responsibility how I behave.
Yesterday was a hard day. Today I think I'm sick. Or maybe just recovering. I don't know. But my body feels awful. I'll just try to be good to me. That is a bit tricky with teens. I'll try anyway.
blessings.
The very first time ever that this happened....and it actually happened two times in less than a year....it was when my daughter was less than a year old. The first time, we were camping on the back side of Rocky Mountain National Park in August...which felt like October or November when a storm rolled in. Our water turned to ice it was so cold. I was trying to cook in the flap of the tent while keeping the kids warm in the tent after he had allowed them to get soaked. They were really little and it was really cold. We were tent camping. There was no way to dry out anything. He refused to understand the danger....little tiny bodies, wet, cold....hypothermia. I had camped my whole life. I understood clearly that they needed to be warmed up. Dry. Cooking in the tent was too dangerous, but keeping the door open allowed the whipping wind inside. It was stressful. And he was....playing. He didn't get it at all. I was trying so hard to get them warm food. Out to the cooler...back....cook....monitor darlings...it was so much. And the next morning, I lost it. The weather had settled in, not moved on...our water was frozen...not a thin layer...a THICK layer of ice. He thought it was fine to stay. The children were even invited into an older couples RV. At the moment when I could not make him understand the danger, when he simply had his eyes on what he wanted, when there was no reasoning....I lost it. And it so surprised me. I carried his selfish behavior so often, but in this moment, I knew that there was something to lose that I couldn't lose out of stupidity....children. I also lost something else that day...my love of camping. At least with him. Because I lost trust. I didn't realize it at the time. Then, a few months later, in the winter, after the holidays, it was night and I had been trying to communicate and it kept being like it was in our marriage....the constant barrage of what words I was using wrong or how I was saying it wrong or how I was bad for feeling how I did. I wasn't trying to start an argument. I was trying to talk. And he badgered. He poked. He hurt. He made fun. He minimalized everything I tried to say. I remember the snapping feeling. Of just feeling like my life was useless. That I was a lousy wife. That I was of no value whatsoever. I wasn't suicidal in the way he feared...I was to the place of seeing maybe the world was better off without me. Not with intent to end my life intentionally...but without hope. I told him that he needed something different. That I could not keep on with this life.....I was sobbing and over the edge. And he told me that he'd call our friends. My best friend. And he didn't say that he had pushed or been horrible. He basically said that I was talking about not living. Dying. And I had to get on the phone and listen and agree not to do that and remember about my kids. I said the right things and got off of the phone. And since then, I have never had such an "episode". Not so intense. I began to withdraw. To not allow him to hurt me anymore. There was nobody to talk to, No way to say how crazy he made me feel. And that's what it was. The boiling over of feeling crazy from how he behaved. How he treated me. And it happened again yesterday because of very similar reasons. He has been so selfish. And needy all at once. Mean to me....but acting so sweet in front of others. And it broke me. But seeing it is good. Breaking has a place. It allows me to be honest. To face how hard this time has been. To allow myself deep and genuine compassion rather than constant "do this better." Because I do want to do this better. I want to be a decent, kind, loving mom. And I simply blew that.
I pretty much despise him. And love him? I don't turn from love and care easily. Though I've separated myself, I still cover, still make things easier, still help, still give him credibility with the kids. That could just be love for the kids. Protecting them from seeing his selfishness. Letting them see the good. I want to give them the best possible. I want to pay the cost...not them.
But yesterday, my body and emotions gave in all at once. Too much for too long. But you know what? I made it 14 years since that first time. And raised some pretty great kids. I survived. Now I want to thrive. I feel awful about yesterday. And there's nothing I can do about yelling and crying and telling them that they were being selfish. Yep, I said it. BUT...I can learn to live differently from here on. To speak up. To say days that I need. And....to let them go.
I realize that this has been a long time coming and that yesterday should have been directed at the jerk that put me in such stress during the holidays. But it won't kill my kids to see my pain and my letting go. They will forgive. I will try to forgive myself. I feel so sad about it. And mad at him. Though I know it's my responsibility how I behave.
Yesterday was a hard day. Today I think I'm sick. Or maybe just recovering. I don't know. But my body feels awful. I'll just try to be good to me. That is a bit tricky with teens. I'll try anyway.
blessings.
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