Bruised

Bruised.  That's how I feel.  Sometimes, things from the past, or people from the past, still have the power to "punch" me.  To cause me discomfort and pain.  To make me weep.  To knock me down.  What's sad is that my husband could choose the person that I'm talking about over me.  That he still doesn't understand how ill the person is.  Absolutely without stability.  Someone who has hurt me, among many other people in my life.  I get that there can be mercy.  What I don't get is why I am not given it. 
As I get ready to curl up on my pallet, I think about how long it has been since I have had a "place" to be.  To take a nap.  To be away from "eyes".  I miss that.  I know that the other stuff hurts me more because of it.  I don't hide out in my car quite as much.  Though, it is my refuge if I feel pushed.  It amazes me that I can be so hurt by someone who claims to love, made to feel so insignificant and small.  And yet......he doesn't see a problem with just keeping on as it was.  Argue over something stupid until I am worn out and absolutely broken.  Then he cries. Wants me to comfort him. Then he wants sex....because if you've forgiven then everything should be fine...Then the tension builds again.  I'm a wreck.  Can barely function.  And nothing is ever right for him.  But, somehow, he wants to keep it  Today I was reflecting on how often I begged and pleaded for us to strive for the great marriage.  Communication.  Direction.  Spiritual guidance.  It never happened.  It deteriorated more and more.  And today I realized that I am the one that looks harsh.  Maybe I am the one that IS harsh.  Because now, even if he does change his mind and decide to do it differently or something.  I just CAN'T.  i I gave 20 years of my A game.  I don't have anything left to give him.  I know that God fills.  It's just that being hurt continually, being put down, being categorized as not as good....well, it's not healthy.  Really, for real, physically, it's hard on the health.  And I really CAN'T do it anymore. 
So, I'm bruised.  Because today just reminded me of yet another way that he rejected me.  And of how he never chose me.  However, now that I'm not choosing him, that's wrong and sinful.  And what's the truth?  The truth is that I'm not sure that I care what he thinks about that.  And that is the saddest testimony of all.  Not anger.  Not hate.  Apathy.  I am to a point where I just don't care what he thinks.  Where I am closing myself off from valuing his opinion.  Because it is the only safe place.  Because his opinion has been so harmful to my very being. 
Yep.  I'm bruised.  It throbs.  Pulses.  Aches.  And I guess that this hard floor doesn't help either. ;)  But, it means that I am alive.  Able to feel.  Real.  Caring.  It means that though I am pulling away from giving value to his opinion, I am a person who cares.  That is what makes it all so difficult. 
grace to you.