better as friends?

i’ve been trying to finish a book. i’m not making very good progress and i’m paying $.25 a day for it from the library. this is why i haven’t written lately. i’m just trying to read every minute i can.

anyway, husband came over saturday to bring groceries. i hate that he does it, but it is nice because i don’t have a way right now to buy food for the house. then, he stayed. our two little ones would not let him out of their eye sight. it was pretty sweet and it felt nice, but then he stayed for dinner and then after bed time. then we talked. we have such good conversations about everything when we are not together. i’m trying to figure him out, why he can’t be vulnerable when we are together, why he waits until we are apart. of course he decides i must have had post-partem depression after my third baby that never really went away because i admitted (again) that i know i suffered from depression while pregnant with our last and also after her birth. he decides then that this news “explains a lot” of my behavior during our marriage. of course it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was completely void of feelings, emotional connection, understanding, empathy, consideration or that he was an asshole to my son and mean to me and my daughter….and on and on.

sometimes i wonder if i haven’t been effected in some sort of PTSD from so much emotional stress. i honestly think there are different ways people are effected by emotional stress, abuse and the control a person tries to have in a relationship. whenever he’d be back, i’d always have in the back of my mind, a running calendar of when three months was coming up. or wondering when he was going to decide it was time to go. a few days after our anniversary, he was trying to start a fight and leave. if i hadn’t been shell-shocked by what the hell was going on, i think he would’ve left. instead, i was like, what the hell is going on? we just celebrated our anniversary. where is this coming from?! so he stayed. had i not said any of those things, i think he would’ve been gone. had i not said anything, it would have been three months and a few days since he’d moved home. this time he did stay a little longer than three months because of me pushing him to explain himself, but he left just two months later. i find it equally hard; knowing he wanted to go, but didn’t, so when will it happen again? a month after that, we got child support set because he did leave so frequently, i got it set and in an active order so that if/when he left, i could at least get child support. that day he told me he’d be out by October 1. he moved out september 30, with no notice, except me texting him after i called and got no answer when i realized it was nearly 9 pm and he hadn’t made it home yet. he has not been back since, except to get stuff from the house. while he was here, i had to keep things secret, like that my mom opened my son a student checking account to have a place to put his money. i didn’t want a fight about it, even though it didn’t have to be a fight, it would’ve become one. i ended up feeling like we had to keep things a secret just to keep the peace.

so when he came over and we talked the other day, i talked about how the leaving made me feel so unsafe, so insecure, so unsure about us. a little bit later, he up and leaves. literally. i was saying something, he shifted in his seat, i stopped talking to see what he was doing and he got up and left. why was i surprised? he also mentioned that he blew “his” saturday with no kids by being with us. never mind that the kids were so happy to have him stop by. is that ever a waste? i don’t think so. so today he asks if he can bring the little two to get winter coats and stuff and then asks if i want to join them. i went because i wanted to make sure they got warm enough stuff and while we were eating lunch, our three year old says, very excitedly, “daddy you’re being nice to mommy again! mommy! daddy likes you again. he’s nice.” that really made him feel bad i think, that his 3 year old can see it. but then again, he probably thought i taught her that.

i’ve come to the conclusion that when we don’t “have” to be together, we do great. when we are separated and doing our own thing, we do so well. he stops drinking and starts working out more. he says it’s to deal with depression, but then when he’d move back home, he’d start drinking and stop exercising after a few weeks. when apart, we can have good conversations, laugh a little and joke around, but also he doesn’t put the pressure on me like he did when we were together. i think, dare i say, that we are simply better off apart. i think we make better friends than spouses. i don’t know if we just don’t mesh well or if we collectively lack the tools we need to figure out how to make our marriage work, but i think this is the reason we think we can get back together every time. it makes me so sad because we just can’t figure out how to be married to each other.

finding my own way (& i’m not a whore like you said i was)

  TRUST DREAMS. TRUST YOUR HEART, AND TRUST YOUR STORY. ~neil gaiman

a few weekends ago, i left with my oldest daughter. i left the little two with my husband (their dad) and took the older one because her dad couldn’t get her that weekend. i just could not stay at our house. the arrangement was supposed to be that i left on his weekends with our joint kids and when he was gone during the week for work, i’d be at our house with all of the kids. well, i left that weekend and stayed at a girl friend’s house and then we went to my mom’s for the other two nights. recently i learned that i was out ‘whoring’ that weekend and the one that followed when i was at a girl scout camp with my daughter and her troop. last i checked whoring did not include having pizza and wine with your best friend or going to the craft store with your mom and daughter to pick out paint to re-paint your big wooden doll house from your childhood. one night while i was away doing such devilish things, i had the strangest, most vivid dream.

an ex of mine (who is awesome) had called me and invited me to climb this tower. i was all for it. i hadn’t seen him in a while, but i also was wanting some kind of personal challenge. he pulls up in a car with a driver and i get in. we are like we  used to be, talking about everything and nothing and kissing and it’s amazing (like it was). so we get there and he tells me he’s going to go check us in for our climb. i’m looking around and there are all these people, mostly in pairs, some in groups. i look up and see this tower that is more like a cell phone tower than anything i had imagined. everyone was climbing in pairs. suddenly this older lady walks up to me and while looking the other way, she says cautiously, “honey. don’t climb this thing with him. i’m not sure why, but i don’t think you should.” so i’m thinking why would she tell me this? should i listen to her? i decide i should because the risk (death) is too great if something went wrong. see, there is one person harnessed in (him) and the other is hooked onto a strap but the other person has to hook your hook onto the next spot before you can re-hook yours. basically, you must trust your life with this person. in the meantime, he hasn’t come back, so i start towards the building and find the office. suddenly, my youngest two children are with me. the littlest is dancing around because she has to pee. the other one is freaking out as usual. i decide then i will not be able to do this climb no matter what and anyway, who would be my partner? low and behold, there is my husband. he is ready to climb this thing with me and i’m thinking, hell no! i am NOT climbing this tower with him! i say no because who would watch the kids? a staff person comes by and says, “ma’am, we offer child care in this room right here.” sure enough, there is a play room and t.v. in there. in my head i’m thinking, he thinks he can just pop up here and think i’m going to climb this stupid tower with HIM when i came here with someone ELSE!!! what is wrong with him?! but, i kind of agree to it and at the same time, i notice this overlook of sorts. i walk over, drawn to it. there is this bridge, but it’s very foggy and i can see the bridge twists and turns and wobbles. i ask what it is because there is no one on it. this staff person says, “we call it the stairway to heaven.” clearly it’s no stairway, but i can see a big building, like a mayan temple, on the other side. i want to do that bridge, screw the tower!! with everything i have, i want to walk that bridge. and i’m wondering, why is no one else on this bridge?! why would you put your LIFE in someone else’s hands when you could walk this bridge by yourself and get to go somewhere amazing as well as keep on living for sure?

then, i woke up.

this was clearly a dream i could not ignore. so so many messages in this dream. it was one of those dreams you don’t want to wake up from because it’s just that good and you want to see what happens next.

what i took from it is that i could keep on climbing this tower (until recently, my life with my husband) with my husband or someone else. the tower symbolized my life. as in the dream, my life was always in someone else’s hands and once i saw this bridge, knowing i could go alone and live, i wanted to do that more than anything. i would have climbed the tower alone, but it was designed to do it together. it made me angry that even in my dream, my husband could just show back up and expect to be there with me, completely disregarding that i had planned to do that activity with someone else. is this what it will look like when i am finally ready to date and try my hand at love again? he will try to control me even then? the bridge…my favorite part of my dream…twisted and turned, sometimes i couldn’t see a section of the bridge because of the fog, but i could see that it did show up later. it wasn’t super steady, as it wobbled and shook, but i was totally OKAY with this!! there was no chance at death. maybe i’d fall down, but i’d be alive and keep on going as i learned this bridge. and once i made it to the end of this bridge was the most amazing thing, my new life, represented by this pyramid. i couldn’t see it and wasn’t sure what was there, but i knew it’d be amazing.

i need more dreams. i need more symbols. i like knowing that i could choose to continue to climb this incredibly difficult tower with someone, risking death (of myself while with him) OR i can choose my own way, leading to LIFE, with the result in my hands. i believe god has a greater plan for me than i can ever imagine. god is going to be walking next to me sometimes, holding my hand as i stumble, helping me to get up when i fall. sometimes god will lead me and i will follow, trusting that the outcome will be good, even though i am not in control. this is truly the only way i think i will make it through this time of my life. i was divorced before, but i had one child. i was a lot younger. the marriage didn’t even last a year. i never even cried. this divorce, it’s going to take a lot more for me to come out on top. every day steps will be taken to be sure we will be okay.

i am not a whore. i am not a life sucking bitch. i am life giving. i am a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a god-mother and a friend. i am standing up to the man who controlled me and emotionally abused me for way too long. i’m making decisions that do not include him or that do not require his opinion. as far as i’m concerned, my dream showed me that i have god on my side and in the end, my beautiful kids and i are going to live a beautiful, beautiful life. and i cannot wait to show them what that will look and feel like.

on how important it is to open your eyes to the truth

just as soon as i turned back to hope for my marriage, i was blindsided by news that no one ever EVER wants to hear. but i tried. i tried and tried and tried with that man. while i was trying, he tried when he felt like it. he’d help me when he ‘got around to it.’ but never with the big stuff. i needed help processing, to be strong and make it with him, but i was dismissed. put aside. i did not matter. or, at least i didn’t matter enough for him to make me a priority.

three more months. that is all i gained and also all i lost in the time i had with him as my husband. this time, i’m not even sad. i’m angry. not raging lunatic angry, but angry just the same. angry that he put us through all the crap he has. that he strung me along, or that i let him string me along. the way he spoke to and treated my oldest two children. the way he ignored me. the way he withheld his heart and his feelings and overall, withheld himself from me, the one he chose to marry. the inattentiveness. the unappreciative comments and general attitude that i did nothing for our family as a stay at home mom. the insults. the lack of empathy for hard days with children while he was on the road. the bitter heart he carries around. the constant criticism. the nice fat paychecks, but unpaid bills. the lies. the deceit. the never-standing-up-for-me to anyone. my constant attempts to meet his expectations, yet always seemed to fall short. i’m angry that he has always been jealous of my friends and family. that i let friends go because i didn’t want the conflict or he convinced me somehow that he was right. the vulgarity of his language and thoughts. his put-downs of people. his excuses. always a damn excuse for why he wasn’t successful or able to succeed sooner. the double standards. the way he used shame and humiliation to move me into submission. the coming and going every few months. the lies…did i mention the lies? the mixed messages on any and all things. the blame. ooooh the blame! my own naiveness. the sadness he caused my children as he left us over and over. the hope he created by coming back, only to leave again. the dog shit he put in my bed because he was convinced i had been sleeping with someone else…only it was him, not me that was doing that. the spraying of the water hose in my face because i stood up to him for once and he didn’t like it. the use of fear to control…not just me, but all of us. that i felt it as personal humiliation, but he really was he one who it reflected on. the name-calling. the porn. the tension he created by just being here. the feeling of walking on egg shells constantly. the 32 oz mason jars, filled with ice and then half way filled up with rum, the other half with diet coke or 7-up. the person he became after drinking. the gambling. the flowers that he bought me that made me wonder why he was buying me flowers. the fucking cell phone! the doubt. foreboding joy. not letting the kids help each other. the way he changed over the years. being just as ‘gone’ while home as he was while away.

not all of our time was bad. i just have a really hard time thinking of anything good about him these days. seriously though, what good is a really good job if you don’t use your money wisely? no amount of money would ever be enough. and no amount of money is worth it if you end up sacrificing your family and relationship in order to succeed. one person is never to blame in a situation. i really feel in my heart i have done a decent amount of self-reflection, listening to him and his needs, responding how i felt capable to respond. the things he wanted from me caused me to become someone else and that pulled me away from who i really was. here i was, feeling so disconnected from myself and wondering what the hell had happened, when really i had just changed to fit his requests without even really knowing what i was doing. we were disconnected. he was gone for months and i finally recognized the person looking back at me in the mirror. he came back a couple weeks later and within a very short amount of time, i felt destroyed. i’m back to not recognizing myself.

with all those things i listed that make me so angry for putting up with, finding the good in him is so far beyond where i am right now. he did this to himself. no one made him stop believing in God. no one. no one made him say the things he said or do the things he did. no one made him distance himself from us. no one made him into the person he is but himself.

i’m glad i’m already past the sadness. i had months of that the last times he left. this time, i’m already in the next stage of grief and i’m okay with that. i’m sure the sadness will come now and then, but i’d rather not sacrifice myself for one more minute for it to be in vain. when all of this has become your reality, there is no looking back, only looking ahead and being glad to be able to breath and be yourself once more.