Monday, March 11, 2013

A Post A Long Time Coming

This post has been knocking around in my head for months.  Truly months.  Closer to a year, actually.  But a few weeks ago I got on and saw a message from Anonymous and I started to think more and more that I needed to say a few things.  Let me just get this in before we move ahead: As I give advice or express my thoughts, please please please do not interpret that to mean that I believe myself to be irreproachable, all-knowing, or exemplary in any way.  I'm just trying to share my feelings, ideas, experiences, etc. OK.  Please continue. ; )

I'll start with copying and pasting Anonymous' comment on the last post:

Anonymous said...Sometimes I wonder if coming back is the right option? A lifetime of 'hurt and fear' for one, 'guilt and shame' for the other. Would it have been better if it ended and both of you moved on? I know love, I've been in love, but sometimes I wonder what happens to that love. When, and why, do we stop living for each other? Is obligation more important than happiness? Are you happy?
I'm having very similar struggles. I'm just curious if the though has entered your mind or his.

I have to admit when I read this I was really saddened.  I wanted to email you personally, though that's impossible since I don't know you. Then I wanted to find you and hug you. Instead, I prayed for you.  So wherever you are, please consider yourself hugged.

I have numerous answers to your questions, and I'll answer you more fully toward the end (I think--I never know how a post will turn out, as it is mostly spewing out of my head onto the screen as fast as I can type it.) but I hope, if you are out there reading this, or others who are in Anonymous' position, I hope you will read all that I have to say and not just skip to the end. ; )
Here we go:

This blog is about my marriage and my situation.  Staying was right for me.  Coming home was right for Beloved.  Do I think that every woman or every man should wait around for their errant spouse? Not necessarily.  Should every man and every woman try to make their marriage work? I would say that except for cases of abuse or other such circumstances I think yes, they should try.  Now when I say 'try' I don't mean it in the same way one might say, "I'll try to lose weight", or "I'll try to stop daydreaming about Hugh Jackman".  That half-hearted crap doesn't cut it.  Hmmm. Hugh Jackman............Oh! See what I mean?!

I know that I can only control one person: ME.  And I needed to know that I put my Everything into my marriage with Beloved.  A friend who was newly divorced at the time I was going through The Terrible Awful (to steal a phrase from The Help) told me of a film she wished someone had shown her before she divorced her husband.  She said she saw it after all was said and done and felt like she could have, should have done so much more to fight for her marriage.  Mind you, my friend was the one who left her husband.

I got the movie.  It was Fireproof, by the same people who did Flywheel (also a great one, though you must keep in mind that nearly all or all of the people in these films are volunteers).Yes I am aware they have other films, but these are the two I'm mentioning. If you have Netflix streaming I highly recommend you go watch it. Now.

So I watched it.  A few days later I felt I should go get the companion workbook: The Love Dare. It can be found nearly everywhere, but I found my copy at Target.  I bought it, brought it home, thumbed through it, and gave it away.  I was not about to do the challenges in it.  But I kept feeling nudged to go back and get another copy.   Nearly 2 weeks later I finally did.  And I tried reading it.  And I kept feeling like it was too hard a thing to be asked of me.  Thumbing through it I could see where loving and serving my spouse with a Christlike love would get me: even deeper in love with him.  I didn't think I could take it, honestly.  But I knew I had to follow through with what I felt so strongly I had been led to.  So I began.  I promised myself I would only move on to the next day after I felt I had truly accomplished the day I was working on.  Some challenges for the day took me several days to accomplish; some only took one.

Beloved has told me many times that it was that unconditional love he felt from me that gave him the strength to put her behind him and the hope that we could make things right again.  In the end I came to see that loving someone unconditionally, with Christlike love and intent affected me as much as it did him.

I think sometimes you have to LEAD your heart back to where it belongs.

I feel like, Anonymous and others, I have failed you if you feel that our lives are filled with "hurt and fear" or "guilt and shame".  They aren't.  Are there moments? Yup.  More when he first came back and less as time has gone on.  If you notice, most of my freakouts took place the first 3-4 months after he came home.  After that, time and our combined effort allowed those feelings to fade.

It's kind of like...a football injury.  Let's say your team is holding a scrimmage during practice.  Your best friend busts through the line and because of carelessness or because he's just a giant who doesn't know his own strength, he takes you down and your leg gets broken.  He's sorry. You're hurt.  But you forgive him.  He sees you in the cast and feels bad.  But you reassure him that it's over and forgiven.  Your leg heals.  You and your buddy remain close and one day after months have gone by and as the weather changes you feel a pain in your leg that wasn't there before the break.  It's not bad. It's just there. It reminds you that at one point in time your leg was broken.  You rub your leg and move on without mentioning it because the momentary twinge you feel now in your leg cannot be compared to all that there is to cherish in your friendship and future with your best friend.  Maybe that's a bit cheezy, but I feel like it's actually a pretty good analogy.  Yeah, my leg got broken. But it's healed now.  And yeah I get a bit of pain in it when it's going to rain.  But it isn't going to rain forever.  And yeah my friend remembers every now and again how awful he felt seeing me with my leg broken and knowing he caused it, but he has me there to remind him that I forgive him.

There is a huge something that I feel I must address.  It is this: your comment sounds hopeless.  I understand that.  Beloved felt hopeless, too.  He could not conceive of even the minutest possibility of being happy again.  He knew what he was doing was wrong, he knew he was lying to himself saying he was happy with this other life he had built for himself.   But he also couldn't think clearly enough to work this all out for himself.  He compares it to a thick fog.  He says he felt like there was just this thick fog surrounding his mind.  He couldn't see past it, especially when he was keeping steady contact with her.  Toward the end (which I didn't know until later) he was giving her excuses why he couldn't talk to her, etc. just so he could begin to think.

For my part, I have always found writing to be helpful.  The writing things down helps me to verbalize my thoughts and feelings instead of them just whizzing and knocking around in my head.  Sometimes it is the writing down and rereading that helps me to see things clearly for the first time.  It is something I suggested many times to Beloved.  He never did it because he felt that the feelings of hopelessness and confusion and anger, etc. were not things he'd want to see written down.  I've been through hopelessness and confusion and anger and guilt and many other ugly feelings in my lifetime.  Writing has helped me to see the forest for the trees.

To answer another of your questions, Anonymous: When and why do we stop living for each other?  The answer, I feel is simple:

When you start living for yourself.

Please, no hate mail. Am I saying be a doormat? No.  Please see above for cases of abuse, etc.  

What do I mean about living for yourself?  When I was young I heard someone talking about relationships and they said if you don't feel like your spouse is appreciating you, giving you what you deserve, etc. that before you go telling them all that they have done wrong,  you need to take a good look at yourself.  It goes back to I can only change one person. Me.  Chances are, if you're feeling unloved. So is your spouse.  Are you feeling unappreciated? So is she.  Frustrated? Hurt? He is, too.  Living for yourself is when you start to feel that your feelings are the only real feelings, the only valid feelings, the only ones that matter.

Dear reader: Is your spouse imperfect? Yes.  But so are you.  That's what is so great about this mortal life.  We make mistakes, we break our hearts and even His.  But we can repent and be forgiven. That is what the Atoning Sacrifice of Jesus Christ made possible. Just for you! Just for me!   And along with our own forgiveness it means something else: we can forgive those who have hurt us, too.


You can come to me and ask me about my experience and my beliefs, but I cannot tell you what YOU should do in your relationship.  I believe there is only one person that you should be asking and it's not me.  It, quite frankly, isn't even yourself you should be asking; it's the Lord.  Now, if you aren't religious, then, I am really sorry, but I think you have to do what you think is best.  But for me, God is who I turned to.  And He did not steer me wrong.  

Anonymous--You asked if I'm happy. Yes. Wholeheartedly yes.  Is Beloved? Yes.  We both see our marriage and our relationship for what it is: a living thing which needs to be cared for, fed, loved, protected.  I can honestly say I believe we are more in love now than at any other time before this all began.

Would I recommend an affair as a catalyst for such a change in a marriage? HECK NO! But I feel that Beloved and I are living, breathing, loving, laughing proof that God can make something beautiful from the ashes of our trials  if we let Him and are willing to work alongside Him to make it so.


Thursday, August 30, 2012

Where have you been all my life?

Or, rather, these past few years?  Has it been that long since I last wrote?  Yeah.  It has.
That's pretty sad.
Nearly two years since my last update. Yikes.

So, where to begin.  A lot happens over the course of a year, doesn't it?  Let alone two!

It has been a long road, this re-building of a marriage.  Trust is something that I am still working on.  Beloved helps, though.  He makes it possible to breathe easy--easier, at least.  He understands that I have a lot of fears and hurt because of what he did.  He doesn't snap at me when I question him.  Or when I get panicky.

For example, some months after he came home (so, like, the end of 2009)  Beloved got a call from a friend who got tickets to a local college football game and invited him along.  Now, Beloved is all about Football.  Especially college football.  The friend was going to meet up with former neighbors  to tailgate before the game.  I should probably explain here that when I say 'local' I mean within our state.  It was still a few hours away to the game.

I started to have a panic attack.  I didn't want him going.  How was I to trust he was really going with his friend?  Beloved said he would just call 'Joe' back and let him know he couldn't make it.  I didn't want him to do that.  I didn't want him to have to miss out on normal things just because I was freaking out.  Looking back, I think it was totally legitimate for me to have him stay home if I was feeling that way, but that isn't what I did.

Instead, I told him that he could go, but that I'd have to drop him off at his friend's house, talk to 'Joe' to make sure I felt comfortable that he was really going where he said he was, and that 'Joe' would either bring him home, or I would pick him up from 'Joe's' (wow...where the heck does that apostrophe go?!) house.
This sounds like I was treating him like a little kid.  And maybe I was.  But the point is, that he was totally okay with that because it was what I needed to feel comfortable.

I have access to all his emails, and his phone is on my account and I see everything if I want to.  A few months ago Beloved was asked to travel internationally for business and he waited for weeks for me to pray about it and decide if I was ok with it, even explaining to his boss that he needed to know that his wife would be okay first.  I was, in the end.  But I know he would have foregone the trip if I had asked him to.

Beloved has a lot of hurt that he has to work through.  I think there is a mourning that he must go through.  I know he feels the loss of who he was before this all started.  But I try to remind him that he is more than the sum of his mistakes.  We all are.  Thank goodness for that, am I right?

There are days when all Beloved can think is that he left.  That I hurt because of him.  He feels that he is worthless, that he's a monster for nearly throwing his family away.

I try to remind him--I say try, here, because I fear it doesn't sink in as much as I'd like--I try to remind him that he isn't just the man who left; He's the one who came home.  He didn't throw away his family.  He returned.  He made the right choice and continues to make the right choice.

We did go to marriage therapy/counseling for a little over a year.  That truly helped.  Especially in the beginning.  Seriously, people, I am so thankful for that counselor!

So, do I get sad?  Heck, yeah, I do.  Do I get angry?  You better believe it.  But the thing is, as time goes on,  I find those times are fewer and farther in between.

My therapist gave me a book to read.  It was popular a while ago.  You probably heard of it.  I'm typing this all out as I'm trying to think of the name of the book. Ha ha. Oh! The Shack! That's what it's called.  I liked it.  One part in particular resonated with me and this situation (and here I will be just summarizing, since I don't actually have the book).

It was when some characters are discussing forgiveness.  One explains to the other that forgiveness doesn't have to be a one-time thing, i.e. 'I forgive you for the affair', said and done once and it is over.  Forgiving can be done every day. Some days you have to forgive that offense fifty times.  Then maybe only 20.  Then 10.  Then it comes to be days before hurt or anger bubbles up in your heart and you have to forgive again.

That was a lightbulb moment for me.  I was like, 'What?! I can do it over and over again?' Why this was such news to me, I don't know.  It sounds silly, doesn't it?  But it is true.  It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

In no way am I saying I am perfect in this.  There are days I feel a little like singing Eliza Doolittle's refrain, "Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!"   But I'm doing ok.  I'm trying.  I get angry or hurt, and I forgive all over again.  And I feel better.  It's what works for know, when I'm not humming along with Eliza.

Sunday, September 19, 2010


So, I know it has been a long time. This summer was hard for me off and on. It was hard, to be honest, for both of us. Me-dealing with hurt and fear. Him-dealing with guilt and shame.

June 5th, 2009 was the day that I found out about his affair in the first place. That's the beginning of this blog. I was a little nervous about it as I felt June approach this year. But we were doing well so I tried to be positive. And I was. Until a few days later when I realized I went to the same places I went a year ago on that Friday. (Of course, since this is a year later, the day that was a Friday last year is a Saturday this year, you know what I mean...) I hadn't even meant to do it. You see, when Beloved told me about it that awful night we had gone to dinner (I had arranged for a sitter so we could go out and--I thought--reconnect, and maybe he'd tell me what had been bothering him. I had no idea that it was what it was) outside the mall and then, in the car, after dinner, he told me everything. And I said (very calmly, since I didn't cry at that time) I needed to use the bathroom, so we drove to Target, across the way, so I could use the bathroom. I remember walking into that bathroom as quickly as I could, but still retain some sense of calm. Once inside I couldn't hold it in anymore and started to cry. I called my bff 'Gretchen' and then my big sis Sam. I cried and cried. And it was close to closing time, so when some worker came in to check the bathroom she hugged me and held me for just a little while. I don't even remember what she looked like, but I am so thankful for a kind stranger that day.
Anyway, about this year (HELLO! Sorry about the sidetrack, there!). My daughters S and E wanted to have a girl's night out. I thought that was a great idea and so we went out. Guess where they wanted to go? To eat at the mall and then to Target. Weird, huh? And we were there almost to closing that night, too.
I thought about it later, once I realized it, and I thought it might have been a good thing. Maybe I needed to go see if there are any ghosts of the past there, you know? And I felt o.k.

But the next day I did not. That is to say, on Saturday morning I woke up and I felt sick. And my head hurt. And I felt weird because I felt discontented but didn't know why, because Beloved and I had been so very connected of late. All morning it bothered me. I kept wondering why I felt like this. And then I remembered something I had read a few months back. Something about our body's cellular memory. That sometimes we wake up feeling a certain way that doesn't make sense, but that it is because on the same day in our past we felt that way and our cells remember it and react to it. Weird, huh?

Then July came. And I went away for work (I started with a direct-selling business--NEVER thought I'd do that, but I fell in love with the product and couldn't resist) and I was a mess for the week leading up to it. Why? Because I was going to the exact same place he had gone to be with her on the 25th of July. The story is here, if you remember. See, in that post I say "L.A.", but in reality it was Newport Beach. And where did I find myself headed on the 15th of July? Newport Beach. Now, I realize that the 15th is 10 days away from the 25th. But for me it was terribly difficult and emotional. I was so filled with anger and hurt and, just, so many emotions, that I couldn't prepare for the trip. Beloved had to help me pack, had to talk me into going, remind me of why I was going in the first place, and that I would have my wonderful BFF and her family and my sis along with me, that it would be fun.

So I went. And it was fun. And it was good. And, though there were times when I felt like crying, it was great to have a reason to go out there and face those feelings, but have another purpose into which I could focus my energy.

And when I returned home he was a mess.

He couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about how I had felt in leaving and telling himself I would return to tell him I was sick of feeling like this, that I'd tell him he had to go.

He does this to himself a lot. And to be honest, there was one time, around Thanksgiving that I truly felt like God had better give me a reason to stay because I felt like I was finished with it all. But after that, when things are hard--and they do get hard. SO so hard. When things are hard I think about what a dear friend said to me: She said, "Gigi. What do you know for sure?" And I 'hem'ed and I 'haw'ed (I know that isn't spelled right, sorry!) and she reminded me of what I said when Beloved was gone. And that Heavenly Father told me to wait. And that Heavenly Father brought Beloved home. And that Heavenly Father knows waayy more than I do. And that I trust Him. So when things get hard, I remember that. And it helps me to keep things in perspective.

And my birthday came. And that day last year was miserable. Miserable: (adj) wretchedly unhappy. Don't get me wrong, I was with BFF in Utah and loved being near my neices and nephews whom I adore. But I had a foolish, ridiculously romantic notion that he would wake up and come back to me, call me or show up at BFF's home. I blush to write that. No, more than blush. Though I feel my cheeks heating up as I type. I am embarrassed and humiliated that I hoped for that. But it's the truth. I did. And I was miserable all day because I knew it wasn't going to happen, and couldn't keep myself from hoping that it would. I know. It's so stupid.

So this year I felt so sad all day. Like I was mourning--something. My romantic notion? My foolishness? I don't know. I tried not to let it show. I did things--don't ask me what, I can't remember now--to keep us all busy. Us all, being the kids and myself, since Beloved had to work that day, but had a 3 day weekend after it, so I didn't mind. And it allowed me the privacy that I wanted. Perhaps I was a little indulgent.

Then August came. And it was our anniversary. You remember, the infamous anniversary post and comments, don't you? Poor Red. Love ya, Red! No hard feelings, right?! Huh? And this day was hard for me. Because I remembered where things were then last year. And then the two trips he made out to be with Shannon right after that. And how he came to me a few days after our anniversary last year and said that he had thought about me all day on our anniversary but didn't call, because, 'what was there to say?'

And now here we are to September. And the 25th will be the Anniversary of Beloved's return. We have come a long way.

Beloved is struggling with his feelings of worthlessness. To go against all that he once stood for, and to do it so fully, well, it just doesn't leave him feeling great about himself. I mean, I think anyone can understand that.

And I have my ups and downs.

I have written a few posts but not actually published them. I think I'll get to that.

Anniversaries have just been on my mind for the past few months, and I am taking advantage of a quiet evening to write these things down.


Sunday, April 25, 2010

So, enough already....and then maybe not.

So, I have a confession to make.
I'm fat.

so fat. **This is not to say that people who may be bigger than me should feel worse or any of that stuff. Cuz I've been bigger than I am now. This isn't about you. This is about me. And how I feel about my body right now. I'm just sayin'...**

I have gained 30 pounds in the last 4 months.

That's a lot. I know.

At first when I started to gain I told myself that it was because Beloved and I were celebrating. We ate sweets while snuggling on the couch after the kids went to bed, and ate out often after he came home. But, see, I didn't gain more than 5 lbs from September to December.

I gained it all after that. So technically it is 35 lbs. Yikes.

I gained it quickly. So quickly. Mainly because, though I say it has been four months, I have maintained at this weight for a month. So, really it is 30 lbs in 3 months.

OK. So why am I talking about weight on a blog about infidelity? For a couple of reasons. But the main one is the only one I'll address right now:

I've been swallowing my emotions.

I found they go down easier with a bite of anything I can find in the kitchen and a swig of Dr. Pepper. Or water. I'm not picky. Although the Dr. Pepper sure does taste good...Mmmm....Dr. Pepper. (that was my little homage to Homer Simpson and doughnuts--which are about the only things I haven't eaten in the last few months.)

I thought I was ready to come back to blogging. But it has been a struggle. How much do I tell about my 'getting over it' process? Where is the fine line between too much said and just enough to get my head on straight again? And then there has been the whole 'time' issue. It seems like my days are going faster right now. And depression. There has been some of that, too. Though, to be honest with you, I just call it 'not feeling well'. And it doesn't last long.

Usually once we go and talk things out with Dr. F I feel better. But I have a hard time talking about things with Beloved at home. I feel like with Dr. F it is safer, somehow. I mean that if he becomes distraught over something that hurt me, she can talk him through it. If I start to feel like a pathetic little porcupine--all prickly and hard on the outside but just lonely and sad on the inside she talks me out of it, or helps him to get me out of it.

I feel like we are learning the skills we need, but it is remembering them when the time comes that we struggle with. And, let's face it, how many of us in our everyday conversations with our spouses say, "I need to talk to you about something. Is now a good time? Can you mirror me?" Which, by the way, really does help a lot. But I seem to miss my own warning signs that tell me I am starting to struggle with some memory or emotion. I tend not to catch it until I am close to boiling over. I need to pay better attention.

This week I started watching what I eat. Again. And I decided I wouldn't eat when I was upset. Or lonely. Or bored. Or sad. Or angry. Or any of that other shtuff. But here is the problem:
I was a witch. And moody. Becuase I took away the thing that I was self-medicating with, and I didn't have any other option. I was working out, but that didn't seem to help. I hoped it would. I thought, "I'm trading emotionally eating for working out." It seemed like an even trade in my mind. Not so much.

And Beloved and I had a rough week. All of those emotions stated above and all the others I wrestle with just rose to the surface this week. Added to this was the concern I felt over Beloved starting a new job on Monday. I had to act like I was fine because if he knows I am upset it just messes with his self-esteem and he didn't need that his first week on a job.

But finally it had to be addressed and Beloved and I talked. And he made me realize something I hadn't before:
He said that when he was gone I was so strong. That I had faith in the end that Heavenly Father showed me, and I had the perspective to see his hurtful words for what they were: lies to justify his actions, or lies he told himself. (And that is something that bothers me: I liked who I was and felt good about myself and felt so strong when he was gone. I felt like when he came back home all that went away, you know?) I have always said that it wasn't me holding myself together. Because it wasn't. But what Beloved said next really struck me. He said maybe I was being held together because I was letting Heavenly Father into my life, letting him hold me together. But when Beloved came home, I just stopped.
I thought about it after he said that because it felt right when he said it. And I realize that I did just that. I kept asking Heavenly Father to just carry my burden just a little longer, that I'd pick it up when I could. And somehow, I just thought (foolishly, I know) that when he came home the hard part was over. And I just stopped depending on Heavenly Father for that. I remember thinking that He had handed it back to me because I could feel it's weight now on my heart. But I don't think He did hand it back. I think I took it back. I felt like His turn was over and now it was my turn. But I'm not that strong. I can't shoulder that weight alone. Who can? Isn't that why our Savior died for us? To take our pain upon himself? Our sins, but also the pain that we feel? Because of our own sins? Because of the sins of others? So that we can forgive? Truly forgive?

It sounds so silly of me to have forgotten that. To have stolen back my load when He would have gladly carried it further.

So that is where I am right now. Asking Him for His help again. And really, that's where I should be.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

No Hyperlinks. I'm feeling lazy.

Apparently no title, either!

Proving herself to be the Smartest Woman in the World, Housewife Savant has done it again.

She predicted to me that now that Beloved is back my life may become too busy for a time--too busy to blog. I hate to admit it, but that woman was right. And has great hair. ; )

So, I'll just tell you what happened with Shannon after Beloved broke it off.

The day after Beloved came home I got on facebook to post something prodigal son-y, figuring that those who knew what was going on would understand and those who didn't would go, 'Huh?' and not give it another thought.

While I was on I noticed that I had a message. Now, I knew it was from her before I clicked on that little Messages tab/doohickey (sp?). But I opened it and sure enough she had written me a message. Now, for those who are on facebook, you know that you only see a line or so from that message and then you have to click on the message to open it and read the whole text.

Well, it said (all that I could see): "Well, I guess you won. Have a great life. Oh and let me just say 3"--but that is where it cut off. And I knew I wasn't ready to open it up and read what she had to say. I figured it wasn't "3 super-sweet things Beloved said about you" or "3 of my favorite kinds of ice-cream, just FYI!" So I let it sit.

I will say that I knew it was not pleasant. I knew she sent it just to mess with me, so I ignored it. For a while. Ok, a week or two. Yeah. I'm not so smart, sometimes.

I won't go into what it said, but it messed me up for a few days.

Added to that Beloved opened his email and had an email from her. He told me and said I could just delete it. I read it. Of course. Then we blocked all of her email addresses.

It had to do with cancelling flights and sending stuff that he had left behind back to him and him mailing back the autographed Steve Young jersey she had bought for him. She had told him to just burn it, but he felt like it was expensive and he didn't want to keep it and didn't want to just give it away so I mailed it to her. I gotta tell you, I felt bad sending that jersey away. He has always wanted one, and we could never afford one. Anyway....

She told him that she had gone back to her husband and they are 'putting God first in [their] lives' with the addendum, "so long as he doesn't drink anymore", which I felt was her little way of reminding him of how her husband 'was so bad to her' (which may not in fact be true). Just a feeling I had. And then she asked how things are going with me and him and that she'd really love to hear from him. That she was sorry for being angry and that she was just hurt, and what is going on with him? How is he doing? Blah blah blah. I felt like she was trying to reopen a conversation between them.

Then we got a box from her. Beloved didn't want to deal with it, so I went out to the garage and handled it all. I won't go into everything that was in there. (All of it went to Goodwill or the trash, by the way, except his yearbook and some football cards.) There was a long letter in there saying that she will always love him and that they are soul mates and that she wants him to call her in a year or two to tell her how things are going (Yeah, right.) and that she was really angry at first, but then she called her husband right after hanging up with Beloved because God told her to and they went on their first date and she's so happy with him and then she reminds Beloved that he always knows how to reach her if he wants to, blah blah blah. I felt like it was fake for some reason.

It was. Because a few weeks ago someone I know who also knows Shannon said that she had just recently gone back to her husband. Which supports my hunch that she was writing those things hoping Beloved would say, "Wait...I don't like the idea of you with him..." and come right back.

So there is a little bit of catch-up. I thought it'd be fun to think of some endings for that sentence: "Oh and let me just say 3..."

Got an idea? Post it in the comments.


And, my I'mNotGivingUpOnYou yahoo friend: I am so sorry I haven't ever gotten back to you. I think about you all the time. Pretty much every day. I think, "R did this. It may not be the same situation, but R did this. I can do it, too." So, thank you, my friend. I don't know you, but I really am thankful you wrote me. I'd like to say I'll email you back soon, but I don't know when that will be. But I'll post here to let you Ok. That was a long side message.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A New Perspective, or, A Visit With The Emissions-Tester-Guy

Is it just me, or does that second title have a certain ring to it? ; )

So, it was the last day of the year in 2009.

And I had to get my emissions test done for my van so I could get my registration renewed. Oh, and it was the last day of the grace-period month as well. (I probably didn't have to mention that, but I guess that just helps you to get to know me better...)

I got to the Emissions Testing Center just a few minutes after they opened so I didn't have much of a wait. I made a dork of myself while trying to prepare my car for the test (read: cleaning up tissues, putting away my ipod, etc.) but we won't go into further explanation of that. I went into the waiting room and...waited. It didn't take long and in about 10 minutes I was outside giving my check to the Emissions-Tester-Guy.

Don't you love it when people are cheery and friendly? I do. This guy greeted me with this wide grin and asked me how I was doing, and when I inquired into his day he smiled and said, "I'm living the dream, ma'am, I'm living the dream!" in the most good-natured way. Now, it was f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g outside, and if it were me I would have been griping about commenting on the cold. We chatted for a bit as he finished printing up my paperwork.

And he said, "Aren't you glad to see 2009 end?" And then he said something about starting a new year. OK. I know what you are thinking: Duh, Gigi. It was New Year's Eve, of course the conversation would go something like that. And you are right. But for some reason when Emissions-Tester-Guy said that it went straight to my heart and I thought, "Yeah. OK. I can say this year is over and behind me. I can choose to start anew and maybe even think anew."

I think this is a perspective I wouldn't have found on my own. Is that ridiculous? Probably. Perhaps anyone else would have already thought of it.

But I didn't, and so I am grateful for some friendly banter with a perfect stranger on December 31st.

Here is to a New Year.

And here is wishing Joy and Blessings for you and your families in 2010.

(hee hee. I was typing fast and I typed 2019. That would have been funny: "Hey, hope you have joy and blessings in 2019. and for 2010 i'm sending you patience. you know, 'cause you'll need it if you have to wait until 2019 for joy and blessings!")

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

So, do I owe you $100 now?

Oh, I have missed you.

This distance between me and this blog/you all has been crushing.


Because it seems that if I don't allow my thoughts and feelings to vent, well, they just end up crushing me on the inside. There is nowhere for them to go.


Where have I been these many weeks?

Losing my mind.

Now, don't get me wrong: I have days when I feel okay. It isn't that I don't think too much or hurt too much on those days, it is just that I am better able to keep out the crazy or keep myself

But there are many days wherein I don't think I can go on a moment longer. Where I can't STOP thinking and hurting. Those days are bad. So bad.

It is frustrating, too. Because I know how calm and even and peaceful I was able to feel when he was gone. Why is it so hard to be that way now? I do know that part of it is I have not been clinging to Father in Heaven as closely as I had when Beloved was away. When he was being unfaithful. When he was cheating. Gosh. I realize that I talk about it often as 'when he was gone'. Is it because I don't want to call it what it was? Or another reason? I am not sure. But I am realizing that I cannot be peaceful and calm if I'm not keeping myself spiritually centered. So I need to fix that.

We are in counseling. Marriage counseling. And I really like our thereapist. So does he. This week we talked about the fact that I hurt. Gosh that sounds like such a simple thing to say: "I hurt." But I don't know how else to say what it is that I feel.

This hurt is so...pervasive. Is that the word I want? I think I understand how people get hooked on drugs (prescription or otherwise) just to dull all the noise in their heads and emotion they cannot deal with. I think sometimes it would be nice just to go to sleep and not...feel.

I told Beloved: Forgiving is easy. I've done that. I have no need to make him hurt or 'pay' for what he has done. That is between him and God.

Forgiving is easy. It's the not hurting part that I am having trouble with.

And I wonder if it will ever go away? Do you think it does? Fully?

Beloved's grandfather is very ill. And grandma isn't doing so well, either. And one of Beloved's aunts sent out an email with a dialogue between Grandma and Grandpa that was so...tender...and I thought (after crying and crying at the sweet and loving emotions expressed by word or carried along in the words) "Will we get there? Will there be a day in the future where I won't hurt about this and think about it? When I don't ache?"

I think there will. I think it will come. But I really hope it comes soon. Because I feel like I am not the best Gigi I could be while I feel all of these...icky emotions, for lack of better words. (Hey, it's almost midnight and I am out of the habit of writing. Cut me some slack.)

I have learned (after my last REALLY BAD episode of 'crazy') that I need you. This is where I think through my emotions and I find in writing them, I have to form them in a coherent manner. And so they stop bumping around in my head like balloons. So now you know.

And thanks for the therapy.