[Bishop's Fantasy?]
This is MY story and I'm sticking to it!Thoughts To Ponder
2007-08-24
I've been pretty consistent in my desire to make good choices and do what I know is right. What if I don't know what's right? The more I'm learning, the more I'm questioning. I'm comfortable with that. If I don't ask questions, how will I ever learn anything? So, the question for the day is "What If?"
What if I end up getting divorced, despite all of the efforts to avoid it? Obviously my main concern would be my kids. What would happen to them? I'm a product of divorced parents. My mom and dad divorced when I was three years old. My dad was an alcoholic. He drank away his paychecks and my mom took sole responsibility for the care of their three children. I'm the middle child, so I was doomed from the start. OK, I was being facetious, but really, there's fact to back up the notion that the middle child is often ignored. I was certainly emotionally neglected by my parents throughout most of my childhood. There were times when I was physically neglected as well.
My dad was the typical "deadbeat dad". Although he was willing to allow us to come stay with him a week or two in the summer every now and then, we'd more often than not opt to stay with one of my grandmother's (who both lived in the same town he did). He lived in a trailer most of his adult live. It was a disaster area. There were overflowing ashtrays, porno mags, empty beer cans and liquor bottles, wadded up dirty clothes, and various other odds and ends everywhere. To be fair, he learned his housekeeping skills from his mother. My grandmother lived in a big old house so packed with junk and trash that there were paths cut through the place to get to the kitchen, bathroom, living room, and her bedroom. When she was forced to move into something smaller that she could better afford, rather than clean the place out, they burned it down. My dad was very similar to her, with the confusing and embarassing addition of all the Playboy and Penthouse "reading" materials. He drank from the time he got off work (when he was working) until the time he passed out. I'm not sure how he functioned as an adult. I don't think I ever saw food in his refridgerator. He must've always eaten at the "beer joint". In fact, now that I think about it, I spent more time with him at the bar than I did in his home. My memories with him weren't all bad. He was decent to me when I was around. There just wasn't anything connecting us. I think he remembered my birthday twice in my entire life. To a kid, those things are important and speak volumes about how much you care. As an adult, I still don't understand much and I'm sad I can't ask him because he died 6 or 7 years ago.
My mom worked very hard to stay off welfare. We lived in Sioux City for a time in the upstairs of a house. The main floor was occupied by Robert and Marty, one divorced and the other never married. They had a couple of pinball machines in their basement. The house was located right next to a bar where my mom worked nights "waitressing". I'm not exactly sure what all she did, but I don't get that she was very proud of some of her behaviors because she doesn't talk much about that time. Maybe because she was drinking and taking drugs to the point where she can't remember a lot. Most of what I remember is having to walk a long way to school by myself because my brother would ditch me. I was in Kindergarten then. I drove past that house when I was in Sioux City last time. I followed the path I took to school - I walked over a mile each way. That tells me that my memories, though sporadic, were fairly accurate. I have the typical problems of a person with an unhappy childhood. There are large gaps in my memory. Maybe because the days were all the same. Maybe because most of what I'd remember is too painful. I know my mom wasn't around a lot when I felt like I needed her to be. I know she made a lot of personal sacrifices to provide for us with little or no help from anybody else. I also know she made a lot of bad lifestyle choices along the way.
I don't know if I would've been different if I'd been in her situation, but I know how it's affected me. I have a great deal of difficulty trusting anyone, but especially men. I have trouble establishing boundaries with people. I have no concept of object permanence - meaning I've had so little stability in my life that I don't believe it's possible to have things stay the same for very long. I don't believe people will stick with me through thick and thin. These have been extremely difficult things to work through in my life. Learning to trust, to love, and to accept love have all been arduous tasks for me. Right now, because of some of my own choices and the choices made by others, the tasks are just as daunting.
That's only a part of what my parents' divorce has done to me. It wasn't just one divorce, though. My mom married and divorced 3 times between the time I was 3 and 17. There were boyfriends in between, too. She didn't learn from her mistakes. She didn't make changes in herself to ensure she'd make better choices in her life. That's hard to say about someone I love, but it's the truth. Not everything in her life has been of her own choosing, but I think there are a lot of things she could've avoided.
Divorce is hard on kids. Divorce is also a reality in a lot of kids' lives. It's been a reality in mine and I learned to cope. Not everything I learned was good. I didn't have the resources at my disposal that I'd make certain were available for my kids, should my husband and I get divorced. I want my kids to be the best they can possibly be. I want to prepare them for life in the real world as an adult. I don't know what direction those lives are going to take, but I don't want to be responsible for hurting them and their chances to be the people they're meant to be. At the same time, I know that struggle is what makes people stronger. Even the Bible says that in your life, you will have trouble. I can't prevent or even minimize the amount of difficulties they'll face. I just don't want to make things harder on them. If we divorce, things will definitely be harder - especially if my husband chooses to try to use them as a means to hurt me. Or if I lose my mind completely and choose to do the same.
I have great concern for my kids, but I also have personal concerns. What would happen to me if I got divorced? I'm scared I wouldn't be able to make it on my own. I'm scared I'd lose sight of my priorities and allow my emotions to control my decisions. I'm scared of a lot of how much harder my life will be. My husband told me last night that he thinks it would be easier to just give up on this relationship. He thought it would be easier after he moved us here. I don't think he has a very firm grasp of reality. I know my life would change drastically and not all of it would be things I'd choose.
If I got divorced, I'd have to find a place to live. A safe place that I could afford. What could I afford? Not a whole lot, considering I don't have much beyond a high school education. I'd have to find a job. I know I'm employable, but it would take a special person willing to take a risk on me. I don't have a solid job history in terms of long-term employment because I've been staying home with my kids. That should speak volumes about my level of commitment and organizational skills, but not everyone understands what it takes to do what I do. I also want to finish school because I want a chance to do something personally meaningful with the skills and talents I've been given. How would I accomplish that if I had to struggle so hard for mere survival?
Practical matters aside, the rest of the thought of being single is both intriguing and terrifying. Dating when you have kids is vastly different than dating with only yourself to worry about. I certainly don't want to place my kids in the same positions I've been in. I don't want my daughter to face the prospect of getting molested or either one of them to become targets of abuse. Stating that sheds a lot of insight on what I believe about what people are capable of. It also speaks to what kind of confidence I have in my ability to make good choices regarding men. I'm pretty naive. Even with what I've been through, I still have a tendency to believe the best about people. I wouldn't want to look at every man with suspicion, but how does a woman balance those things? Unnerving to think about, but exciting at the same time.
What would it be like to find someone I'm actually compatible with? What would it be like to spend time with someone who appreciates my company? Who thinks I'm someone special and treats me that way? What would it be like to be with someone who listens, responds, shares with me, and trusts me to take care of what they tell me? Would it be as good as it was with the Bishop? Would it be better because we could be open about our relationship? I don't know. I still believe I'm capable of connecting with a person like that. I still want that kind of relationship. I don't think my husband is at all capable. I don't want to live with that forever, but I do want to do what's right.
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Conviction Crisis
2007-08-23
I hate people who tell me I need to quit smoking. I hate them because I know they're right. I love to smoke, but I don't love the smell of it on other people. I don't like the fact that it's inconvenient or the amount it costs. I don't smoke anywhere near my kids. I don't smoke near the entrances to buildings. I throw the butts away when I'm finished. I'm a fairly consciencious smoker. I don't even smoke that much right now. I mostly just like to sit in a corner of a dark place and smoke and listen to live jazz on occasion. It has gotten a little out of hand lately, especially with the amount of stress on the homefront.
So, I joined the YMCA today and already took a yoga class. I'll exercise and taper off the smoking to nothing, except maybe social situations. Ugh! Can't wait for the withdrawal!
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Getting It Together
2007-08-23
We went to counseling yesterday. I've suspected my husband is about ready to give up on it because he's not been liking what he's hearing. What he's hearing is that he has to start examining his own feelings, their sources, and trying to learn how to put them into perspective. If he understands himself better, he might be able to exercise better self-control in the way he behaves towards me. Those things require him to accept the fact that he has emotions and that those emotions are not all a product of my choices. If they are, they shouldn't be. I can't be the and-all be-all of his existence. That dumps a lot of responsibility on me that isn't mine to carry.
All of these concepts seem pretty straightforward to me. He doesn't get them. At all. I can't figure that one out. Everyone has emotions. If you don't deal with them, they're likely to control you. I think that's a lot of what happens for him. He gets upset, angry, frustrated, whatever and he reacts immediately. His actions are based on those emotions, independent of rational thought. To top it all off, that book on narcissism I've been reading might as well be a case study on him. I'm not sure what I was hoping from the book, but it doesn't paint a very satisfying picture of the future. Basically what it says is that narcissists are generally incapable of changing because they honestly don't see anything wrong with the way they treat people. I concede the point. How can your mind be open to learning anything if you already know it all?
Where do I fit into all of this? Well, apparently it's up to me to set the boundaries, stick to them, stand up for myself against overwhelming opposition, and try to find a way to remain emotionally healthy. The tendency is to get so worn down from the constant barrage of insults, passive-aggressive behavior, demands, and verbal assaults on my character that I'd just give in rather than fight for my right to be an equal person deserving of equal consideration. That sounded eerily familiar as well. That came up in counseling yesterday in reference to something I'd asked for last Christmas.
I asked for a Maytag drying center. It's this amazing stacked dryer that has a regular drum on the bottom and a second drying compartment on top for hanging clothes or laying sweaters flat. It'll dry special care items in 3 hours instead of 12-24. Not only that, but it saves having all of those items strewn over the house because they need to be hung with space around them in order to get dry. I had my whole proposal put together before I approached my husband because I knew I'd meet with opposition. I've learned from experience that I have to be certain of what I want and be prepared to argue the point because his reaction to any request is never favorable, regardless what the item in question is. The dryer was no different. I said upfront that it was a desire, not a necessity. We already had a functioning dryer. This was something the manufacturer was discontinuing (reason for asking then instead of waiting til our dryer died) and it would make my life a lot easier. I knew it was expensive, which is another reason I asked when I did - Christmas bonus time. I knew we'd have the money for it because we weren't taking a big trip and we weren't buying extravagant gifts for the family. He finally "relented" and "gave in to me" and looked into purchasing it. There was one store in Sioux City that carried the dryer and they were doing a huge close-out sale on it. It cost several hundred less than what we thought - about the same as a regular dryer, even with delivery. We learned at the same time that a friend's sister was in dire need of a working dryer. Her husband is a full-time student, they have 4 small children, and they'd been hauling laundry to her sister's to get it dried. They were thrilled to take our old one. When all of those factors come together, it doesn't seem like it should be such a hard decision - especially when I don't generally ask for many extravagant things.
In fact, that's the most expensive thing I'd ever specifically asked for that was just for me. That's the kicker. I go through this thing in my head where I consider the cost of something I want, whether or not it's necessary, how badly I want it, and whether or not we can afford it long before I ask. I've done this for a long time because I know how my husband reacts. It really doesn't matter what it is, how much it costs, or the way in which I ask. He just doesn't seem to like the idea that I have independant thoughts/desires. So, I make damned sure it's something I want and I go into the conversation completely prepared. Anything less and he'll end up talking me out of it. I've not shared this with him because we don't communicate well on any level. The book I'm reading is shedding some insight on that, but I also accept that I bear some of the responsibility. I thought I was handling things the way I should.
Picture the same situation from my husband's perspective. He always ends up giving in to me on the things I ask for because I don't back down. He has to relent to my will because I'll argue the point until I get what I want. That's absolutely true. By the time I've made up my mind, I've already weighed the cost (arguing until he gives in because he won't ever concede the fact that I have a valid point). I know there are lots of women who use subtle manipulation tactics to get what they want. They have a way of planting an idea in their man's head so that he thinks it was his idea in the first place. I know that works, but to me, it seems underhanded and sneaky. Besides, if I understand the situation correctly, the man never has to recognize the fact that his wife is a person with thoughts, wants, and desires. It saves the arguement, but she loses more and more of her identity. He takes credit and she builds resentment.
Then again, there seems to be resentment either way. That's what I'm struggling with right now. The fact that I have to accept this gargantuan ego pushing his will on me, pouting like a baby when he doesn't get his way, telling me I'm damaged because I'm in touch with my emotions, treating me like some blood-sucking gold-digger when I want something, taking for granted everything I do to contribute positively to the household, and just learn how to deal with him. I also have to swallow the fact that he'll likely never change because he can't see past the end of his nose, so I can kiss the idea of an intimate fulfilling relationship goodbye. I have to reconcile this with what I believe to be right. I have to continue to try to live according to my faith, fight against him whenever I do what I know is right because what's right is that I follow the path God has placed in front of me (which is not necessarily the same one my husband has in mind for US - because I don't exist independent of him), and I have to do all of this without building resentment or getting sucked into his neverending arguements because if I allow that to happen, I'll end up a bitter, shriveled up shell of a woman. Either that, or a chain-smoking alcoholic recluse. I'm just not sure I'm up for the task. I'm not so sure anyone should have to be up for that kind of task.
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Da Blues
2007-08-21
I'm in such a funk this afternoon! I feel like I should dig out a black turtleneck, paint a random shade of dark melancholy on my lips and go read bad poetry in some coffee house. Now I'm beginning to wonder if I should take my own lone candle with me to light before the reading or if one will be provided. Is that a commonly stocked item in coffee houses anymore? It should be. I should be able to go into any kitchy little coffee house in America and find all of the familiar trappings of my tortured past. The requisite aroma of the various blends of coffees, the alarming sound of the milk steamer, the muted sound of philosophical discussions, students dressed in carefully selected layers of rumpled malcontent carrying books with provocative titles, mismatched sofas, an eclectic mix of shelves filled with ratty paperbacks and pretentious intellectual games, a small raised platform in the corner for the aspiring musician or poet, walls lined with the works of local artisans, and esoteric musical selections tugging at the fringes of your consciousness.
How I miss those days of getting up early and putting my time in at a job I didn't yet hate because I knew I wouldn't work it long enough to hate it. All so I could piss away the afternoon and evening hours in my favorite coffee house enjoying every moment of the time I spent with self-proclaimed "slackers". Role-playing gamers, musicians, artists, students, the odd yuppie, pretentious people who manage to drop the word "surreal" into a conversation at every opportunity - all dressed the part, wearing their thrift store finds like a uniform of angst and suffering for always being the square peg being unsuccessfully forced into the round hole. I'm poking fun because that's as much a part of who I am as being a mother. A role that doesn't define all of me, but certainly enhances parts of me. I love coffee houses. I can't help it.
I used to sit in the corner watching people as I read and sipped my coffee. Most of the time, they'd wander in, look around, and decide to come and sit awhile with me. We'd talk about everything and nothing. I met my friend Ron there. I haven't seen him in years, but I know that if I did, he'd walk right up to me and plant a dramatic toe-curling kiss right on my mouth. He once asked me if I'd ever had my ankles sucked. When I told him "no", he decided it was something I couldn't live another minute without experiencing, so he lifted my ankle to his mouth and did the most amazing things to it. I think his mouth may have contributed to the decision to have my first tattoo placed around my ankle. He and his brother would both kiss me in greeting and in farewell. His brother's name was Marshall, but he preferred to be called Mars. He was sardonic and quick-witted and I quite enjoyed him - and his kisses. They were among many unusual and idiosyncratic people I met at that place. Now that's a happy crazy thought for the day.
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Not A Morning Person
2007-08-21
I'm tired. Really tired. I haven't been able to get much sleep the past couple of nights. I'm trying to get homework done and get the kids geared up to start school - tomorrow! I'm glad for that. They're bored and tired of me and need to be out making friends. I still have a lot of projects around the house I need to get done and just haven't had the motivation or free time to get them done. Maybe having time to myself to work on those will give me a sense of accomplishment and a chance to think about what's been going on around here.
Thunderstorms have greatly interrupted my sleep, as well. My daughter is afraid of them. She wakes up in the middle of the night and has difficulty getting back to sleep on her own. I don't mind snuggling with her for a little while and giving her the reassurance that she needs, but it wears on me. Between that and the difficulties in dealing with my husband, I'm all but exhausted. He tries every which way to wake me up in the morning before he leaves (or as he's leaving) for work. His behavior has me all knotted up inside to the point where I spend a fair amount of time late at night trying to find my happy place before I go to sleep. Late nights, early mornings, interrupted sleep, and the general tension of the situation are taking their toll.
This morning, my husband did whatever he could to disturb my sleep as he was getting ready to leave for work. While he was doing that, I was peripherally aware of what's happening, but I know I can go right back to sleep after he leaves, so I don't get too worked up about it. Unfortunately, this morning didn't quite work out that way. He called me 20 minutes later to say he'd forgotten his work computer at home and asked if I'd at least bring it half-way because he had a meeting at 7:30 and needed it. He woke me out of a dead sleep and I wasn't particularly pleased with that, but I got up and did as he asked. When I went into the bathroom, I found a note sitting on the counter complaining about some pretty minor stuff - like leaving clothes in the bathroom. He asked if I'd stop doing that. Yeah, that's the way to win friends and influence people.
This all started because I brought up something in our last counseling session about wanting my own bathroom. I did it to illustrate a point. My husband told me he doesn't like the idea of separate bathrooms. Separate sinks maybe, but not separate bathrooms. His parents have separate bathrooms, which I pointed out. He said he's never liked that about them. I found that rather odd. What does he care? It's not about the bathroom. It's about personal space. He's uncomfortable with the idea of me having a space that's separate from his. I have plenty of reasons why, if it were possible, that I'd like my own bathroom and I mentioned them. Women have different grooming needs and different ideas of cleanliness than men. I don't see that a counter cluttered with bottles of lotion and various care items is necessarily dirty, but I have a big problem with...um....bodily fluids that build up behind the toilet because of aiming issues. I take baths, so I also have a problem when the shower curtain is left bunched up because it promotes the growth of mold & mildew. He took offense first to the idea of personal space, but then latched onto this cleanliness thing and has been bitching about it ever since.
Meanwhile, the towels he took out of the dryer over a week ago are still draped across a chair in the living room. I'm usually the one who washes towels, but we agreed that the person who takes them out of the dryer is the one who should fold them. His microwave popcorn bag from last night is still sitting on a tray table in the living room. His dirty shirt is balled up on the floor in front of the washer. The kitty litter needs scooped - which is his job. If his clothes are left in the dryer, I fold them and put them away. If he leaves something out, I usually put it away. If a wrapper is left on the counter or crumbs from making a sandwich, I clean those things up. If it starts piling up to the point where noone is cleaning up after themselves, I'll say something. Normally, I just let it go.
I guess the thing that really gets me is that he took time to write all of that crap down this morning and leave me the note (which I hate because it makes me feel like he's treating me like a child). He spent his mental and physical energy picking me apart because he refuses to face his own deeper issue of co-dependency. He won't admit that he's completely insecure about the idea of me having any kind of personal space, but he knows he's bugged about something, so he latched onto that "difference in cleanliness" thing. The whole time he's focused on this, he should've been focused on what he needed to do to get ready for work. He forgot his damned computer because he was too busy finding fault and pointing a finger at me. And I got out of bed after an interrupted night's sleep in order to do something to help save his ass at work.
I'm not going to be petty and small about the whole situation. I just wanted to vent my frustration. How can a person who says he's looking for positive results in me not see that he's causing many of his own problems and, instead of being a total bitch and rubbing his nose in it, I'm trying like hell to be supportive and kind?? I don't want to be kind. What I want is to tell him to come get his own computer and give him some creative suggestions as to what he can do with it when he gets it. That's my "natural" reaction. I didn't do that - and it's not because I'm a great person. It's because I want things to be better, so I'm choosing to behave better. I cried all the way home after that. I cried because I do want to throw a tantrum. I cried because I have so far to go and receive so little encouragement and support at home. I cried because I'm at least willing to try to see his side of things, but I'm just not getting the same in return.
Then, I stopped. I realized that the fight we had yesterday morning prevented him from going to work over an hour early and talking to God knows who. I took a morning class yesterday so I could go to my son's open house at school last night. My husband couldn't be upstaged by me, so he insisted on going, too. We went out to eat afterwards and that took up the entire evening. He ended up spending time with us instead of hanging out on the computer chatting. Because I changed the plans for the kids on Saturday, he didn't have an opportunity to be alone with that woman. Sunday, he had to spend most of the day with us. This morning, he didn't have time to spend doing whatever because he had to retrieve his computer. I'm hurt by all of these things, and it's a direct result of choices he's making, but those choices are also back-firing on him. I'll be in class tonight and that's fine with me. If he chooses to go out alone or ignore the kids, my daughter will tell me about it. Lately, she's been relaying to me what seem like strange details until I ask my husband about them and he ends up having to admit to making wrong choices.
I've been praying for him lately, through clenched teeth much of the time, but doing it nonetheless. God knows my heart, so I'm honest. I told my husband about some of the praying I do and he actually accused me of lying because he doesn't hear me pray. Just because he doesn't witness something doesn't mean it isn't happening. His doubts are his problem. I don't pray in front of him because I know he wouldn't appreciate or agree with the things I pray. I know they're the right things for me to be praying and I'm not OK at this point with opening them up for him to critique them and tell me where I'm going wrong. I've been praying for God to continue to pursue him. To break through and help him understand. After this morning, I've added something to those prayers. I'm also praying that every attempt he makes to pursue wrong relationships or gain sympathy where he shouldn't will be thwarted. I'm praying many things for myself as well. I'm praying for wisdom to see the "bigger picture" in these situations, personal conviction in areas where I'm wrong, the strength not only to endure, but to push ahead, and I pray that I can be the best mom possible to my kids.
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Messages
2007-08-19
As an alternative to sending messages on here, please consider sending email to bishopsfantasy1@yahoo.com
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Speaking My Mind
2007-08-19
Yesterday was quite a day for me. I don't think I would've been able to get through it if not for what God has been doing in my life. He has been at work. I could never have exhibited the kind of self-control I did in facing that woman without Him. If you ask any of my friends they'll tell you I'm passionate and have little difficulty in expressing unrestrained emotion. When I'm upset, I leave little to the imagination. The way I react to stressful situations is changing. The way I choose to act in relation to how I feel is changing.
I ended up spending a lot of time with my husband yesterday afternoon and evening while we were in the garage painting. While I'm content to listen to music and allow my mind to wander while I work, he seems ill-at-ease in situations where no dialogue is taking place. It struck me as odd that he felt so uncomfortable with silence. After several failed attempts at engaging me in conversation, he finally said, "I'm really trying to have a conversation with you." Although I was fine, I decided to be sensative to his need for verbal interaction. He asked me what I was thinking, so I told him. I think he may have gotten more than he bargained for.
We'd had a conversation a few days earlier about choosing a church. I was out of town three Sundays in a row during the month of July. I told him I wanted to be part of the decision-making process in choosing a church. I also told him I didn't want to go to the churches he'd already visited by himself. He said that wouldn't be a problem because he'd only been to two and wasn't interested in becoming a member of either of them. While I was away, instead of going to one of those previously visited churches, he elected to try out a new church. He received a pretty warm welcome and really enjoyed it. The following week, the kids were with him and I was gone, so he decided to take them. He went back a third time while I was away again with the kids. During this time, he spent one-on-one time with the associate pastor and ended up unburdening himself of our problems. So, someone on the pastoral staff who'd never met me suddenly knew way more than he should have. He learned all of this without my knowledge or consent.
Since I wasn't aware of what had happened, I agreed to visit this church with my family. There was no warm welcome for me. The people had all met my husband, so they would greet him and introductions to me were kind of an afterthought. Nobody made a move to invite us to eat lunch with them - they'd all done that the first couple of Sundays my husband had visited. OK, whatever. I took the initiative in going to the Wednesday night Bible study. I've been the one to engage in conversations. After I went to that first Sunday morning service, my husband hands me this personality profile to fill out. The associate pastor had given one to each of us to fill out. I asked him why and it was then that he came clean about spilling his guts to the guy. I'm thinking, so I just met someone who knows my husband's version of our problems and I'm going to fill out some stupid survey so he can tell my husband how to relate to me. Yay!
Alrighty then! The whole situation has suddenly become awkward and I'm thinking I want to go somewhere else. We're not comitted to this church in any way, so why not visit someplace else. When I brought up the idea, my son and husband both said they like the church and wanted to continue going. I countered with the reminder that we were supposed to decide on a church together. The subject got dropped. I spent some time thinking and praying about it. I examined my own motives. While it was true I felt like I was at a disadvantage from the start, I also know that if it's the church we're supposed to go to, I should be able to hear God's message loud and clear. Well, as it turns out, that's the kicker. I've had to really stretch in order to hear anything in the sermons that challenged, convicted, or resonated with me. I've been to church 4 Sundays in a row and I have yet to hear a message that made a difference to me.
This may be a great church, but it's not the one for me. I can go every week until the end of time and I don't think that's going to change. I brought the subject up with my counselor. She reinforced what I already knew - choosing a church is about what God wants, not about how nice the people are. When my husband pushed the issue on conversation yesterday, I brought the subject of church up again. I did it very delicately and very non-confrontational. He tried every which way to divert my attention, to shut the conversation down and avoid the discussion, but I was relentless.
I asked him what he got out of last week's sermon. He couldn't remember the sermon. When I refreshed his memory, he still couldn't recall the point of the message. I remembered and I shared with him how the bulk of the sermon had no Biblical base. It was a nice message about being good to other people, but it left God completely out of the equation. I told him I need more than that. I need to know how being "good" lines up with God's word. I asked him if he knew how to go about choosing a church. He didn't have an answer. He said we'd never had that conversation before. I told him that we'd done a lot of things wrong in the past and I believe that was among the many things. I asked him if he thought I should have an equal voice in the decision and whether or not it was important for my spiritual needs to be met. He said he liked the church we've been going to. He said he felt welcome there. I reminded him that I didn't get the same experience there. He tried to tell me he had to go to church somewhere while I was gone. I reminded him that he could've visited one of the ones he'd previously gone to. I told him he made a choice that had negative results. I also said that it wouldn't have mattered how I was welcomed because the church still wasn't meeting my spiritual needs.
I don't think he understood much of what I was saying. I don't think he really tried. I find it bizarre that his parents have decided to leave a church they'd been attending for a long time because of spiritual reasons. They're searching for a different church and taking what I think is the proper route - considering where God wants them to be. He seems to be able to accept that about them, but can't quite see how that also applies to our situation. How can someone who grew up in church not understand what church is about? I don't understand him any more than he understands me, but I stuck to what I know is right. I prayed on my own about where to attend and we visited a different church this morning. I'm really excited about the message.
The message this morning was about how our goal should be to draw closer to God, surrender our will to Him, and allow His Spirit to work in our lives. Our behavior changes when our heart changes. The message spoke directly to me and was so completely relevant to the conversation I had with my husband yesterday. It gave me goosebumps. We received a warm welcome from everyone there. My son, who was dead-set against visiting another church, had a really great time. He wants to go to a pool party the youth group is having this evening. He told me after Sunday School, "Don't gloat!". I pretended not to know what he was talking about, but I know it was his way of telling me he was enjoying himself. He saw several kids he'd gone to camp in Storm Lake with at the church this morning. How bizarre is that? We went out to lunch in a group of 19 from the church, including the pastor. It felt like home to me. I don't want to get too attached because I have to be as fair to the situation as I've asked my husband to be. The church needs to meet all our spiritual needs, not just mine.
My husband hasn't really spoken to me since yesterday. I don't know what he's going to say about the church. I don't know if he even gave it a fair shot. All I can do is pray. I thank God for what I experienced this morning. It was exactly what I needed.
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Backed Into A Corner
2007-08-18
Here's the situation: Last night, I went and helped out with the rummage sale the church was having. I needed to get out of the house and be around people, even if they are all total strangers. I took my daughter with me because she's also getting a touch of cabin fever. We got home just after 8pm. My husband and son were gone - no note or anything left to indicate where they might be, so I called. I didn't get an answer, so I sent a text. I eventually got a call back to say they were out to eat. OK, no problem.
When they get home, my son comes in and says, "We ran into one of Dad's co-workers at dinner. Her son invited me over to their house. Can I go?" My son hasn't had the opportunity to make many friends this summer and I want him to spend time with kids his age. Why did it have to be the same damned woman they had lunch with when I was out of town and the one who was exchanging those text messages with my husband? It's hard enough to trust him right now with all of the inappropriate things he's been engaging in. I'm supposed to accept the fact that he "happened" to run into her at a place he never normally goes to?
I was upset. I didn't show it to my son. I took a deep breath, tried very hard to deal with my own insecurities and, with the help of a friend, talked through my completely furious initial reaction. I thought about it and talked with my husband about it later. I told him it really hurt to think that I learned about this "chance" encounter with my son. It was upsetting to be placed in that kind of position. I told him that situations like this continue to chip away at whatever progress we're trying to make. I said I wanted to be fair to our son and allow him to have friends, but I didn't create this awkward situation and I didn't appreciate having it dumped in my lap. He could easily have told the kid that plans for today were out of the question. Nope. He passed the decision on to me. I couldn't exactly tell my son he couldn't go because his dad has made some piss-poor choices in who he's tried to gain sympathy from. I was in a crappy position and my husband knew it.
So, I made the decision that my son could invite the kid over to our house. My turf. I made the stipulation that my son had to be the one to call and set it up and that my husband wasn't to be involved in contact. Of course, that went straight out the window when she emailed him to get directions to our place. I addressed that when it came up, too. I told him he should've had her call me and ask. If she's not comfortable calling me, then she shouldn't be trying to insinuate herself (and her son) into our lives. Come to think of it, what the hell kind of woman dumps her kid off into a situation she knows is volatile just from what my husband has told her?? Whatever.
I asked my husband to make himself scarce when she arrived. I answered the door and I was gracious. I made small talk, but didn't invite her in. I asked her if there was anything I should know about her son, which she answered "no" too (she maybe should've told me he hadn't taken his ADD medication). The encounter was brief, but I could see she didn't expect me to behave the way I did. I didn't behave out of the ordinary for who I am. I am kind and gracious and welcoming. I am a great hostess, regardless of the fact that the situation wasn't entirely of my choosing.
When she came to pick him up, we'd been in the garage painting. I approached her and left my husband stuck in the corner of the garage with his paint brush. She asked how her son had behaved and my husband made sure to tell her he was disobedient and difficult. I didn't think he'd been that bad, but the boys had both gotten on my nerves because I'm having female problems and my tolerance level is lower than normal. I told her as much. I'm sure she didn't expect me to be quite so open. I asked her if she'd done anything fun with her free time. She said she went shopping to fill the time, despite the fact that she doesn't particularly care to shop. She said her son is always around, so she didn't really know what to do with herself. When she found out we'd gone out to dinner, she asked how much she owed us. I told her, "He was our guest." She thanked us for the invitation and made sure her son did as well. I didn't say he's always welcome or imply that there would be future invitations. There won't be.
I'm not insensative. I felt sorry that she didn't have a friend to call and spend time with while her son was at our house. I can see she's probably very lonely and has had to make tough choices in order to be there for her son. I feel bad for that. Under other circumstances, I'd likely try to ease her burden and be a friend to her. I'm just not a generous enough person to do that right now. I don't have it in me because of the choices my husband has made. He made it difficult and awkward because he chose to confide things he shouldn't have. He chose to extend himself to her in an inappropriate way. I can't control him. If he spends time with her at work or continues to make contact with her in other ways, he'll be able to do it without my knowledge or consent. He'll also reap the consequences for his decisions. Unfortunately, so will she and so will the kids (ours and hers). I hope that doesn't happen.
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Project for Kenneth
2007-08-18
Apparently your little buddy needs a place to change so as not to expose himself. Happy building!
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Cell Phone Epidemic
2007-08-17
I didn't realize how much I hated the sound of cell phones ringing in restaurants until I took a cruise where the cell phones didn't work. As the ship was docking at the end of the cruise, the phones started ringing and it hammered home the point that cell phone etiquette needs to be firmly established. Laws are being put in place to cover the dangers of talking while driving, but what about the annoyance habits that can't be legislated?
For instance, when I'm in the check-out line, the only time I would consider talking on the phone is if I'm expecting a call from the doctor's office. Most people understand that those calls need to be answered because a life might actually be hanging in the balance. Other than that, there's absolutely no reason a phone call should take precedence over a face-to-face interaction.
Another scenario: I'm at my kid's basketball game. I shut my phone off because I'm there for the sole purpous of giving him my undivided attention. I'm pretty sure I chose to have kids, not the other way around, so there should be times in their lives when they can expect me to be completely focused on them. Sports activities, school programs, concerts, and the like are some of those times. I've actually heard parents on a number of occasions answer their phone and say, "I can't talk right now. I'm at my kid's game." If that's the case, you people have voicemail. Let it do its job!! There was life before the cell phone. Remember answering machines? People would have to wait until they got home before listening to their messages.
My most pressing phone pet peave lately is the epidemic of unflushed toilets in the ladies room. It took me a while to figure out that it wasn't just the issue of automatic flushing equipment in some, but not all, restrooms. No, the real culprit? Talking on the phone while you're taking a pee. Public toilets make a lot of noise when they flush and it has a tendency to echo, exacerbating the problem. People are either too embarassed or too intent on talking to flush. Not only that, but they're putting the people around them in a quandary because they don't want to be rude and interrupt the conversation by flushing. WTF?? You're in the bathroom. Not me! I'm taking my stand (or sit, as the case may be). You can rest assured that I'll be flushing, whether someone is on the phone or not. Not only that, but I may flush a few of the adjoining commodes as well, just for good measure. It won't be a wasted effort because it's quite likely that someone in a nearby stall was too afraid or too inconsiderate to flush for the next person coming in.
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Superman, Where Are You Now?
2007-08-17
Been a tough morning. The day is likely to get tougher as it progresses. Still, my sense of humour hasn't deserted me. Superman is long gone, so how about finding his replacement?
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Girly Stuff
2007-08-16
I had plans today - with someone other than family members! Call me crazy, but I was pretty excited. I needed to get out of the house and it was really good to go with someone else, even a total stranger I met at church. We went to a little area called Valley Junction. It's an area a few blocks in size that has all kinds of artisan-type shops. There's a costume shop, a vintage clothing store, lots of jewelry and bead shops, a yarn store, several small quilting shops, and several small eating establishments. I had a great time wandering around looking at stuff and talking with Ann.
It's no secret that I've been really lonely here. I like to spend time with all kinds of people and hear their stories, but the ones I feel I can be close with are few and far between. I know it's going to take a good long time before I feel like I've established a group of friends. Even though I'm in school, my classmates are working towards different fields of study than I am. I won't be grouped in with fellow nursing students until the October term, so it's unlikely I'll see many of these people in classes after the 12 weeks is up. Being here has seemed like a bad dream, for the most part. I know I won't always feel this way, but I sure do right now.
I still have lots of thoughts about the Bishop, too. I miss him. I told my counselor that and she asked me what I missed. I know she was trying to get at the fact that the relationship was pure fantasy, but if that's the case, then every relationship is pure fantasy. We see only what we want to see, so every experience is skewed by our own particular view of reality. I'm sorry, but I'm still not on the same page as her where he's concerned. Yes, I miss the way he listened to me, but I also miss all of the things that are unique to him - his sense of humour, his smile, the warmth in his eyes, and yes, his touch too. I haven't been dwelling on these things nearly as much as I did a few months ago, but today they seem to be at the forefront of my mind. I can't maintain self-discipline all of the time. It's been 5 months since the last time he held me, yet it's all still so vivid in my mind. I still care enough to cry. These aren't things I want to feel or things I chose. They're part of my reality. It hurts to lose someone you're close to, regardless of the circumstances.
I don't know where all of that came from - except maybe yesterday I really enjoyed the time my husband was away. It's been really difficult to have him in my space the past couple of months. He's gone at work during the day, but it's the nights that are still so difficult. I cry myself to sleep on occasion and it's hard to have him in the same room. I feel like I've been stuffing some of this because I don't have the alone time to process through it. I really will be glad when the kids start school again. As much as I enjoyed spending time with someone else today and as much as I enjoy having my kids around, I recognize that I still need time when I'm completely alone. There isn't a person in the world I can tell about some of what goes through my head. By now, the consensus is that I should be over it. That I shouldn't think about certain things and shouldn't admit to certain feelings. I don't talk much about them, but they're there nonetheless.
I can't help it. I can't help thinking about him on occasion and wondering if he remembers. If he feels like he's just coming out of a bad dream or if it meant as much to him as it did to me. I remember. I still love him. Even if I don't think about it. Even if I try to put it from my mind, those thoughts and feelings remain. What kind of person would I be if I could just turn those things off as if I were flipping a switch? He was a huge part of my life for a time and I can't just pretend something different. He made an impact. He left an impression. I'm still trying to do the right thing. I'm still trying to keep my eyes facing forward and put one foot in front of the other, but my heart still aches.
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Crashed Out
2007-08-15
Today has been a complete waste of time in terms of getting anything accomplished. I should have sorted through and loaded stuff from my basement to take to a church for a garage sale to benefit kids in Haiti. I was also supposed to complete my "homework" for Bible study tonight. I'm a little behind because of school meetings and homework for my classes. Rather than doing any of those things, I've been sleeping.
My husband and son went to World's of Fun today. They've been gone since 6:30 this morning and won't be be back until around 9 tonight. My daughter and I have been laying around watching TV, dozing, and getting up long enough to eat a little something. I have zero motivation to do anything more, including go to Bible study, but I skipped it last week in favor of spending more time in Sioux City. Perhaps I should at least bathe today....wouldn't want to overdo it!
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Surviving School
2007-08-14
I can totally understand why my son hates school! Yesterday, we went to a meeting at the junior high. It was for new families entering the school district - a chance for the kids to pick up their schedules, do any final registration paperwork, and cover any questions parents might have. Incidentally, the registration packet contained just about every thing a person could possibly want to know about the school, plus about a hundred forms - many of them requiring parents to fill out the exact same info on each one. I get the joy of filling out those forms for each of the kids in their respective schools. Between the kids' and my school forms and the notes I take during class, I figure it'll take about another month or two before my hand ends up crippled. Guess I'd better get a jump on learning how to write with the other one.
If I'd been running this meeting, I would've separated the kids from the parents right away so the kids could learn how to read their schedules and find their classes. Meanwhile, the parents could've been filling out the last of their forms. At the end, have the parents and kids meet up in a common room for a brief question and answer period - if they had any questions by then. Unfortunately, nobody asked me. Nope. They held the parents and students hostage in the media room while they went over (and over again) inane things like the lunch menu. It's online and printed in the newspaper folks. Enough said, right? Not even close. They had to go over ALL of the various options the kids would have to choose from for lunch - keep in mind I hadn't eaten yet! Eventually, the meeting let out and we were able to go pick up the rest of our registration packets. All the packet had in it was the schedule and a bunch of stuff about the free lunch program. I had to wait in line at the office (with only 2 secretaries working) twice in order to get my son's bus pass and pay his book fees. Why they didn't include the bus pass in the registration packet is beyond me. I'm sure there were several families who left without them because they didn't know their kids will need them in order to board the bus and because they didn't know they'd have to ask for them specifically. What should've taken half an hour at the most ended up taking over 2 hours.
OK, so that's taken care of until next Monday night's open house at the school where I'm sure I can look forward to an equally stimulating experience. Today brought the home visit from the kindergarten teacher. She seemed....well....devoid of personality. She's perky and nice, but not much more than that. I hope she's better in the classroom than she was in person. I bet it's hard to go into people's homes and meet them for the first time. She had an assistant with her, but I can't imagine what it must be like to go knocking on doors without really knowing what you're getting into. At least she had something of a script to follow, though I was a little unsure of what she was trying to accomplish.
First impressions are important and I didn't feel like either of us did so hot on that. They were 20 minutes early, so I'd just gotten out of the shower and my son answered the door. I'm OK with 5 minutes early, but 20? That's seriously excessive! We didn't spend much time on chit-chat - no small talk whatsoever. She launced right into the list of questions she had in front of her. A lot of the questions seemed like they should've been answered by my daughter rather than me, so I redirected them to her. The questions they had for me were a little redundant because I'd already answered them in the registration materials. I did find out one piece of useful information - the school has a before & after school childcare option, so I won't have to worry so much about starting my day classes in October. They'll also feed the kids breakfast if I can't get the girl to eat. The down side is that I have to fill out more forms to get her registered. Ugh!!
School starts next Wednesday and I'll be glad to get the kids settled into their routine. Dealing with teachers and staff at the schools just isn't my favorite thing. I try to put myself in their shoes and be sensative to the nature of their jobs, but there are still some things that need to be dealt with head-on. Not only that, but sometimes the teacher is wrong. I don't know why it's such a blow to the ego to admit that, but it is. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they pick the wrong battles with some kids and maybe it's just the fact that they're supposed to be more mature than the kids. Everybody makes mistakes and has those moments they're not proud of. It's a lot easier to just admit them, apologize, and move on than it is to dig your heels in and act even less mature.
One thing is certain in all of it - I need a nap! One of thes days my daughter will sleep through the night consistently. I won't stay up too late studying and playing on the computer. I won't have to get up early and clean the house because I'll do a better job with the maintenance cleaning. Yeah right. I won't hold my breath. But hey, the dishes are done and I can spend the rest of the day studying.
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Simply Red
2007-08-10
My feeble attempt at "Holding Back The Years" :)
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Exhausted, But Happy
2007-08-08
I've had quite the challenging day. I drove to Sioux City so I could have lunch with my swim group and celebrate my friend June's birthday. On the way there, I blew a tire going 75 miles per hour. That was quite an ordeal. It sounded like a jet taking off, then the van started the tell-tale hard vibration like hitting speed bumps at highway speed. I pulled over, put my jacket on (it was raining, of course), and got out to change the tire. My son got right out with me intending to help. He's a great kid! We got the jack out and the spare tire out from under the van. That's right, I was fully intending to change that tire myself, with no thought or concern to the fact that I was in a dress and heels. I am WOMAN after all! Just then, a highway patrolman (God bless Officer K. A. Jensen) stopped and helped us out. He changed my tire for me, then told me where I could get it replaced and followed me all the way to the repair shop. That guy deserves a giant gold star for the day. I wish I'd gotten his badge number, too! My son took pictures. He's definitely my kid!
We got under way about 45 minutes later, but I'd left a little early, so we were only 15 minutes late for lunch. I hate being late, but it couldn't be helped! I'm just so thankful I didn't lose control of the vehicle and no crazies (outside the normal range of crazy) stopped. Thank you God! The rest of the trip was uneventful, except for a phone call to and text message from my husband. I called to make sure there were funds available to pay for the tire in our secondary account because I couldn't find my bank card. When he found out about the tire blowing, he asked about the warranty on tires and the cost of the repair, but it didn't occur to him until much later to ask how the kids and I were doing. As for the texting, I'm just about ready to cut that function off the cell phones altogether. I'm sure he had his reasons for telling me he's miserable and lonely and has a hard time attaching a positive emotion to thoughts of me. I'm sure he had some brilliant way to explain how that was productive. I just haven't heard it yet. Maybe he'll enlighten me at our counseling appointment tomorrow.
So, my kids and I had a great time at lunch, then we stopped by a friend's house to visit. She has a daughter the same age as my son and they get along famously. I left him there - and my daughter too - and went to meet with my pastor over the whole text issue. I wanted to touch base anyway, but I also needed a little guidance in how to react rationally. Ugh! Being a grown-up is soooo hard! We talked for quite awhile and it was good productive conversation about where I'm at spiritually and emotionally. He was very encouraging (without crossing any boundaries or communicating anything more than what's acceptable). What a relief to have someone to bounce things off of who will tell me the truth and be kind. Well, sometimes he's brutal, but not in a condescending or malicious way. He can't help it if the truth hurts!
I went and visited with my friend some more, collected my kids, made preparations to leave town (stopped at Starbucks), then got on the road. Little did I know I was driving into MAJOR thunderstorms. At one point, the sky turned that creepy sickly yellow-gray color before turning pitch black and dumping down rain. I stopped at a small town for a little while, then decided to chance the weather because I wasn't far from home. My son was calling my husband every few minutes to have him check the radar and keep us informed. It was very stressful to drive in that because I'm not terribly fond of storms and neither are my kids. I had to hold it together so they wouldn't freak out, but I was shaking so bad it was difficult to apply even pressure on the accelerator. I kept praying, God, keep my eyes glued to the road ahead, keep my hands glued to the wheel, keep my butt glued to the seat and keep my van glued to the road. I focused on a semi that was in front of me because it was impossible to see the lane markers and I made it home safe. Praise God again. It was pouring rain when I got here, the back door was locked and the porch light was off. Oh well. Tomorrow is a new day. God's mercies are new every morning!
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New Assignment
2007-08-07
I had a counseling appointment this afternoon. Kenneth, you're gonna love this. I've been assigned some reading material - a book called, "Enough About You, Let's Talk About Me: How to Recognize and Manage the Narcissists in Your Life". The good news of the day is that whatever brand of crazy I have is the "normal" kind, so I am good enough and smart enough and people should like me!!! So nah nah na nah nah.8 Comments | Link to This | Back to top
Unmet Needs
2007-08-05
I've been sitting here trying to puzzle something out for awhile and I think I'm getting to the root of it, but maybe typing some things will help. My husband and I were talking earlier about a note he'd left for me yesterday morning. Here's the situation: He wrote down a bunch of bulletin points on a sheet of paper about how my actions were making him feel. He dropped off the sheet of paper on the table next to me (while I was mostly asleep), then told me he was going to go have breakfast. He said he was going because he needed to get away from here.
I chose to read the note, jotted down a few of my own notes, then set it aside. I went about business as usual getting the kids up and fed, starting them on some household chores and doing a bit of cleanup myself. When he came back from "breakfast" 4 hours later, he came inside and watched me finish loading the dishwasher. He offered to help, but I was nearly done, so declined the offer. He headed out to the garage to get some stuff done. When I was done with dishes, I decided to go to Starbucks. I stopped in the garage to say where I was going, my husband stopped me and told me he'd spent the morning thinking. He came to realize that a lot of what the counselor said was true and he'd made the decision to put his full effort into saving our marriage. The rest of the day went OK. We did virtually nothing for the rest of the afternoon. I went shopping in the evening by myself, but only because my invitation was declined when I outlined how I'd be spending a LOT of time trying on and rejecting jeans.
My husband never once asked to discuss his note yesterday. I could tell he was still bugged, but he didn't even try to broach the subject. I went back to that place of feeling like he'd dumped his baggage on me and walked away. Instead of leaving it that way, I asked if he wanted to set aside some time today to discuss it. The stuff in the letter can be broken down into three categories: 1) stuff from the past that's supposed to stay there 2) how I'm failing to meet his needs and 3) justifying his actions based on my failures. For the first time ever, I was able to speak up for myself with confidence and give all of his own stuff right back to him instead of adding it to my own load. I went through each point and gave him exactly the same feedback he got from the counselor on Friday.
The one thing that had me stumped is his need for physical touch. The counselor told him that his need isn't a life & death thing. She said that a man will not die if he goes through a period of time where he doesn't experience physical touch (keeping in mind that this period of time is temporary, as has been made clear to him). That got me thinking about God and how He's supposed to be our sufficiency. My husband pulled out that, "I need you to touch me and you're not. If you don't, I begin to look elsewhere for it." If God really can meet all of our needs, then how can physical touch really be of paramount importance? The question isn't whether God can meet our needs, it's about how he meets them. My husband said he firmly believes that God meets our needs through other people.
I can accept that. I know there are people in my life who have saved me from certain destruction and they can't really point to why they called when they did other than to say they felt an overwhelming burden. I also know that God is answering my prayers on a daily basis and offering me guidance. I've been trying to read at least one verse out of the Bible every day. Between church, Bible study, the emails I've been getting (thanks Barnabus!), KLOVE radio, and my own private study time, I've been doing OK there. Everything I've read recently has been relevant in some way or another. Friday night, I have to admit I was at my lowest point and nothing was getting through. Instead of giving up, I let go of all of the expectations about what I wanted to hear or what I thought I should hear. I called a very dear friend and had her pray with me, then talked with her for a good long time. During the course of that conversation, the light went on and something broke through my misery to offer hope.
My husband, who grew up in church and is supposed to know all of the stuff I'm just now discovering, is having the polar opposite experience. He says he prays and reads his Bible and talks to his friends, but he doesn't feel like his needs are getting met or that God is talking to him. I think what he's trying to say is that God isn't meeting his needs because I'm not doing what he wants me to (since God works through people). I have a hard time with that. I don't want to point the finger at my husband or tear him down, but I do think he bears some of the responsibility for where he's at right now. He has some pretty clear expectations for what he should be getting right now. Those "needs" seem to be over-shadowing everything else in his life. God doesn't lie. If He says he can supply all my needs, then I have to believe that. I also believe that His ways are better than mine and He may not do things the way I think they should be done or in the time frame I want them done. The responsibility lies with me to open my teeny tiny finite mind and realize that God is bigger and stronger and more creative than I am.
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Kicking A$$ And Taking Names
2007-08-04
Yesterday, after a teary plea for help left on the counselor's voicemail, I secured an afternoon appointment for my husband and I. It was quite the experience! That woman is scary smart and as slick as anyone I've ever seen at shutting down arguements. We started the session with a copy of my blog postings from Saturday and Monday morning - the thoughts I'd recorded after the whole texting incident. She asked if she could share them with my husband and I agreed. He read through them and then she asked what he thought. He went into a long, drawn-out explaination of how he's leaned on his friends at work the past couple of months. How they've gone out of their way to ask him what's wrong and how he's confided in them. He said he's so grateful for the feedback and help they've offered and he feels like the least he can do in an effort to give back is to help them when they ask (the basketball hoop incident) and be there for them (the texting stuff). She listened to everything he had to say. Then, she responded.
She nailed him to the wall. Not in a mean way, but definitely got him to confront his actions head-on and own up to the truth behind those actions. She got him to admit that he hasn't been trying to work on our relationship at all. Rather, he's been trying to sabotage it and force me to make a decision towards divorce so that he wouldn't have to take responsibility for breaking up the marriage. He could shake his head sadly and say "I did everything I could, but it just wasn't enough". She spelled it out for him with crystal clarity. His actions are his choice. Those actions have been wrong. The texting thing was a no-brainer. That would've been wrong under any circumstances. Any attempts to justify that on his part is simply an excuse for avoiding the decision to remain in the marriage or exit it. She told him that his behavior will inevitably lead us to divorce court. She flat out told him that he needs to shop for an attorney or make the decision to do whatever it takes to reconcile. Every time he tried to argue, shift the blame, or change the course of the conversation, she brought him right back. She set the boundaries for the conversation in a way I couldn't. She got him to admit to his motivations - that he's done things to intentionally hurt me. She pointed out that calling me "damaged" was untrue, unfair, and ultimately soul-damaging.
If she didn't get through to him yesterday, then nothing ever will. This morning, he told me he's made the decision to stay. To really put everything he has into making things better. He admitted that words mean nothing and his actions will have to support what he said. Time will tell. All I can say for myself is that I will continue in my commitment to do better and be better. To draw closer to God and form and maintain healthy relationships with healthy boundaries. I'm learning more and more about what I can reasonably expect and what I'm supposed to take responsibility for. I made a commitment to see this through to whatever conclusion it comes to.
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Masque
2007-08-04
I'm sitting here with stuff smeared all over my face that feels much like the consistency of snot. As it dries, it pulls tighter and feels like my face is covered in dried glue. The package says it'll refine my poors and make my skin feel smooth and supple. Another torturous step in the never-ending quest for eternal youth. It's futile, but at the very least it might clear up some of the stress-induced acne I've been experiencing lately! As with everything, it brings a song to mind by the Newsboys, called "It's All Who You Know"
For the want of a book marker
the doctors lost their place
For the want of a cut-line
they couldn't lift his face
For the want of a facelift
his ratings dropped
Then the sitcom folded
then the network flopped
after the climb
after time turns designs to despair
it is good
nothing's fair
it's all who you know
For the want of a cough drop
the musher's throat went hoarse
For the want of direction
the huskies went off course
Then the sled got snowbound
it took some time to free `em
Now they're on display
inside the British Museum
after the climb
after time turns designs to despair
it is good
nothing's fair
it's all who you know
and after the fall
after all of our strivings are dust
even so
good for us
it's all who you know
For the want of a compass
we'd be shuffling charts
For the want of good radar
we'd be glacier parts
For the want of a lighthouse
can't you see
we'd be lost at sea
lost at sea
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Boundaries
2007-08-03
Last night was the worst night yet for me. I don't know how to do any of this. The reason I keep trying is for my children. I want them to have a home filled with love - a healthy, safe place to grow up. I spoke with my son this morning. He's hurting, too. Not an unexpected revelation, but what do I do? I try to tell him we're working on making it better, but I don't think "we" are. I think I am.
My husband and I were scheduled to go back to the counselor next Thurs. We can't wait. We can't table the things that need to be discussed for another week. I can't deal with him picking apart my sentences instead of listening to what I'm trying to communicate. I can't take being punished anymore. I want what's best, but when is it enough? I think he's pushing me to leave so he can avoid making the decision. If I take action, I'm the one to blame. Then he won't ever have to answer the question, "are you in this, or just saying the right words?" He won't ever have to face his responsibility for inflicting harm. I can't shoulder all of it anymore. I can't tell him, "When you lie to me, I feel hurt." and then face the apology that goes like this: "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry we both lied."
That's not an apology. It's an accusation. This morning he told me his mom has been feeling such a burden to pray for us the past couple of months. She's been worried about us, about him, about the kids. I don't know where to draw the commas in. I don't know what that was supposed to communicate - that his mom wasn't concerned in the least about me, that he's showing he has family support and I don't, that his family is more spiritual than mine? When everything is so hostile and he's admitted to doing things just to be mean and spiteful, how can I help but question everything? He didn't go straight to work like he said he would yesterday. I took him to work this morning because I'd picked him up at work yesterday and we never went back to get his car. He had me drop him off at his car instead of at the front of the building. I don't believe he stayed there. I don't believe anything he says anymore except when he tells me he doesn't love me, doesn't care, and doesn't want to be around me. I believe that he thinks he's the victim and I'm the wicked witch and I don't think there's a damned thing I can do about it. I also believe wholeheartedly that I'm tired of trying.
I called a friend at midnight last night to ask her to pray with me. She did. She helped me sort through some of what I was feeling so I can hang on a little while longer. She tells me the truth and tells me the truth in love. She listens and offers constructive feedback. I feel like I should be paying her! I'm really tired today. Tired, depressed, a little hungover, and angry - but mostly tired.
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
Maker of heaven and earth
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I Don't Get It
2007-08-01
During one of our breaks from class last night, I was listening to a couple of girls talk about some guy they both know. They went through a long list of girls he'd dated in a relatively short time span, including the sister of one who was talking. She was explaining why her sister broke up with the guy. Apparently, he'd wanted her to join him in his drug experimentations. When she refused to do one of them, he waited 'til they were having sex and jabbed her with a needle, injecting her against her will.
That story makes me want to do a full body shudder. I thought things like that only happened in the land of Jerry Springer. I guess they have to get their guests from somewhere and Des Moines is as good a place as any, especially when people seem so willing to tell the story. I just can't imagine the thought process that sets a person up for all of that. If you know a guy sleeps around and you know he's a drug addict, why would you date him in the first place? Honestly - there are lots of guys out there who are clean and relatively well behaved if sex is what you're after (I got hit on twice last night by those types). Those girls can't possibly be looking for love in that situation because thehy know, given the guy's track record, that it's not going to last more than a week or two. I do have some sympathy about the girl getting shot up with something she didn't want to take. What a disgusting pig for doing something so hideous! That's the same kind of guy who'd sleep around indiscriminately even if he knew he had an STD.
Don't get me wrong - I'm no prude. I did lots of stupid stuff in high school and the couple of years I spent in college before I got married. I knew the score, though. Love was not on the agenda for myself or the person I was with. I never got into situations that I didn't think I could safely get out of, should things go wrong. Most importantly, I never messed around with junkies. I had some friends who were messed up. I'd seen them at parties and occasionally gone out with them. I saw these smart, fun, enthusiastic people slowly waste away into lumps who's only interest in life was getting a fix. All their stories were about how they'd gotten f*&cked up and the stupid things they did. Their plans for the weekend? Get f*&cked up. I saw how drugs sucked the life out of them and there wasn't a thing anybody could do about it if they weren't willing to quit.
I guess what gets me about the conversation last night is that it took place out in the open outside the student lounge where anybody could overhear it. The girls talked like it was an everyday occurance. Like, yeah, that sucks and I'd kick his ass, but it wasn't a shock to them. What kind of world do we live in where an incident like that is barely remarkable? What are we teaching our girls to make them believe they're not worth more than getting screwed and drugged by some strung-out "playa"? Am I just so naive and this really is commonplace?
It scares me to think that my sweet little 5-yr-old girl will be facing these same things in less than 10 years. Will she know she deserves better than that? My son is already there. Some of the kids he'll be going to school with this fall will already be skipping down that path. When I think back to some of the things I witnessed in 9th grade, I wonder how I made it through without becoming an addict. What makes the difference and does he have whatever it is? Is he equipped to go out there and say no?
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