Forgiveness is Freeing

The beauty of life is that although really hard things happen, we can move on.

We can pick up those broken pieces and fight like hell for what is important to us.

Lately, I've been thinking about forgiveness and how powerful it is---or more-so how freeing it is.

Two years and one month ago, I was in a marriage that I had fought for, living each day and believing that I would be married forever---and then my husband came home and told me he no longer loved me.
Two years ago, I was told by some of my family members that I needed to fight harder to keep my marriage together, even after Peter had left me.
Twenty-two months ago, I was told on two separate occasions that I should "lose weight to show him what he's missing out on".
Sixteen months ago, I found out that my ex-husband had hidden a pornography addiction from me our entire marriage.
A year ago, a family member told me they didn't understand why I felt the need to broadcast my pain all over the internet and that it could ruin my family.
Six months ago, I lost a friendship I thought would last forever.
Three months ago, there was a stream of hateful comments on my blog that stabbed at my character.
A month ago, my Bishop told me that all I needed to do was pray and read my scriptures to find my faith in the LDS church again.
Three weeks ago, I tried to open up to my mom about leaving the church and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Aren't you worried about ruining your children?"

It's been a painful few years---and not all of the pain is listed above.
But the reason I brought that pain up is not to relive it---I've done that enough in the past two years.

The reason I bring those painful memories up is to remind myself that I am a different person, a better person, because of each and every one of those comments and trials. I am stronger and I have forgiven.

This past month, it started to hit me just how much I have moved on. I woke up one day and realized that I hadn't thought about my pain in over a day---and then sometimes it'd go two days or three days or a week.

And the dreams have stopped. That might sound odd but for me, that is an indicator of my healing. For at least a year after Peter left, I had nightmares almost every night about him. Once in a while, I'd have a good dream with him in it but for the most part, my dreams brought out so much of the pain I was feeling and wasn't able to articulate.

I survived the anger phase---I survived so much that I thought I wasn't capable of surviving.
I can look back to six months ago as I sat in my therapist's office and sobbed for the first time in front of her (after seeing her for 2.5 years) and how much pain I was trying to unload. I can look back at that moment and marvel that I am here---that I am not only breathing but smiling and focusing on so much of the good in life.

God has been working miracles within me. I have faith that the journey I am on is exactly where He wants me to be.
I have faith that whatever I decide will only bring my children and I closer to God.

Forgiveness, for me, starts when I am able to see the perspective of the other side and feel empathy for the other person's pain.
I first felt this a week after Peter told me about his pornography addiction. I remember him sobbing on the phone and apologizing over and over again. I wasn't yet able to forgive him in that moment but it was my first glimpse of empathy for him. I realized how scared he had been for years leading up to the day he left.
And God allowed it to happen many more times in the past two years, from realizing my family was trying to grasp the reality of divorce just as much as I was to realizing that the hateful comments I've read about myself came from a place of love and protection for another person in their lives.

We can choose what we want to see. 
We can choose to see the hate and label it as such or we can try and look through it to see the fear or the protection behind the choices people are making.

Today I choose to look beyond and find empathy for everyone around me.

We are all fighting battles. We are all trying to do what we believe is right.

Forgiveness is freeing and I am choosing to be free. 

Triggered

I. Was. So. Triggered. 

That seems to be the continuous phrase as of lately. 

Everything, from friends to food to religion to my goddamn scale, it's all triggering in its own uniquely shitty way. 

My friends have been patient but stern. "Wendy, you need to go back to therapy." But I was adamant for a while. I don't need to go back! I'm doing just fine! All I need is you and God and my children and I will be just fine. 

I will figure this transition out. 

But it isn't that simple. Because walking away from the culture I grew up with is scary. Maintaining relationships with people who have hurt me is scary. Eating and being too busy to exercise and realizing my clothes are tighter is scary scary scary. 

I haven't worn garments in almost six weeks. I have decided that I need a lot more time and depth in my questioning of the LDS faith. There are so many parts of me saying, This isn't right. This isn't where I'm supposed to be right now. It doesn't feel comfortable and peaceful. 

It feels like something I've always done because I've never really questioned it. 

How have I never really questioned it?

I didn't make an appointment with my therapist---my friend did it for me. And after it was done, I felt stupid. I felt like I should cancel because I am fine. Nothing major has happened. Nobody left, nobody betrayed me, blah blah blah...

But my excuses ran out as I remembered just how many things have been triggering me. 

And I remembered that I need this. That although I was trying to make excuses, I really should make a therapy appointment. 

So I'll go. And I won't go because someone wants me to. I'll go because I am trying to accept that it will be beneficial to be open about my huge life transitions right now. 

I started reading a book---an actual recovery book that focuses on recovery from eating disorders and cutting. I've read one chapter and I feel so connected to it. I feel like the author is speaking directly to me, about me, and for me. 

I hate this fight but I'm trying to do it. Honestly, I'm at a point where I don't want to, where I don't fully see the drawbacks of my choices. I'm at a point where I'm overweight and thinking that my eating disorder was the one thing helping me become a beautiful me. 

And then I wonder, did I betray the one thing that was helping me? Did I leave it behind last year instead of accepting it's help? Did I make the wrong choice? 

But everyone tells me that's the wrong voice to be listening to. They tell me Ed lies. And I try to believe them. I try to hold on as best I can. 

I try not to judge the person in the mirror but I really don't like her right now. 

I thought I was happy. I thought I was stronger than ever. But maybe I'm not. Maybe I never was. Maybe this was just a false sense of security that I developed during a time when things felt stable. 

I think the confusing part is that life feels pretty stable most of the time these days but then I get triggered and I realize I have not fully healed. 

I may be doing better. I may not see the pain from this past six months and crumble to the floor. In fact, I can clearly see so much positivity and growth that has occurred as a result of March 2015. B I'm also still in the middle of recovery. 

Maybe I always will be. Or maybe I won't. I don't have all of the answers.