Hope

I think my body must've known it'd been three years, even though my brain didn't know until a memory popped up on Facebook. 

The anxiety I've felt all weekend has been pretty severe---chest pains, numbing, considering giving up on everything I've worked for. 

I couldn't figure out why I felt that way. Was it a money issue? A friend issue? A parenting issue? A divorce issue? 

I still don't quite know. 

But what I do know is that yesterday marked three years since my deepest heartbreak as a single mom. 

So maybe that played a part. 

When I realized this, I thought back on the past three years and all of the changes and healing that have taken place. 

I lost support. 

I left the church. 

I cut a lot of ties. 

I made new, genuine friendships. 

I came back to church. 

And I realized just how seldom I think about that day anymore. 

A portion of the past three years was spent being kicked down, building myself back up, only to be kicked down again. 

But I've learned how to better dodge those kicks. 

You guys, the remarkable thing is that I'm grateful for everything I've been taught in the past three years. I'm grateful for my time away from my church and the time I've spent back there. I'm grateful for a God who very promptly put healing tools in place when I felt like suicide was the only way to break free from my heartache. I'm grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and the ability He gave me to forgive myself for "hindsight" and also the ability He gave me to forgive others for the pain they caused. 

I don't know if that is why my body is feeling so much anxiety right now and I hate that. I hate how anxiety since the court trial has become hard to identify. It comes and goes fiercely, often times without explanation or warning. 

But I know it won't always be this way. I know the effects of the court trial won't last forever, just as the pain and anxiety of three years ago eventually dissipated. 

So at least there is hope. 

My Character

When someone tries to defame your character, you are left with a few different choices. And the thing is, a lot of the choices seem scary and messy.

You can cower down and lose confidence. You can put your trust in the accuser and wonder whether you are really, truly a bad person. 

Or you can do nothing. You can ignore it and live your life, cutting that person out to keep yourself safe from future hurt.

Or you can fight. You can become pissed off and possibly go bat-shit crazy on the person. You can attack their character right back. You can try and hurt them how they've hurt you.

Or...

Or you can fight for YOURSELF. This is different than fighting with the person. You can stand up for yourself when you are attacked and you can prove the person wrong. You can live your life, showing the world your character. You can have compassion for the persons anger and set boundaries that keep you from further harm as much as possible. 

And if you pick the fourth choice, which in most situations I would recommend, you will find who you're real friends are. 

They are the people who hear horrible things about you and question them. They are the people who come and ask you for your side, even if they don't agree with you in the end. They listen and they don't attack you. They don't believe things about you just because someone told them to. 

This is where I'm at right now. A lot of days, I struggle with trusting anyone---because I trusted her with all of my vulnerability. All of it. The deep stuff. The messy stuff. The happy stuff. I was transparent and I still got hurt so deeply. 

So it's hard to feel like I can trust any of my friendships to be genuine. But I'm doing it. I'm fighting for myself and part of that is continuing to trust the people in my life who have supported me. 

Because this trial is not going to ruin me. I won't let it. 

Yes, it has changed me. It has made a lot of things feel horrible and it has left me with a great amount of fear. And fear is hard for me because I live every day with an anxiety disorder that sometimes takes control. 

But ever since that day a month ago, I have worked. And that's all I can do. It doesn't matter that it still feels so scary and messy. It doesn't matter that I'm often afraid or feel anger. Because I'm trying. I'm trying a little bit each day. 

I'm trying to build a relationship with God because I'm putting my faith in the Spirit and it's ability to help me discern safety. 

I can't forget the power of the Spirit and the help my God gave me that day or in the weeks since. I've been so angry with Him but He didn't leave when I yelled. In fact, He surrounded me with extra comfort when I yelled and blamed and asked why. He loves me unconditionally. 

I know I can trust in that.

And I refuse to let this ruin my trust in the people who genuinely love me and support me. I refuse. 

Because I am a good person. I know I did everything I could in the best way I knew how at the time. 

Yes, in hindsight, I'd change a lot of things but that wasn't possible at the time...because I didn't know any of this back then. 

Say Something

For years and years, I was screaming on the inside, "SAY SOMETHING, PETER! SOMETHING! ANYTHING! Tell me how you REALLY feel. Tell me what you want me to do!" as he made decisions that ultimately destroyed our marriage.

I didn't always understand those inner thoughts. I wondered why I was such a controlling, paranoid wife, thinking my husband was lying all the time when he promised he wasn't.

And when Peter left me and A Great Big World came out with the song, Say Something, every word spoke true to the things I was feeling.

"You're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye. Say something, I'm giving up on you!"

The very first time I heard that song, I was a few weeks out from d-day and I wasn't sure what was going to happen. That song came on the radio and I started to cry as each word came closer and closer to the pain in my heart.

A few days later, my sister called and said, "Wendy! Have you heard the new song Say Something? I was bawling in the car thinking about your heartache right now and I felt like you could've been singing every single one of those words." And she was right. Every word was my story.

"Anywhere I would've followed you. Say something, I'm giving up on you!"

After years of wanting him to say how he feels to me and getting nothing in return, I wasn't sure how divorce would change that. I wasn't sure about the levels of communication and how we would both deal with the new boundaries that had to be set.

And at first, it was a mess. I tried to let Peter be a part of our family, even though we had filed for divorce. We went on hikes, we watched movies late at night...and one night, we had sex. There are days I'm still in disbelief about that because it was all so...awkward...and I felt like a whore. So it was after that night that I knew I needed changes for the safety of my heart.

Boundaries.

I started reading the book Boundaries that was recommended to me by my eating disorder therapist. I recognized some traits in the beginning of the book that were DEFINITELY me.

I was so sick of fighting that I decided to allow Peter back into my life more than was healthy for ME. I was making those decisions for the well being of our children and for his well being but in the process, I ended up more confused and hurt.

Ever since I talked to Peter about the boundaries I needed to set, there has been a frustration about him that I didn't fully understand. I knew he had changed when he left me. He seemed darker and less of the man I had married. But this was different. Peter was angry at me for taking away his kids and his opportunity to have the best of both worlds.

His anger has changed him into someone I don't recognize.

Tonight, Peter told me he wouldn't be able to contribute to our son's preschool bill for a month or two and I started to walk away in frustration and he exclaimed, "Calm the fuck down, Wendy!"

In front of my four year old.

Oh hell no.

My anger was at a boiling point but there was nothing I could do because I am about to head out of town and Peter has the kids by himself for four days.

On top of that, I started working this week and school started two weeks ago. I am now leaving that precious four year old FIVE days a week.

This is just a mess. All of the shit going on is a mess. I feel so much guilt and shame. I feel so much weight on me to be this perfect mother and this perfect friend and this perfect daughter and I JUST CAN'T DO IT! I cannot please everyone. But that won't stop me from trying.

Last night, I had a melt down. Like a scream-into-my-pillow-yelling-swear-words melt down. And I wrote in my journal how sometimes I feel like dying would be easier than all of this.

And that is the damn truth. I cannot even tell you how often in the past year I've layed in bed shaking from the fear of being responsible for two little children and myself all on my own. There isn't anything to describe what this feels like to me. It is just a whole bunch of hell and the responsibility feels like it's too much sometimes.

I couldn't even tell my counselor today how I wrote that sentence in my journal because even THINKING about dying makes me feel shame...because I would never truthfully kill myself or even want to die and ruin my children's lives more.

But when I get so buried in fear and shame, I can't think of anything else that would release my pain.

Please tell me this gets better. Tell me I will find hope and that I won't always hate myself and that I will be able to afford to take care of my kids on my own and that I will stop feeling so anxious about life.
Please?

Because I just can't keep having break downs and feeling so scared for the future. I can't keep doubting myself and wondering if things will ever get better.

I just can't.

But I'm so afraid to feel and give emotion to my pain because I don't believe it will ever go away if I let it out. I feel like being strong and COURAGEOUS means to keep myself in check at all times and never let my emotions run free. I cry sometimes but ONLY when I'm alone and I always shame myself for being weak and out of control.

I'm so afraid of what my pain really feels like.


Since music is therapy, I recorded Say Something for you tonight. And with that, I am off on an adventure with my friends for four days. Please pray that my kids won't miss me too much and that I'll be able to relax and trust that they're in good hands.

Resenting his move, resenting his return

I'm just so damn angry. Ever since Pan moved back to the same general area as us, I cannot stand him.

I seriously cannot stand him!

Everything he does and says is stupid and his face is stupid and his actions are stupid. I am usually a more reasonable person but for some reason, I cannot stand to be in the same room as him!

I'm confused about this because I don't remember being this angry with him the last time he lived here...as in, three months ago. I think I feel a resentment toward him for moving because he left so quickly. I feel like he doesn't really accept his responsibility to our children like I do. He takes them "often"---as in, every other weekend and a night or two a week except he only saw them TWICE the whole time he had lived in another state...which broke his promise of coming home every other wekeend. But he's a hero, right? He should be able to make equal parenting decisions, right?

I know that's the way it is supposed to work. I know he is supposed to be able to tell me his opinion on babysitters and discipline and everything in between but because I feel like he abandoned us for a few months and left his responsibilities behind, he shouldn't have the right to come back and act like NOTHING HAS CHANGED!

Because while he was gone, I did everything on my own! I didn't have a break consistently. I made decisions for our kids, took them where they needed to go, and got babysitters when I was ready for the looney bin. I did it all. On. My. Own.

We had a routine. I was used to being their sole caregiver. I was used to the decisions. But I was excited when he decided to move back because I'd have some weekends and weeknights free again.

But Pan has come back and everytime I've seen him, I've wanted to punch him in the face. I can't stand the sight of him, let alone his voice. He says the dumbest, most controlling things. He reprimands me for decisions I've made regarding our kids. I got a babysitter for 45 minutes instead of calling him and he got angry because "that's not on the parenting plan". Everytime he has come to get the kids, he walks through the front door and perches himself on the couch or at the kitchen table while I try to rush the kids out the door. I don't WANT to hang out with him. I don't WANT to have a friendship right now.

So yesterday, I talked to him about it. I asked him to keep his distance and when he gets the kids, to stay outside and wait for me to send them out.

And as you can guess, he got offended...because "Why can't we be friends? Why am I so mean? Why am I so angry? Why?!" and I didn't give him a response. He doesn't deserve a response right now. He just needs to keep my boundaries or shit is gonna go down. People are gonna get crazy---and by people, I mean me---and by crazy, I mean eat a bucket of chocolate ice cream and throw shoes at the wall.

So I hope Pan can stick to the boundaries and shut his face the rest of the time. I hope he can try to understand that I cannot always do things exactly how he wants them done because he chose to leave me and I no longer have to listen to him. I can parent however the hell I want!

And I'm sorry I had a friend's husband watch my kids while I went to dinner. I did not have time {literally} to drop them off to him at his residence twenty minutes away because I had a meeting immediately after dinner at my home. I had to have my kids close by for the sake of that meeting happening on time.

So...
GAH! Go away, Pan! Better yet, stay close by but keep your mouth shut more often!!!

And stop calling me every 3 hours to ask a ridiculous question "about our children". Because even though it's not technically breaking a boundary, it kind of is in the sneakiest way possible.

Get the hell out of my life but make sure you still take the kids every other weekend because I sincerely need a break. I love them but I need a break.

Sincerely,
The-burnt-out-but-otherwise-awesome-Wendy

Sensitive

I know, this is a redundant picture. I've used it before.

Tonight, I really just want to forget everybody. I want to forget all of the hurt and the pain and the awkwardness and the crap that comes with being an overly sensitive person.

And when I say overly sensitive---I quite literally mean that. OVERLY.

It's stupid, actually. Being overly sensitive is a weakness of mine and my goodness gracious, I do not like feeling weak. So sensitivity is a sensitive subject for me (ha!).

I'm trying to fight the urge to get my feelings hurt and talk myself through some really tough situations that I'm faced with. This is a huge step for me since I usually shut down when I'm faced with tough situations.

Ok, to be honest, I'm kind of shutting down. Maybe a little bit. But not to the same degree that I used to.
Baby steps, friends, baby steps...
I'm just trying to be more rational and sometimes that means letting myself feel the hurt and the anger for a while and acknowledging that this is who I am. I am a sensitive person. My feelings get hurt when I feel like people don't want me in their life. My feelings get hurt when I feel like people want others in their life more than me. My feelings get hurt by some pretty insignificant things.

I'm sensitive. I'm trying to be ok with that. And when I'm not ok with that, I am just trying not to shut down.

But I get it now. I get why my fight with Ed has become so much harder again. I get how much my eating disorder relates to any pain I feel in my life. When I feel insignificant, I work hard to prove that I am not. When I feel like people will abandon me, I work hard to prove that I am good enough.

The problem is that "good enough = skinny enough" in my mind. And I know my friends don't care about that but Ed tells me they secretly care, that everyone secretly feels like I'm worthless and stupid and sensitive and obnoxious.

This week, the "obnoxious" is my biggest fear and I don't feel any sense of worth because I am loud and obnoxious and I want to be subdued and never make mistakes. I don't want to feel stupid for being me. I don't want to be a screw-up.

I really want things to not bother me so much. I want to be confident and love myself and be an amazing friend.

I'm just so effing angry with myself tonight. I tried to write an uplifting post on my regular blog and it all felt so fake and stupid and I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie and act like I was feeling inspired tonight---because tonight, I feel anything but inspired. I feel anything but incredible. I feel anything but brave.

Maybe I'll get over it tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll be trying really hard to forget my pain and pretend that I am strong and that things don't ever bother me.

Because that just seems like the only way to feel ok tonight.

PS: Pan moved back...so there's that. Maybe that's why I feel like shit. No, I don't think it is but it sure has been "FUN" seeing him a few extra times in the past few days. Yay...not.

PPS: I need counseling. I'm drowning and I need counseling. And the only counselor I want to see is my old counselor, which is weird since I struggled with that for a while. I just don't know anymore. I really just don't know what I want.

Results of "The Meeting"

Was it a small step?

It didn't feel like it. It felt big. It felt like one of the biggest steps towards my recovery.

We walked in with a game plan---set boundaries so everyone feels safe. It sounds simple but it felt so complicated in my mind.

They stared at me. Alice stared at me. For a while, I just stared back. I had no idea how to start any of this. But somehow, I did it. Somewhere among my jumbled up, nonsensical phrases came feelings and sentences that I had been trying to say.

And when I stumbled, Alice stepped in.

There were pros and cons, good feelings and bad feelings. I left feeling unsure but I'm trying to just have faith.

They did the exact opposite of what I was expecting. They wanted no boundaries, no check-in's, and they wanted to trust that I'll come to them if I need them.

This should feel good, right?

And yet, this is how I felt in high school---like they just didn't get the seriousness. I left feeling like maybe they didn't understand.

But I am trying to trust that they do. I'm trying to trust that this is them caring.

Although the meeting started out awkward and had a few other awkward moments, it was mostly good. I felt like my parents were listening to me. My mom told me I'm her hero. My dad apologized for thinking Pan was the one keeping our marriage together. My dad really thought that Pan was the one that saved me...would it be inappropriate to laugh right here? I got to say a lot of things that I've been feeling for months, some of them even years.

So there were pros, a lot of pros.

I guess I was just left feeling like, "That was it?". Nothing major happened. No major boundaries were set. And I'm trying to decide where that leaves me in recovery. I feel like I'm in this weird limbo of trying to get better but not having the resources. My counselor can't see me weekly until June 3rd and I am trying to do this on my own but it feels so overwhelming.

That's addiction for you. It takes over when you feel like you're in control. It causes you to hear things in your head that aren't really true. But you have the damndest time not believing them because they feel real.

I feel like what my head tells me is true. I look in the mirror and it feels true. I walk down the street and it feels true. I think about dating and it feels true.

Tonight, dinner at my parents' house was just weird---because it wasn't weird. Are you still with me? It was weird knowing my parents know something major is happening in my life and yet we can't talk about it because my sisters are all around and I have decided I don't feel good about telling them yet. They will freak out, that is for sure. And it was weird having food on my plate and thinking about what was probably in my parents' heads. Because obviously, I wasn't refusing to eat. I'm sure they thought about whether I'd keep the food down. I'm sure they wondered if I was overreacting about this "eating disorder" because I look fine and I'm eating and I'm overweight. My dad actually asked me in our meeting if anyone had given me an "eating disorder" diagnosis. Uhh...yeah? And even if the answer is no, I can assure you that is what this is. He also asked me some questions about weightloss that I felt weird about but I was probably reading into those questions a little bit too much.

I read into a lot of things way too much.

I'm feeling good tonight. Focusing on the truths I believe and trying to weed out the lies that I need to start defying.

I can do this. As much as my head tells me I'll never overcome this, I can defeat this.  

Nerves

I know I have already written today but I can't NOT write these things down.

Today is the day. After my confession to my parents on Tuesday night, I am having a meeting with them tonight---in two hours.

Two hours.

My heart beats faster every time I look at the clock and realize it is that much closer to the time where I will sit down and talk with them about my boundaries and their boundaries with this whole eating disorder mess.

Alice will be there. I need her there. I'm so nervous about this whole thing. I couldn't have done any of it without her.

I'm nervous about boundaries. I'm nervous that they will try and hover. I'm also nervous I won't be able to accept reasonable boundaries because I've had such a hard time letting them in to these parts of my life. I think that's one of the main reasons Alice is coming. I need her to tell me what I'm being unreasonable about and what is actually them asking too much.

So my chest is tight. My heart is racing. I feel sick to my stomach.

But I'm doing this. I'm doing this hard thing because I've made it through many other hard things and my track record so far is pretty good.

I'm doing this because I need to be stronger.

I'm doing this because I love my family and I do really want them in my life.

I'm doing this because I want to kick my eating disorder in the stomach and say, "Screw you!" I want my inner voice to be louder than ed's voice. I want to listen to truths instead of lies.

So I'm doing this.

But in the meantime, say a prayer that my nerves will calm the frick down.

Peter Pan is Our Story

I always thought so too.

I dreamed of forever with my Peter Pan. I was his Wendy and instead of growing old with me, he returned to Neverland to keep from growing up. This is the significance of me choosing Peter Pan as our story. Peter Pan is our story. I am Wendy and my Peter Pan has left to Neverland.

When I decided to use this story as my background, the word Neverland really stood out to me. This land that Peter Pan is trying to find is a land where his family won't be. It is Neverland; a land full of boys who don't want to grow up, a land where evil and sadness are lurking at every corner, a land of trickery. I used to pray that Peter would wake up from his distorted reality and realize that the happiness he once experienced with me and with our children would be enough.
But it was never enough and he searched for Neverland, trying to find the happiness he was missing.

Divorce brings a lot of mess into a relationship. With children, there will always be a relationship and trying to work together on specific parenting issues can be hard.

Saturday was one of those messy days were Peter was trying really hard to manipulate me. In his addict brain, he was making sense. In his addict brain, I was in the wrong. In his addict brain, he was being held back by me.

Peter had made a commitment to have our kids for the weekend and when his plans suddenly changed and I wasn't available to take the kids back early, he was angry.

You guys, I need to confess something.
On Saturday, I said the F word---out loud---in front of some friends.
Because usually I stand at the edge and wait out the storm but this particular storm caused me to jump off the edge.
Sometimes ex-husbands are idiots. And almost ALL of the time, addict ex-husbands are idiots.
Sometimes addict ex-husbands gaslight the hell out of you and tell you that you are the manipulator, that you aren't a good person, and that you are selfish.
Sometimes it's hard not to believe what addict ex-husbands say, even though you know the words aren't true.
So sometimes you end up walking into a room full of friends and the door is really hard to shut and you yell the F word at the door.

THIS IS NORMAL, PEOPLE!!! It has to be normal. Right? Someone tell me I'm not crazy!

So there I was, trying to concentrate on the things I was doing while receiving manipulative, angry messages from Peter. I was angry and shaking because I have a hard time when someone bashes my character. I'm glad my friends who had witnessed the F word rant were there for advice giving and support because I made it through.

I made it through and the next day, when addict brain was turned off, Peter apologized for his behavior. This is how life with an addict is. Things go from being irrational to apologetic really quickly. Gaslighting is an ever present threat. Rationality is often out the window. Feelings get hurt on purpose so the addict doesn't have to reflect on their own feelings.

I think about my eating disorder and how that is an addiction and I wonder if I do that to other people. Do I gaslight? Am I irrational? Do I deflect on others to avoid my own feelings?
I think because my eating disorder is so inward and reflects the hate I have for my own body, the biggest possibility is that I gaslight and am irrational toward myself.
I'm choosing to do something I don't want to do and have an appointment with an eating disorder therapist on Thursday. I think I'll bring those questions up to her because I don't want to be hurting others. Hell, I don't want to be hurting myself but I certainly don't want to hurt anyone else.

I don't want to end up like the addict in my life who continues to hurt me, even after divorce. I don't want to do that to other people. Boundaries are lost on us because we will always have to talk about the kids and dealing with Peter Pan, even regarding the kids, when he is in addict mode is extremely hard to do.

I want to end up different and break the cycle of addiction. I want to be a better me. I also want to stop saying the F word over and over in my mind and having it slip out once in a while but I have to admit, sometimes the F word makes me feel better.

I want to overcome. I want to step away from the edge of the cliff and walk down the mountain to safety.
I am strong enough for this. Right?