The Grief Cycle

Never is an awfully long time.

I've been studying the stages of grief, not really for school but because I'm a nerd and like to read my textbooks if I feel like they can help me in certain situations.
And I thought that I had passed the stage of anger.
I really did.

I hit a breaking point a few weeks after my recent friendship d-day where I was angry. So effing angry.

But I was proud of myself. I did not allow my anger to burst out of me and poison the surrounding friendships we both shared. I did not gossip. I did not fight for my side to be told.
I got help.
I spoke about it in therapy. I spoke about it to my parents. I spoke about it with my best friend who does not know these other friends.
I didn't want relationships to be poisoned just because I was experiencing anger.

Ironically, that was not emulated on both sides.
My friendships were poisoned.
Regardless of what I had or hadn't done, I became very unpopular in a lot of people's eyes.

And maybe this is me trying to force my way through to acceptance. Because hell, I know I don't want to hit the depression phase. I'd rather just skip it.
But the acceptance isn't coming. The anger is raging. My mind is more clear now. I can look back and see what has transpired these past few months and I am angry that so many people left me. I am angry that I gave my heart to so many people who misused it.

I want to lash out. Oh heaven only knows how much I want to lash out.
Because it isn't fair.

Unintentional mistakes shouldn't turn you into a monster. And when they do, it hurts.
It hurts like fucking hell.

And it's worse than Peter's betrayal because frankly when he left me, I didn't trust him. He hurt me in so many ways but I already knew he was struggling and a bit crazy.

But when I gave my heart to friendships that I believed were firm and when I think back on all of the times I had strived to be an amazing friend, only to have it shatter into a million pieces, I cannot help but be so angry.

Angry that some of you chose to take a side when this wasn't even about our relationships. This had nothing to do with our support group.

Two people had an issue and for some reason, it turned a majority of my support group away from me.

How am I supposed to trust support groups anymore? How am I supposed to feel like I'm equally as worthy of support when THIS, this is what happens?

This is NOT what I envisioned a support group to look like. This is NOT what I envisioned my life would be like.

Shit isn't supposed to get harder in a support group.

But it can and it does.

Because among a group of hurting women who find themselves barely staying afloat most of the time, maybe support isn't healthy. Are we even healthy enough to support each other without going bat-shit-crazy if we feel like others aren't reciprocating?

That is my ginormous question of the day.

What the hell kind of support group deserts you when you need them most? And what the hell kind of extremely close friend decides that you are THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD after all of the things you've done for her?

You hear about this shit happening to other people but when it happens to you, the pain is almost unbearable.

I've never felt betrayal like this. Ever.

And that is saying something because I am divorced from a porn addict.

Goodbye, Old Life

Today my life is forever changed.

Today my life feels ruined. 

I don't know if I'll ever pick up the pieces from today. 

He Wants Me

A year ago, I wanted him. I wanted him to be the Peter I had married. I wanted him to come home and be the husband he promised me he would be.

And now I don't want him. I don't love him. In fact, the thought of being too physically close to him makes me want to vomit. It makes me uncomfortable.

When I think about taking Peter back, it is only something I consider when I'm feeling low and self conscious. It isn't something I actually want. I only consider it when the fear of never being loved consumes me.

In my last post, I spoke about how my daughter overheard Peter talking to his grandma about getting back together with me.
Tonight I spoke to Peter about this problem and how I'm angry that I had to be the "bad guy" again.

And instead of apologizing or even acting awkward about the conversation she repeated to me, Peter said, "Well, is it a possibility?"

No. It isn't a possibility.

I told Peter a thousand things would have to change for me to even consider it and his response was, "I know and I'm willing to work on that." He told me he has been going to counseling for his addiction.

And yay, right?!! I SHOULD BE SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOPS, RIGHT?

For years, I prayed for this. For years, I would cry and hope that there was some way I could help Peter find his way back. I wanted him to know he is a child of God. I wanted him to have the drive to provide for our family. I wanted him to be respectful and compassionate toward me. I wanted to be his number one.

But that was then and this is now. And now I can't even think about bringing Peter back into my life.

I think of all the pain he's caused me and I can't do that all over again! I cannot picture a beautiful life with him in it. Because no matter how beautiful it gets, it will contain the ugly defects of the past year.

Peter said he's proud of me because I seem so confident and like I'm moving on. And the thing is, it makes me angry that he wants me because I seem to be doing fine without him. And him "working on his shit for me" isn't a good enough reason. He should want to work on his shit because HE wants to be a better person. If he does it for me or for someone else, it isn't going to last.

I was shaking when I walked away from his car. I told my sisters and they rolled their eyes and gave me the response I needed in that moment (thank the frickin heavens!). I texted Alice and reminded me that Peter wants me back because he realized what he gave up. This isn't something I have to decide yes or no on. He is the one who gave up. This is NOT my problem.

I needed those reminders. Because the second Peter asked me that short-but-not-simple question, I started to get anxiety that if I turned him down, the divorce would be my fault because I wasn't willing to take him back when he got his crap together.

I keep having urges to text Peter and ask him what he will work on, if he's willing to go back to church, and if he would go to counseling with me, BUT I DON'T WANT TO! I don't want to be in counseling with my ex husband. I don't want to find out what things he's willing to do.

I don't want to be in a relationship with him!

And tonight, I feel so scared and worried that I'm making this decision to irrationally. Why? Why am I so scared that this decision is wrong? Why am I even being put in a place where I have to consider any of this?

Wouldn't this be better for our kids? And wouldn't I have the support I want and possibly be able to stay home with my kids again? Aren't those things worth being married to Peter?

The short answer is no. They are not worth my failed marriaged to Peter. They are not worth any more heartache or lies or secrecy.

We will be just fine without him.

I will be just fine without him.

So who wants to send me reminders of that every day so I can actually begin to believe it?

Another Week

Peter, please, are you serious? You can't help out with them again this week? That is so frustrating for me. I need a break. I can't do this. 

I'm sorry. I have no choice. I can't help you. I wish I could. I know I made these mistakes and I have to live with that forever and I'm sorry they're affecting you like this but I don't know what else to do. I have to work.

This was a blip of the conversation we had tonight. Another week. Another week with no help. Another week of needing babysitters and putting kids to bed by myself and doing homework late at night and working.

He knew I was upset. I told him I am exhausted. He apologized and it felt real. I felt like he was genuinely sorry. But that didn't stop me from feeling anger toward him because had he not made the shitty decisions that he did, I wouldn't be going to work three days a week and doing bedtime on my own.

I started crying as soon as I handed the phone off to the kids so they could say goodnight to their dad. My son looked over at me and then announced to his dad that I was crying and I heard Peter ask him to hand the phone back to me but I refused to take it. He doesn't get to hear me cry. He doesn't get to hear an emotion that is extremely vulnerable for me.

An hour later, I'm still crying. I'm still trying to figure out what days I need babysitters this week and how I'm going to get through another exhausting week of work and school and motherhood. I'm trying to tell myself I can do this but I'm screaming on the inside for someone to rescue me.

I love my kids. I love them so much and I would do anything for them. I just feel so stretched thin that I don't feel like I can be the mother that they need. The deal with this divorce was that he HELPS with the kids and ever since he left for Utah and then came back, it doesn't seem like he's been helping enough. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff and I'm trying to figure out what to do next.

Peter just sent me this text right now: I'm sorry. For many reasons, and I didn't mean to make you cry. I wish for nothing more than your forgiveness for everything I put you through.

And I haven't responded because I don't even know what to say.

I'm trying to forgive. I'm trying to let all of my pain go. But all I really want to do is run away. I want to run away to a place where divorce and pornography and fears don't exist.

I'm so tired tonight. I feel like I'm falling apart and I can't do this. I can't be divorced and keep going. I just can't. This isn't what I wanted my life to look like.

I'm torn between my anger toward Peter and my gratitude that he recognizes and took a little bit of responsibility for the actions he has chosen tonight.

I hate being so confused.

I told Peter I didn't sign up to raise two children on my own when I gave birth to them. I told him I didn't choose to be single and work and go to school and still have all of the same mothering responsibilities I had when we were married. I told him I am hanging on by a thread and that I need his help.

But nothing helped. It's not like he could've said he would take off work so that I could get a break.

I said what I wanted to say to him. I'm glad he understood me tonight. I'm glad he recognized that he has put me through hell and that I am trying to pick up a thousand broken pieces and that after a year, I still have about 950 pieces to go.

But none of that changes the fact that I'm exhausted and stressed out and I just want this to be over.

Alone

Tonight I am alone. I am here in my house with no one else; no kids, no friends, and no spouse. I feel an emptiness that I don't experience very often because quite honestly, my friends have been incredible 'Wendy Builders'. They do more than their share to build me up.

But as it is, tonight I am alone.

Most of my friends are on date nights. As I see the pictures on Facebook, my heart hurts a little because I don't have that. I don't know if I'll ever have that again. And I can't expect my friends to drop their husbands for me. That isn't fair.

I have no one tonight. There is no one I can call to come over and laugh with me. I need to get used to that but tonight it hurts. Tonight it feels so incredibly painful. I miss the really good parts of marriage. There were times when I had that. There were times when I didn't feel alone. I'm thankful so many of my friends are able to experience that---it just gets hard for me because I don't really have many single friends. All of my close friends are married. 

I hate that I'm alone. I've always hated being alone. I wish it was easy for me to relax when my kids are gone but it's hard to have a quiet house and have no plans. It's hard to feel like an outcast among some of the people I am closest to.

Things with Peter have just gotten progressively worse the past few days. If you want to know the truth of my inner thoughts, I've considered reverting to my alcohol days because I want to erase the pain I feel. I hate being angry with Pan but I am. I can't stand him. And although I shouldn't have to deal with him often, I do. We have kids. They need both of us. We are supposed to communicate.

But communicating is the opposite of what we are doing. Peter has mixed up pick-up times on three different occasions this week and then when I wasn't home or we weren't ready for him, he got angry with me. I know I told him the right times but he sure as hell believes that I am crazy and I get reprimanded because of the mistakes that I didnt actually make.

I just hate this phase of life right now. I hate the pain I've been feeling. I hate being lonely. I hate my anger. I hate that I'm even considering making stupid decisions because what the hell? These are the types of things Peter does to deal with stuff---and I don't want to be like Peter.

I want to follow the guidelines of my church that I believe so strongly in. I want to be a good example for my kids and keep my brain healthy so that I can take care of them. I want to be the best me---not revert to a worse me than ever before. That is NOT the goal right now.

But I'm drowning. Nothing is saving me right now.  Nothing has worked to get me out of this funk I've been in since Peter's return.

Did this really all happen just because Peter returned? Does he really have that much power over me? Ick. I hate the thought of that.

Apparently, I hate a lot of things tonight.

Mostly, among these jumbled up words, I just feel like saying how much I want to give up. I feel so hopeless toward recovery and feeling better about myself. I hate my eating disorder---but when I am this low, it is the only thing that I turn to. I don't like admitting that but it's the truth and I want this blog to be full of truths.

Tonight I am lonely and there's not much anyone can do. I don't need much, really. I just need to sit in this low spot for a while and hope that someday I'll be strong enough to pull myself out of it. I just need to get to a point where I'm closer to succeeding than I am to giving up. And if I never get there, I guess there is always the hope that this life isn't the end and my Heavenly Father will be there to wrap me in His arms when I've done all I could do.

Will there be a day where I don't feel like giving up as much as I do right now? Will there be a day when the encouraging words I hear from others actually sticks and I actually believe it? Because I never do. I never trust that what they're saying really, truly applies to me. That kind of advice is for strong, brave warriors. I am not that. I am nothing. I am a drowning woman who was left by the one person who should've stuck by her side. I wasn't good enough for seven whole years. I wasn't appreciated. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't anything enough.

I don't think I'll ever be enough.

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

Twenty-Seven Days

I stare at the same bed, in the same room, in the same house. It was once ours.
Ours.
What does that mean to me now? What does any of it mean?
I am 27 days from my d-day anniversary. Twenty-seven days from the day my life would forever change. Twenty-seven days from my worst fears becoming my new reality.
Things have been extremely hard. I can feel that anniversary looming over me like a constant dark cloud. I have been on the verge of tears for five days now but they have yet to be released. I cannot release them. I cannot give in to the tears or the heartache because I'm worried I will completely fall apart.
But I'm already falling apart. I am already on the verge of another breakdown. I am already shutting down and giving up and worrying and obsessing. My OCD is getting the best of me. My eating disorder is getting the best of me. My heartache is getting the best of me.
It all hurts. Everything hurts today. Everything feels so real and painful.

Twenty-seven days until the anniversary of the day Peter said I was not good enough. Twenty-seven days from the day Peter looked me in the eye and told me he didn't love me anymore. I don't care if he was lying or not---it is a dagger to my heart and I cannot forget that pain. I cannot forget what it felt like to have my eternal partner look me in the eyes and tell me he didn't love me. The only other thing I have engrained in my memory from that day was right after the "I don't love you anymore." He looked at me and said, "I don't care about you anymore, Wendy.". He no longer cared. The person who promised he would always care no longer cared.

So when other people promise me they will never leave or that they will always care, how am I supposed to believe them? How am I supposed to feel like I can trust anyone or get close to anyone again?

I am a mess when it comes to letting people get close. I am a mess when I believe people are annoyed or don't love me or have found someone better. I hope now you'll understand why. I hope you can see why I act needy and annoying and afraid of abandonment.

I am a broken woman still. I thought a year could make a difference. I thought I would be OVER THIS MESS but I am not. I am still weak. I don't feel like a warrior. I feel like an overweight, obnoxious, and heartbroken woman. I feel traumatized. I feel worthless. I feel like my children would be better off raised by someone who actually plays with them and doesn't yell. I feel like every guy I could potentially like is off-limits because I am not good enough for any of them.

I wonder if I'll get to a point where I am good enough. I wonder what that would look like. Hell, I wonder what not having an eating disorder would look like. I wonder what not being divorced would look like.

I wonder what not being me would look like---because it seems like it might look better than this.

Twenty-seven days will go by quickly and soon, I will have to face the anniversary of the worst day of my life. And yet, it already feels like I'm facing it. It already feels so close and so painful and so fresh.
I can't stand it today. I can't stand the thought of where I was and where I am. I can't see hope today. I wish I could erase all of the pain and fear from my life but today, I can't. I'm not strong enough to overcome this fear.

When Answered Prayers Dont Make Sense

When Peter left me, I fixated on how this was my fault. I was a stupid 18/19 year old girl who made stupid decisions and ignored stupid red flags. I was simply stupid.

I would tell my therapist this every week. Why couldn't I have chosen differently? Why couldn't I have asked him more questions? Why couldn't I have known better than to marry an addict? And she would always tell me, "Wendy, you need to forgive yourself for not knowing then what you know now."

Deep down, I knew that. I knew there was no way I could've known better. I was young and in love. And the most confusing part of all of this was that I prayed about whether I was supposed to marry Pan and I received very strong Spiritual answers that he was to be my husband. So young and stupid or not, I had done what I thought was the best decision for my life.

This made me angry for a while after filing for divorce. Why the hell would it be right to marry this psycho addict who had hurt me so deeply? Why would I receive an answer to prayer to marry this man?

And I've come to a few conclusions.

I received an answer to prayer to marry Pan because it was right to marry Pan.

Peter had free agency and could do with that whatever he wanted. He could choose to leave me, even if it was right to marry me.

I think that's something I've always had a hard time with and something my Heavenly Father is trying to teach me through trials. Sometimes Satan's plan of control looks really appealing to me. I like having control in my life and free agency just kind of freaks me out because nothing is certain!

Satan's plan probably would've made it so I'd still be married but I wouldn't have the intelligence that I have or the trust in God and I'd probably be more confused as to what my purpose on earth is.

No matter how easy Satan's plan would be, easy doesn't make it good.

I still have sincere faith that I received an answer to prayer 8 years ago that I was supposed to marry Peter Pan for time and all eternity. I look back and when I think about the promptings and feelings I had, I don't blame myself for the choices I made---because they were still right.

It all ended kind of sucky but that's ok. I have learned to be ok with free agency for others because I wouldn't want to trade my own free agency for anything. I love having the opportunity to learn and grow and find out who I am and why I'm here.

Divorce isn't as scary as I thought it would be. From the outside looking in, divorce kind of looked like a death sentence. It was something I feared since the beginning of my marriage when things got hard. It was this dark cloud that loomed over me when Peter walked out on us and left me to decide if I was going to file the actual paperwork while he pranced around like a teenage boy.

But divorce isn't the end. Divorce has taught me that I can have new beginnings any time I want. I can wake up any day and decide to start something new. I can make things happen in my life. I can put a genuine smile on my face.
And from the outside looking in, people might be confused that I'm "dealing" with this so well and it's ok that they don't know what I've been through and what I'm going through. It's ok that they don't see the dark nights and that they think I'm super strong and amazing all of the time. This isn't me being fake.

I really am happy today.

So today, I'll smile.

I Choose NOT to Give Up

I stare at that quote a lot. I question it a lot. Because I often do feel like I give up on myself. When I listen to the lies of my eating disorder, isn't that giving up? It sure does feel like it.

The day Peter told me about his pornography addiction felt like a normal day. I didn't ever cry. I didn't really freak out. In fact, other than texting a few close friends to tell them about it, I did nothing. But the next day, I started getting chest pains every few hours. I'd be driving and I wouldn't even realize I was thinking about his addiction but all of a sudden, I'd feel short of breath and my chest would hurt. I was having small anxiety attacks multiple times a day but I brushed it off because, well, I do that!

A few days after that started, I began to convince myself that I am a hard person to love. I started pulling away from my faithful friends who have been there from day one and I started overly obsessing over my new friendships from The Togetherness Project. I told myself that only the Togetherness people could love this "new me" because they had all been where I was and on days when my new friends weren't available, I sunk really far into myself and was even more convinced that people have a hard time loving me. I didn't realize it consciously at first but I was pulling away from my two best friends and slowly shutting them out of my life.

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until last week, when a third friend mentioned that my friends were feeling abandoned and hurt by me. I had done the very thing I was so afraid of people doing to me. My immediate reaction was panic and guilt. How could I have done this? I am a horrible friend. I was afraid of contacting them and in most situations, I would've just given up because I don't like any type of confrontation. I stewed over it for a day before realizing that the person in my head telling me I was a burden to my friends is a liar. I was choosing to listen to Satan and he wanted me to abandon the supportive people in my life.

So I broke free. I apologized. I cried. I did things that are hard for me to do because my friends are worth it.
My friends are worth it.
My friends were the shoulders I cried on the night Peter left me. My friends were the people who showed up when I was crying over how much I had started hating myself. My friends were the first people (besides a therapist) that I told about my eating disorder starting to consume me once again. My friends have taken my children countless times and cleaned my house and had me over for dinner and let me hang out when I was feeling lonely on weekends without my kids. My friends have been there through all of this. They never abandoned me.

Satan wanted me to worry about them abandoning me and so I started to abandon them slowly to detach from the pain I thought would be coming in the future.

Although I was feeling panic and guilt about this last week, my heart feels lighter today as I think about the apologetic conversations I have had with my friends over the weekend. I treated them poorly and they allowed me to come back. I made the wrong choices and they gave me the opportunity to start making it right.

My friends mean everything to me. My faithful friends and my new friends are some of the biggest blessings in my life and I am so grateful that I am surrounded by all of them. But I owe so much of my blessed experience to my two very best friends. I am so glad they love me. I am so glad they want to help me. Today, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be friends with my friends.

I've learned from this experience that I am not going to give up on myself. If other people stick with me through some really stupid decisions, I feel like I can stick with myself too. This journey has been so hard and it will continue to be hard but I am not going to give up. Because "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly."

Neverending

Trust him, they said. It will be different this time, they said. You need to give him the benefit of the doubt, they said.

But they were wrong.

Because I trusted him when I shouldn't have and he hurt me. I learned to love him through my pain and he stuck a knife in my heart.

I don't agree with advice. I don't agree with telling people how they should or shouldn't feel because everyone is different. Finding out about my ex husband's pornography addiction could be equal to a person losing their job or a person losing their spouse. Because we are unique individuals, the way we deal with trials is different. If I tell you I am hurting and that I'm not healed yet, you need to take my word for it instead of comparing me to someone else with a similiar trial.

I am my own person.

Yes, I was divorced when I found out about the pornography addiction. Yes, I don't have to see the man that hurt me so badly every day. I don't even have to interact with him daily. But he hurt me. I still have a brain that has a damn memory in it and when I replay old memories, I hurt. I ache. I don't like to think about what might have been fake.

I used to think people shouldn't be angry after a while. I used to think they should learn to get over their problems on my time frame---because my time frame must be bible. But I've seen real pain. I've seen real anger. I've also felt these emotions in my own life. And not a single person gets to tell me how or when I should get over these things.

Life really sucks sometimes.

I feel my eating disorder like a constant rain cloud. Although I've done better at fighting him, Ed isn't much smaller than he was a few weeks ago. He is still just as loud. I still question him daily. And I feel like I have no one who I trust enough to be an available support in my life. I wonder if that's because I actually don't have someone or if I just often feel alone because my spouse is gone.

My freaking spouse is gone.
Damn divorce.

I trusted someone that screwed me over. For years, he screwed me over. For years, he lied and made me feel like an effing crazy person. And as soon as I had started to heal and accept this as my life forever, he left.

He left at the worst possible time. He left when it would hurt me the most. I cannot think of any other time in our marriage where it woud've hurt more than it did when he chose to leave. I was happy. I was truly happy. I had accepted all of this. I had learned so much about myself. And then he left.

I hate manipulation. When I hear about husbands manipulating their wives, I want to scream and then punch their husbands in the junk. Seriously. Because manipulation is the worst. Manipulation is the perfect way to make a person feel bat-shit crazy when the manipulator is the real monster of the situation. As the manipulatee, you start to feel like you are the one who is wrong and you question yourself.

I used to question myself daily. I used to wonder why the guy who "loved" me so freaking much was the same guy who hated so many things about me. I used to wonder why I couldn't live up to his expectations.

And my eating disorder tells me I should keep questioning myself. My eating disorder tells me that I should settle for another douche husband because douches are the only ones who will take me "as is". But oh my gosh, I am not going to settle!

Because damnit, I deserve better than a porn addict, lying, ass face of a husband. I deserve someone who can look at me and see the good and accept the bad. I deserve someone who supports instead of manipulates.

We all deserve that.

And some of us don't get it. Some of us have to live with manipulation and lies and unsettling amounts of fear. Some of us have to wonder what life will feel like at the end of the day when our husbands walk through that front door.

And it isn't fair.

But life isn't fair, right?

Tonight I pray for you. I pray for my friends who are stuck in situations that seem hell bent and neverending. I pray for those of you who feel weak and unloved. I pray for those of you who question why you stay.
I love you and I am rooting for you.

Screwed Over

So maybe it wasn't truly planned. Maybe Peter didn't intentionally take my heart and expect he'd end up punching it time and time again.

But surely I can tell you I was screwed over.
Screwed over by pornography.
Screwed over by addictions.
Screwed over by lies.
Screwed over by Peter.

I understand addiction. I get that he was scared. What I don't get is why leaving me was better than telling me. Peter can tell me ALL he wants how this wasn't about me but he left me. He didn't leave pornography. He left me.

Peter has a way of making me feel all better again---it's called manipulation. He can go from being an ass to being a gentlemen and back to an ass again. And every time I believe him, I hate myself. I hate that I am stupid enough to believe the lies. What the hell, Wendy? Get a backbone!

On Wednesday night, Peter looked our little girl straight in the face and promised he would be at her kindergarten graduation the next day and then he no-showed. No explanations. No apologies. Not even a lie of an excuse. Nothing. He just didn't show up.
I told everyone I would not be the mom crying at her graduation. I mean, it's kindergarten---big whoop. We kinda knew she was gonna make it through kindergarten. But as I saw her eyes anxiously searching the room for the one person she hoped to find, I got a little teared up and then I got angry.
Why does our little girl have to feel disappointment at this young age? Why does she have to experience the broken promises that I've experienced for six years?

Because not only was he my husband, he is her dad. And yesterday at kindergarten graduation, he screwed her over. He broke a promise that was really important to her.

Pornography screws everyone involved over. From the addict to the spouse to the children to the family to the friends---pornography harms people.

When Peter's addiction wasn't as bad, he was a wonderful dad. He wasn't as angry and he showed up. He was present for his kids. Even now, he tries to be there for them. He loves them. I can see it. But his addiction seems to come first. He can't always tell when he's screwing us all over. He didn't understand today when I told him his daughter was upset about him missing her graduation. He didn't get that his broken promise to her was more than just him being there to watch her sing a few songs. He had promised.

Have I mentioned Peter is moving to Utah...tomorrow? Yes, he's allowed to do this. He would only not be allowed if he had full custody of the kids. I'm still on the fence about this decision. A part of me wants him gone because he causes a lot of heartache for our family right now but a part of me wants him here because our kids want their dad.

He's running away and I hope it ends up doing some good instead of harm. He is missing his daughter's birthday party. He is giving up weekends that he fought for when we first filed for divorce. He is giving up time with the two people who look up to him so much right now. They want him and he is leaving.

But maybe it'll be good? I really am on the fence about this change.

In the meantime, I'm trying so hard to say "Screw you" right back to addiction. And to Peter. And to pornography.

I think I'll just focus on the fact that today is my daughter's birthday so the rest of our problems can suck it. We are going to celebrate today and we'll deal with this crap some other time.