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. 

Selfish

The thing is, you can’t fully trust that anyone will be loyal to you. I think that’s something I’ve learned as I still find myself struggling to fit in to my support groups without feeling this urge to take a huge leap backward.

I still find myself struggling to trust anyone. And I still question whether any of them trust me.

Although the messiest parts seemed to have passed, it isn’t magically over and fixed. I still find myself feeling traumatized and scared to move forward.

And maybe that’s because I had trusted that the messiest parts had passed last summer---and they hadn’t.

So I find myself pondering and learning from this and saying, “Well, Wendy, life is always going to be somewhat messy. You can’t control other people. All you can do is decide how you’re going to handle the messes.”

And that’s kind of what I’ve done.

Because a few weeks ago, I met with an old friend to talk about some of our past messes.

And I started out really optimistic.

And days later, I got extremely pessimistic.

And then I was more realistic.

And mixed in there were really great days and some more messy days.

And now I’m just here---back to mostly optimistic but making sure I’m also being realistic.

Or maybe I’m not optimistic. I don’t know right now.

Today I’m really confused.

Or maybe just sad.

Because I had these high levels of optimism that fixing this would fix other relationships and that we could just move on from here.

But that isn’t always how it works.

Because I don’t get to tell people how to feel or how to act or what to say.

And. That’s. Just. Life.

I was going to attend the Togetherness Project this next August, thinking it was what was best for me, but now I’m quite certain it isn’t.

I had convinced myself that I deserved to go, that I deserved to be there just as much as anyone else and I’ve realized that was my main reason for wanting to go.

And although I DO deserve to be there just as much as anyone else, I don’t need to go just to prove myself.

Because I’ve learned that people are going to hate me if they want to hate me. People are going to believe I’m a liar if they want to believe I’m a liar.

I can’t change any of that.

People can live their lives without trusting me pretty darn easily. That’s not the main problem.

The main problem is when I don’t trust myself because that is when I start to unravel.

When I trust in myself and have faith in myself, I don’t feel this urge to prove myself to the world.

And so, right now, that is what I am working on.

I’m sad about my decision because there are people I’ve wanted to see whom I truly love so deeply.

But today and tomorrow and the next day---I need to be a little more selfish and do what’s best for me. I need to learn to trust more and recover more and worry about the outside stuff less.

I need to save me before I can save anyone else. 

Face To Face

Finally. 

Face to face. 

It only took fourteen months. 

Fourteen months of hurtful comments and hateful looks. 

I took a trusted friend with me because I knew I needed someone to actually process and hear everything while my anxiety did it's work. 

And when we walked up to her, I felt this waive of relief that we were finally face to face after so long. 

And maybe I felt like I had missed her. 

Three hours of each of us explaining our side and trying to get the other person to understand. 

It felt like a divorce mediation. 

She said some things that later I realized were hurtful to me as I thought over them. And I think she knew that. 

I didn't need to know details. But because she had been hurt living through it all, she wanted me to know all of that pain. 

And the reason it was unnecessary is because the whole point of this meeting was supposed to be about moving forward and about telling her how ONLY in hindsight could I have prevented everything. 

The whole point was to convince her I wasn't ever malicious. 

She already knew that though. I know she did. Because she knows me---or at least she knew me. 

I am a completely different person after going through everything I've experienced these past fourteen months. 

So we met. 

And afterward, she asked if I wanted to keep talking and let my friend go home. Maybe her and I could go grab some lunch? 

But I said no. I wasn't ready for that yet. Or maybe ever. 

And when we got in the car to go home, my friend set me straight. 

She is still blaming you. 

What she said was manipulative. 

That felt fake. 

Don't go home and blame yourself all over again. 

And I was surprised because I felt so good. 

But my friend was right. 

Because later that night, I started to panic about all of those details. 

She had gotten to me again. 

Whether consciously or subconsciously, she had said things in a way that made me wonder if this was all my fault. 

Was I really to blame? 

Somewhere deep down, did I know what I was doing? 

And as I pondered these questions and allowed myself to go back to that dark place for a minute, I suddenly remembered back to those days and weeks. And I remembered my heart and how I did everything right in the moment---the best I knew how. 

I told the truth. And although that truth brought about more pain for a while, it was still the truth. 

And in that moment, I knew that meeting did not have the power to put our relationship back where it had been fifteen months ago. 

And I didn't want it to go back. 

Because I remembered how all of this hurt my family and made it so that I could not safely talk about my own children's pain and healing. 

I had been stifled because I had been blamed by someone who should've trusted me---who should've answered when I tried to call dozens of times---who should've come over to my house to talk face to face when everything happened---who should've trusted me instead of turning me into a villain. 

I was never able to talk about my own children being hurt because the times that I tried to, I received nasty comments about how this was all my fault anyway. 

 And I suddenly questioned how any of those people would've known the part about my own children. Because I had only told one person from their group. 

And so when months later, a comment was made on Facebook that said, "How sad that you are dealing with that on top of your son being molested", how did that person know? 

And I suddenly realized that the betrayal went much further than I had thought. I kept quiet about what had happened, not knowing that a large group of people were spreading around the fact that my son had been involved. 

My family was not kept safe in all of this. 

And none of them really seemed to care about that fact. Nobody stood up and said, "No matter the circumstances, we should NOT be gossiping about her children." 

Nobody did that for us.

So yes, we met face to face. And maybe it helped in little ways. 

But it will never be the same. Because the protection of my family is far more important than gaining a friend back who wasn't really a friend anyway. 

And I have so many people in my life who are capable of trusting me through really shitty times. 

So I'm glad it's over. And I will continue to move on and heal each and every day. 

**************

PS: My children are bravely and beautifully doing well. They are warriors. And they are my greatest teachers. And I may never mention their part in this again. Or I might if it feels right. But I hope if you read this, you will respect the privacy of my children in all of this. 

But I Miss Her

It's hard to explain and even to understand the feelings I've been having lately.

Mostly it is heartache. Mostly it is pain.

I saw her for the first time in six weeks on Friday. The last time I saw her was the day before this whole mess started.
She didn't see me. She was picking her kids up early from school and I was in the carpool lane waiting for my daughter to get out of school. I saw her walking to her car and I could hardly breathe. The anxiety I felt was almost unbearable. I was sweating and panicking.

I don't know what I was afraid of---that she'd start a scene in front of the school or that if she saw me, she would ignore me. Either one would've been painful. Either one would've hurt unimaginably.

A part of me wanted her to see me and smile, letting me know she was healing and moving on, but I knew that probably wouldn't have been the case. I knew it would've hurt to have her see me.

Living seven minutes away from someone you are trying to avoid is messy. I'm surprised that this was the first time I'd seen her in six weeks. At the same time, realizing it had been six weeks brought back so much of the pain.
It's been six weeks since I lost a lot of friendships and supporters, six weeks since I decided fighting my eating disorder wasn't worth it, six weeks since I was close to committing suicide.
In a lot of ways, it feels like it's been longer---years, even. But in a lot of ways, it seems like she and I were best friends just yesterday.

I wish it were easy to just forget her and move on. I wish the pain was gone and that I could fully believe that it's better having her out of my life. Deep down, I believe it. Deep down, I know that if she could give up on me so quickly and not come and talk to me before talking horribly behind my back to so many others, I am better off without her in my life. On the surface, that all makes sense to me. I shouldn't want her in my life if she doesn't want me in hers---but there is a part of me that is still struggling to accept that the things she has said to me these past six weeks really happened. I want to believe that somewhere within her soul, she knows who I am, but it's hard when she has told me a lot of hurtful things.

On top of that stuff or maybe just going along with it, I've been struggling to feel like I'm adequate these days. I feel like I'm accomplishing huge things---school, work, mom life---but I'm just waiting for it all to fall apart. I feel like I am trapped, like I'm listening to these voices inside my head that tell me I'll never amount to anything.

And Peter...yeah, Peter. I feel like he is getting a little too emotionally attached to me lately. I don't know, maybe I'm overreacting. I get really tired of the games. I get tired of feeling like he wants me and then he thinks I'm a horrible mother and then he wants me and then he thinks all I ever do is remind him he owes me money and then he wants me again. It. Is. Exhausting.

In fact, everything is exhausting right now. Everything. My brain seems to always be in hyperdrive. My anxiety is always looming. THIS IS NOT LIVING, PEOPLE! It's just not dying.

But tonight, it's all I've got. Tonight, I am trying to focus on the small things like the fact that I was accepted to the college I wanted to go to and that I've been keeping up on my housework without a cleaning lady (who I was blessed to have for the past 8 months).

I am capable. I am going to get through all of this. Just not tonight.

The Haters

The very first time I came across this Brene Brown quote, I fell in love with it. I remember thinking it applied to Peter and his family and the way I was being portrayed in our divorce---as the cold, unloving wife who left her husband because he had lost his belief in God. They had no idea what he had put me through or what life was like in our home. And more importantly than that, for a while they didn't know HE was the one to leave ME.

He conveniently left out that detail and they didn't find out until right before our divorce was final and I told his dad during our divorce settlement meeting. {Fun times...}

I digress...

A lot of people have hurt me in my life and unfortunately, I've come to fear it and expect it. That doesn't make it hurt any less and the problem with that is that it takes a lot out of me to keep my relationships genuine. It is so freaking exhausting sometimes.

Tonight I was reading through the first few months of writing in this blog {I started it a year ago this month!} and I came across some words that I wrote that have fit perfectly with where I'm at right now.

"Today my writing taught me something I hope to never forget---I cannot rely on the actions of other people to determine my life. I am fighting against the urge to hate Peter. I am fighting against the urge to swear at him and post nasty things about him all over the internet. I am fighting the urge to lay in bed all night and cry. I am not a hater. And I am not going to become something that I'm not just because someone hurt my heart."

That last sentenced pierced my heart tonight because it is exactly what I've been trying to remind myself of all week. When she turned on me, I didn't gossip about her. In fact, I was still worried about her.

I still am.

And when she came at me a week later with more hurtful words, I stood up to her but I didn't gossip about her. I didn't run to our mutual friends and tell them how horrible she is. I didn't try to get people on "my side".

Sadly, she did. Her support system was most of our mutual friends and as she started believing and saying horrible things about me, she was saying those things to them and almost all of them stopped contacting me.

This hurt me a lot to realize.

I wish our mutual friends would displace their shock with questioning. I wish any one of them would've come and asked me for my side of the story. But they didn't. She's told them too many things about the type of person that I am for them to hear me out.

I've lost so many friends in the past few weeks.

But I have not hated on her. I have not written nasty things about her or tried to build up my own gang to counteract her allies. That isn't who I am. And I refuse to become someone that I am not just because someone hurt my heart.

It's as simple as that.

So many times, I've wish I could yell at her and our other friends who have believed her. I wish I could tell them how hurt I am but I don't think it would make a difference.

This is genuinely me. I am trying to trust that tonight. I am trying to believe that I am a good person and counteract the voice in my head that tells me I am innately selfish and horrible.

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. 

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. 

Forgiveness

I keep feeling like it is time to forgive Peter.

I don't know why this is so hard for me to face.

I've always known that I have the power to forgive him. I've always known I'd be here someday. For a while, I even thought I had forgiven him.

But every time I really think about letting all of the hurt go, I choke up and my body wells up with anger.

Because HE DID ALL OF THESE HORRIBLE THINGS TO ME! He is the reason I work and miss my kids every other holiday. He is the reason I am alone. He is the reason I feel betrayed and am afraid to ever trust again.

I've placed all of the blame in our failed marriage on Peter. This came easy for me because, duh, what the hell did I do?! I didn't walk out on him. I had never lied to him before. I wasn't looking at pornography or drinking alcohol behind his back. But I've realized that by focusing on all of this being Peter's fault, I allow myself to judge him and that isn't my job. My job is to work on forgiving him.

I will never know all of the details. And as much as I've been curious as to how bad Peter's addictions were/are, I don't think I'd really want to know all of the details anyway.

I was talking to my sister yesterday about what had happened on Sunday and she brought up the point that Peter would have to be fully honest with me if he ever wanted to come back. Well what happens if I can't handle the honesty? What happens if I allowed him to come back and started from square one again and then I heard all of his confessions and I couldn't handle them? Because there is a possibility that whatever transparency Peter would give me would be too hurtful and would bring up more hurt than I've already experienced.

It just wouldn't work.

And the fact that I've lived through a year of divorce makes me not want to go back to that marriage ever again. I've already endured all of the heartache of my marriage ending---I will not choose to go back into that marriage and possibly end up with the same outcome when Peter's shit hits the roof again someday, which just seems likely to happen in my untrusting mind.

But I am working to get to a point where I forgive Peter and let go of the past. Because it is over and I'm not going to get it back.
All of the hurt I've been through has made me the Wendy that I am today. Without my divorce, I wouldn't have this blog and I wouldn't all of the new friends I've made this year. Without this divorce, I wouldn't know how independent I'm capable of being. Without this divorce, I wouldn't know how much of a fighter I really am.

Without this divorce, I wouldn't be going to Utah this weekend to attend The Togetherness Project. It is amazing to look at all of the beauty that has happened due to some really horrible choices.

Tonight I wouldn't change any of it. There are so many days I want to change my circumstances but tonight, I am just grateful to be alive and the have the strength and the knowledge that I have.

As much as I hate trials, tonight I can vividly see how much stronger I am because of the things God has allowed to happen in my life and for that, I am grateful.

Forgiving Peter is possible. It won't be easy but it is definitely possible.

Everyone deserves forgiveness.