Peter Got Married---I Got A Lawyer

I went private for months.
I shut this down because I wanted to erase all of the things I've ever written.

I wanted another fresh start.

And I tried to walk away.

When Peter started dating Tiger Lily, I lost myself. I tried to imagine life with her in it. Permanently. And then on Easter, he asked her to marry him with the help of our children.

And I stayed afloat for the kids but inside, I was dying.

I was asked to write a letter to the First Presidency for his temple clearance and got physically ill. And then I sat down every night for two weeks and wrote. Eventually I finished it and sent it to Peter's bishop.

And I thought that would be the hardest thing I'd do this whole year.

But 2017 has decided to be a bitch and slap me across the face a few more times.

And right before Peter got married, I was served papers stating that he was fighting for 50/50 custody because his new wife could help him raise our kids. His new wife. Peter has a new wife. And now they want to take my kids 50% of the time after I've poured myself into raising them full time while he did whatever the hell he's wanted for four years. So now that he's "settled down", he has time for them?

Needless to say, this summer has been hell.

I've tortured myself with "what if's" every single day. I've gone back on anxiety medication because I can hardly withstand the anxiety attacks that have ensued.

I've been present more with my kids, not knowing how much time I have left to be their full time momma.

And I hired a lawyer.

I know 50/50 custody isn't the worst thing in the entire world. I know life will go on if this happens. I understand there are harder things than this.

But for me, this is devastating---not only because Peter has been so uninvolved and apathetic toward our children in the past but because I have poured myself into them so much.

Motherhood is the best part of my life. The very best part. And I am so incredibly close to my kids.

And because of that, I just cannot imagine only seeing them every other week of their lives.

Please pray for our family. 

Please.

Parenting Alone

I never thought our divorced relationship would be this way.

I always envision us working together for the good of our family, striving to do what is best for the kids.

But this is nothing like that vision in my head.

I ask Peter to help out extra days or nights and most of the time, he's "too busy". He currently sees the kids 5 days a month and he is too busy to take any extra time with them.

Having his girlfriend around has only aggravated this problem. He chooses her over the kids constantly. He ignores them for long periods of time but then when he wants to pay attention to them, they run straight back into his arms because he is their dad and they want his approval.

But from the outside looking in, it's hard on me to just sit back and watch as he manipulates them left and right. It's hard to see how hard they take it when he doesn't show up and how happy they get when it's finally time to see him again.

It's one of the worst things to witness as a mother because their emotions are being played with constantly.

I resent Peter for the time he spends away from them. I resent him when he says he can't help me tag team a Saturday where one kid has dance and the other has a basketball game at the exact same time.

When I chose to become a parent, I did not sign up to do it alone. But here I am, doing it alone most of the time.

I'm so angry with Peter. So, so angry. And I just needed to get that out tonight.

Going Back

I haven’t talked about this for a really long time on here.

How the LDS church was my home growing up. How that changed after my divorce. How I went through a period of confusion and eventually left last year.

And now.

How I spoke to God and He told me it’s time to go back.

That was three weeks ago. And since then, my life has changed so much.

I changed how I dress.

I took out my nose ring and my extra earrings.

I poured out the bottle of alcohol that had been sitting in my fridge for months.

I had a few meetings with my bishop.

My daughter set a date to be baptized in just TWO short weeks (she’s 8 and a half).

And my bishop told me he wants to see me this Sunday for a temple recommend interview.

Before that appointment, I was having a hard time deciphering what I wanted and how quickly I wanted to make these changes but deep down, I knew.

Because when he told me we should set a goal of getting a temple recommend for the new year, I immediately began to cry happy tears.

And as I was looking back on the last few weeks, something hit me pretty strongly that this was all for a purpose and that the timing is exactly what it should’ve been.

I had struggled with the new bishop that was called to preside over our ward last summer. He wasn’t the reason I left but I was really struggling to have faith and trust in him.

Well ironically enough, the week before God told me to go back, our ward was split and that bishop no longer presided over my area.

And this new bishop that they’ve called is gentle and sensitive. He seems so REAL and genuine. I felt really comfortable talking to him about this past year and everything I’ve been through. 

But mixed in with the peace I feel are serious bouts of anxiety.
Because I had reasons for leaving. 
Reasons that doubted the existence of the Priesthood.
Reasons based on my childhood in the church and some unfortunate experiences.
Reasons that have felt very valid for me.

And I was happy attending my new non-denominational Christian church.
So happy.
I had met amazing people, learned new things about Christianity, and enjoyed worshiping each Sunday.

And then I thought back to my breaking point---the point where I tried so hard to hold on to everything I had known and believed before I couldn't hold on any longer.
Because the last time I was a devout member of the church was before an entirely huge d-day that had me so angry at God for a very long time.
And although I didn't leave the church right away and I didn't leave as a direct result of those events, that breaking point spiraled a lot of doubts and feelings inside of me about the type of person I want to be and the type of God I wanted to believe in.

I have healed so much from that heartache but it still comes back sometimes. 

Three weeks ago, it came back full force when having a conversation with my daughter.
Because when I say that I'm not fully healed, it is because my children aren't fully healed. It is because I experienced the trauma not only as a friend but as a mother.

And I have never really talked about that or worked through it because I was so busy dealing with all of the outside heartache.
For me, speaking about the things my kids have gone through is so deeply personal to me that I keep those things in my physical journals. And they are things only their father and I know. And they are heartbreaking and hard to deal with as a parent.

And I don't quite know why I equate my religious affiliations with those horrible memories but right now, that's kind of what's been happening.
Because I don't want to turn back into who I was back then.
And I'm trying so hard to change that.
I'm trying so hard not to go back to that place I was once in because the truth is, God didn't do any of this to my family. He is not the reason bad things have happened.

If anything, He is the ONLY reason I am able to get out of bed each day. 

These are big changes and they're going to take me some time to get myself adjusted.

The majority of my feelings have been peaceful, even though it probably doesn't sound that way.
My doubts and anxieties are small but because they exist, I am working on keeping them small so they don't grow.

I have faith that God gave me this answer and that this is the next step in my life.

I'm scared.
But feeling positive. 

The Other Woman

I spent Thanksgiving without my kids this year. It went better than most of the other holidays I've spent without my kids and I'd like to think that means I'm healing and getting more used to sharing my children part of the time.

It felt good until my kids got home and my daughter said, "We got to spend Thanksgiving with dad's new girlfriend! She's the best! I love her so much. She says she will paint my nails and do my hair. She is my best friend."

In that moment, it felt anything but good. 

I could barely catch my breath. 

Wait a minute, Peter has a serious girlfriend and she spent a five day holiday weekend with my kids?

It felt like the world was spinning around me but I wasn't able to move or speak or even blink my eyes. I tried so hard not to lose it in front of them.

But it's been six days since then and I've lost it every night. I've cried myself to sleep every single night. I've had panic attacks every single day.

It's hard to even explain my reasoning for reacting this way. 

Peter said he hated being married and I always expected him not to get into another relationship, at least not for a very long time.
I was the one who wanted to date right away. I was the one who still believed in relationships and marriage.
And now Peter gets to have that. Peter has 26 nights a month that he could spend with his girlfriend but he is choosing to spend the ONLY 4 nights a month that he has our kids with his girlfriend too.
You'd think that'd be a good thing but last night, the kids told me that they had to go in the basement and watch movies so dad could have alone time with his girlfriend.

And then there's my eating disorder. I'm an overeating, purging mess over here because I'm just not handling this news well at all.
My thoughts turned to, "Is she skinnier and more beautiful than me? Did he find someone with a model-like body that hasn't been covered in stretch marks from pregnancy?" 

Today I met her. 
I was only given six days of knowing he had a girlfriend before I met her.
Because she was at my daughter's dance recital tonight.
And while there, my son ignored me and snuggled on her lap. My boy. My cuddly, momma's boy. He refused to sit with anybody besides her.
And while there, my daughter gave her a short hug and she said, "Really, that's all I get is a one-handed hug? I feel so unloved!" in a joking voice that grated on my last nerve because she's known my daughter for like four days now.

And I should be happy that my kids love her. But it hurts so much right now. 

It hurts so much. 

I want to write it all down, all of the pain and sadness I'm feeling, but honestly, I don't have the energy because it's all being used just to function these days.

All I can think about is how they're together and I'm here all alone, struggling to find worth within myself and raising two children who are beautiful and hard and amazing and active.

And because he only has to be their dad 4 days a month, he gets to date and have time for another adult and have physical and emotional connection.

It really, truly hurts. 

And I'm just not dealing with it well. 

It hurts that he can treat me as horribly as he does while treating another woman like she's the most important person in the world.

That used to be me. I used to be the most important person in the world to him. I used to be the one who would lay on his shoulder while we would listen to music late at night on the couch. I used to be his everything.

And although I don't want him back, it tears my heart to know that he---the man who left our family and hurt all of us so much---gets to have the very thing I've wanted for a long time.

I'm so angry that he is in a relationship and that I'm not. I'm so angry that he gets to ignore his kids the majority of the time but then they prefer him over me if we're all together. I'm so angry that my kids think she might be "their new mom".

He's already taken so much from me. He has already ruined so much. 

WHY is this even happening the way that it is? Am I really that horrible of a person that I cannot find a boyfriend? Am I really that horrible of a mother that my kids prefer their dad, the guy who is emotionally abusive to them, over me?

It all just feels like too much right now, like I'm never going to get past this phase of heartache.

It Hurts

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

The majority of the reactions included:

It was bound to happen eventually.

Good for him. He’s moving on.

You had to know this was going to happen.

So why are you acting so upset?

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

They say it shouldn’t hurt because it isn’t happening to them, because the person they loved for 8 years wasn’t now in a relationship with another woman.

They say it shouldn’t hurt because they didn’t feel the hurt I felt when he walked away.

They say it shouldn’t hurt because they haven’t gone three years fighting extremely lonely thoughts and struggling to learn how to find a relationship worth trusting and then finding out that he gets to have the very thing they have wanted.

They say it shouldn’t hurt because they don’t see the day-to-day life of ‘single mom pouring her life into her children’ while he has 25 days a month to be a bachelor.

They say it shouldn’t hurt---but they are wrong.

Because it should hurt and it does.

I didn’t know how I would react when this eventually happened. Honestly, I think I figured it would be me in a relationship first so I wouldn’t react as poorly as I have.

My daughter got in the car on Sunday and almost immediately stated, “Guess what? We might be getting a new mom because I saw dad kissing a girl out on the front porch.”

And I should’ve handled it better. The tears that started pouring down my face surprised even me. And then my sweet baby girl felt like she had done something wrong. And I felt like a complete mom-failure. I should’ve been able to keep it together for her sake.

But. It. Just. Felt. So. Horrible.

So. Horrible.

So shockingly, devastatingly, painfully horrible.

And all of my feelings of loneliness were intensified.

I can usually keep them together but not this week.

This week, the tears seem to pour out of the corners of my eyes with the tiniest little thing.

And although yesterday was horrible because I was extremely sick and threw up 7 effing times, I think I needed that day in my bed, to hide from life a little bit. Because now that I’m back living life again today, I’m trying to deal with it a little better.

And it is extremely difficult.

And really, that is all I have today. Because my beautiful life is clouded right now by some really shitty feelings. 

I Hate Today

It's just that I hated today in so many ways.

This whole weekend, actually. 

And I keep letting dumb shit get in the way of my happiness.

I'm frustrated and anxious and possibly depressed and trying to fight but not really fighting at all.

I hate August. 
I hate change.
I hate so many of my shifting relationships right now. 
And I hate how the old ones changed and were ruined and have left me with a deep pit of anxiety that seems to bleed on the new relationships.

Relationships suck sometimes. 
People suck sometimes. 

And some days I just feel like there's no one who understands me.
Like my situation is too unique and the things I've gone through have intertwined too many elements for anyone to understand exactly how I'm feeling.

Some days, I'm still angry about the past 18 months of my life. Or maybe the past 3 years. Or maybe the past 28 years.

Some days, I am angry that I'm alone and that my support group shifted so drastically and that the majority of my closest friends are in seemingly 'easy' relationships with comfortable lives.

People don't understand. And if I try to explain it, it's not going to come out right.
Because sometimes, even when people are trying to be kind, they end up being hurtful.
Like that time last week when my sister said that I should be grateful because there are some easier things about being a single mom of older {as in 'non-baby' age} kids. And I just felt pissed and hurt and totally invalidated.

Because although I do it every day of my life right now {mostly because I literally don't have another choice unless I want to just give up---which I don't}, being a single mom is not an easy thing. Even without the work and school and other things, being a single mom would still be hard.

I would give up the every other weekend breaks for having a partner who was here at night.

So I hate today. And I really hope I don't wake up hating tomorrow.

But I've decided to let these feelings sit and not to fight them off.

It's ok that I hate today. That doesn't make me a bad person and it doesn't make me ungrateful.

Three Years

The odd thing is that I thought this was going to be the 4 year anniversary.

I don’t know why I was adding an extra year on there. Probably because it feels like I’ve been on my own for much longer than three years.

I knew August was creeping up on me. I could feel it even without looking at a calendar.

There’s just something about August, about school starting and schedules changing.

And the night before school, I’m lying in bed and praying for my kids and thinking about another year alone.

Another year where I go to parent-teacher conferences and schedule extra meetings to make sure my son with ADHD is getting the schooling he needs alone.

Another year where I help with homework and book reports and reciting poems alone.

The irony is that Peter left me just 3 weeks into our oldest child’s Kindergarten year so I’ve never really known what it’d feel like to have a spouse more involved with those school activities.

So I don’t know why it always hits me hard in August.

I’ve been doing this all alone since the very beginning.

But this anniversary always hits me the hardest---because it is my D-day. Three years ago, I was in a relationship and since then, I haven’t been.

In fact, I can count on ONE hand the number of dates I’ve been on in the past three years.

I’ve tried. I’ve done the online dating thing a few times and it’ll seem to be working for a week or two and then all of a sudden, one guy will ruin it for the rest by texting me something dirty or I’ll read the profile of a guy who says extremely provocative things in his bio and I take ten thousand steps back and think to myself, “Oh my gosh, being single forever would be better than this!”

Because at least if I’m single, I won’t be getting my heart hurt by the extremely douchey guys that seem to exist in this world.

Another thing that really triggers me about online dating is the fact that 90% of the profiles say they’re interested in someone “slim and slender” or “athletic and toned”. And any time I see that on a profile, I feel like I’m reminded of why I’m single.

And then I have a hard time not listening to ED because it seems like he’s telling me the truth.

It’s just one big ball of frustrations and disappointments and there are days I consider just getting back together with Peter because, you know, he still loves me and maybe he is the only guy who ever will---because am I even loveable? 

I realize how irrational this is. 
Or maybe I don't. 
But I want to realize how irrational this is. 

It's just that dating with an eating disorder is not easy.
I'm pretty sure dating in general isn't easy either though.

So I tell myself most days that I'm ok being alone because, most days, I am.

But some days, it just hits me that it's been 3 years since I've been in a relationship and had another adult living in this home with me.

August is a messy month for so many reasons. 
Six years ago, tomorrow, I was diagnosed with infertility.
Four years ago this month, Peter left the church we were both attending and I felt so scared.
Three years ago this month, Peter walked out on me.
Two years ago this month, I had to stop being a stay-at-home mom and went back to work.
Last year this month, I was dealing with some after shocks of some traumatic events earlier that year. I also started telling others that I was questioning my faith and wanted to attend a Christian church.

August is my messy month and every year, I brace myself for what is to come.

And this year, I found myself quitting my job recently and dealing with some after shock and anxiety from that.

I'm not doing well right now. I'm hanging in there because I know it will get better but I've not been handling life well.

Because my body just senses the unsafety of August and every day feels unsure. 

Thankfully, I've got my tribe of people who are patient with me while I struggle through the shittyness of August.

Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully.