So, I know it has been a long time. This summer was hard for me off and on. It was hard, to be honest, for both of us. Me-dealing with hurt and fear. Him-dealing with guilt and shame.
June 5th, 2009 was the day that I found out about his affair in the first place. That's the beginning of this blog. I was a little nervous about it as I felt June approach this year. But we were doing well so I tried to be positive. And I was. Until a few days later when I realized I went to the same places I went a year ago on that Friday. (Of course, since this is a year later, the day that was a Friday last year is a Saturday this year, you know what I mean...) I hadn't even meant to do it. You see, when Beloved told me about it that awful night we had gone to dinner (I had arranged for a sitter so we could go out and--I thought--reconnect, and maybe he'd tell me what had been bothering him. I had no idea that it was what it was) outside the mall and then, in the car, after dinner, he told me everything. And I said (very calmly, since I didn't cry at that time) I needed to use the bathroom, so we drove to Target, across the way, so I could use the bathroom. I remember walking into that bathroom as quickly as I could, but still retain some sense of calm. Once inside I couldn't hold it in anymore and started to cry. I called my bff 'Gretchen' and then my big sis Sam. I cried and cried. And it was close to closing time, so when some worker came in to check the bathroom she hugged me and held me for just a little while. I don't even remember what she looked like, but I am so thankful for a kind stranger that day.
Anyway, about this year (HELLO! Sorry about the sidetrack, there!). My daughters S and E wanted to have a girl's night out. I thought that was a great idea and so we went out. Guess where they wanted to go? To eat at the mall and then to Target. Weird, huh? And we were there almost to closing that night, too.
I thought about it later, once I realized it, and I thought it might have been a good thing. Maybe I needed to go see if there are any ghosts of the past there, you know? And I felt o.k.
But the next day I did not. That is to say, on Saturday morning I woke up and I felt sick. And my head hurt. And I felt weird because I felt discontented but didn't know why, because Beloved and I had been so very connected of late. All morning it bothered me. I kept wondering why I felt like this. And then I remembered something I had read a few months back. Something about our body's cellular memory. That sometimes we wake up feeling a certain way that doesn't make sense, but that it is because on the same day in our past we felt that way and our cells remember it and react to it. Weird, huh?
Then July came. And I went away for work (I started with a direct-selling business--NEVER thought I'd do that, but I fell in love with the product and couldn't resist) and I was a mess for the week leading up to it. Why? Because I was going to the exact same place he had gone to be with her on the 25th of July. The story is here, if you remember. See, in that post I say "L.A.", but in reality it was Newport Beach. And where did I find myself headed on the 15th of July? Newport Beach. Now, I realize that the 15th is 10 days away from the 25th. But for me it was terribly difficult and emotional. I was so filled with anger and hurt and, just, so many emotions, that I couldn't prepare for the trip. Beloved had to help me pack, had to talk me into going, remind me of why I was going in the first place, and that I would have my wonderful BFF and her family and my sis along with me, that it would be fun.
So I went. And it was fun. And it was good. And, though there were times when I felt like crying, it was great to have a reason to go out there and face those feelings, but have another purpose into which I could focus my energy.
And when I returned home he was a mess.
He couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about how I had felt in leaving and telling himself I would return to tell him I was sick of feeling like this, that I'd tell him he had to go.
He does this to himself a lot. And to be honest, there was one time, around Thanksgiving that I truly felt like God had better give me a reason to stay because I felt like I was finished with it all. But after that, when things are hard--and they do get hard. SO so hard. When things are hard I think about what a dear friend said to me: She said, "Gigi. What do you know for sure?" And I 'hem'ed and I 'haw'ed (I know that isn't spelled right, sorry!) and she reminded me of what I said when Beloved was gone. And that Heavenly Father told me to wait. And that Heavenly Father brought Beloved home. And that Heavenly Father knows waayy more than I do. And that I trust Him. So when things get hard, I remember that. And it helps me to keep things in perspective.
And my birthday came. And that day last year was miserable. Miserable: (adj) wretchedly unhappy. Don't get me wrong, I was with BFF in Utah and loved being near my neices and nephews whom I adore. But I had a foolish, ridiculously romantic notion that he would wake up and come back to me, call me or show up at BFF's home. I blush to write that. No, more than blush. Though I feel my cheeks heating up as I type. I am embarrassed and humiliated that I hoped for that. But it's the truth. I did. And I was miserable all day because I knew it wasn't going to happen, and couldn't keep myself from hoping that it would. I know. It's so stupid.
So this year I felt so sad all day. Like I was mourning--something. My romantic notion? My foolishness? I don't know. I tried not to let it show. I did things--don't ask me what, I can't remember now--to keep us all busy. Us all, being the kids and myself, since Beloved had to work that day, but had a 3 day weekend after it, so I didn't mind. And it allowed me the privacy that I wanted. Perhaps I was a little indulgent.
Then August came. And it was our anniversary. You remember, the infamous anniversary post and comments, don't you? Poor Red. Love ya, Red! No hard feelings, right?! Huh? And this day was hard for me. Because I remembered where things were then last year. And then the two trips he made out to be with Shannon right after that. And how he came to me a few days after our anniversary last year and said that he had thought about me all day on our anniversary but didn't call, because, 'what was there to say?'
And now here we are to September. And the 25th will be the Anniversary of Beloved's return. We have come a long way.
Beloved is struggling with his feelings of worthlessness. To go against all that he once stood for, and to do it so fully, well, it just doesn't leave him feeling great about himself. I mean, I think anyone can understand that.
And I have my ups and downs.
I have written a few posts but not actually published them. I think I'll get to that.
Anniversaries have just been on my mind for the past few months, and I am taking advantage of a quiet evening to write these things down.
Gigi.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
So, enough already....and then maybe not.
So, I have a confession to make.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm fat.
Sooo
so fat. **This is not to say that people who may be bigger than me should feel worse or any of that stuff. Cuz I've been bigger than I am now. This isn't about you. This is about me. And how I feel about my body right now. I'm just sayin'...**
I have gained 30 pounds in the last 4 months.
That's a lot. I know.
At first when I started to gain I told myself that it was because Beloved and I were celebrating. We ate sweets while snuggling on the couch after the kids went to bed, and ate out often after he came home. But, see, I didn't gain more than 5 lbs from September to December.
I gained it all after that. So technically it is 35 lbs. Yikes.
I gained it quickly. So quickly. Mainly because, though I say it has been four months, I have maintained at this weight for a month. So, really it is 30 lbs in 3 months.
OK. So why am I talking about weight on a blog about infidelity? For a couple of reasons. But the main one is the only one I'll address right now:
I've been swallowing my emotions.
I found they go down easier with a bite of anything I can find in the kitchen and a swig of Dr. Pepper. Or water. I'm not picky. Although the Dr. Pepper sure does taste good...Mmmm....Dr. Pepper. (that was my little homage to Homer Simpson and doughnuts--which are about the only things I haven't eaten in the last few months.)
I thought I was ready to come back to blogging. But it has been a struggle. How much do I tell about my 'getting over it' process? Where is the fine line between too much said and just enough to get my head on straight again? And then there has been the whole 'time' issue. It seems like my days are going faster right now. And depression. There has been some of that, too. Though, to be honest with you, I just call it 'not feeling well'. And it doesn't last long.
Usually once we go and talk things out with Dr. F I feel better. But I have a hard time talking about things with Beloved at home. I feel like with Dr. F it is safer, somehow. I mean that if he becomes distraught over something that hurt me, she can talk him through it. If I start to feel like a pathetic little porcupine--all prickly and hard on the outside but just lonely and sad on the inside she talks me out of it, or helps him to get me out of it.
I feel like we are learning the skills we need, but it is remembering them when the time comes that we struggle with. And, let's face it, how many of us in our everyday conversations with our spouses say, "I need to talk to you about something. Is now a good time? Can you mirror me?" Which, by the way, really does help a lot. But I seem to miss my own warning signs that tell me I am starting to struggle with some memory or emotion. I tend not to catch it until I am close to boiling over. I need to pay better attention.
This week I started watching what I eat. Again. And I decided I wouldn't eat when I was upset. Or lonely. Or bored. Or sad. Or angry. Or any of that other shtuff. But here is the problem:
I was a witch. And moody. Becuase I took away the thing that I was self-medicating with, and I didn't have any other option. I was working out, but that didn't seem to help. I hoped it would. I thought, "I'm trading emotionally eating for working out." It seemed like an even trade in my mind. Not so much.
And Beloved and I had a rough week. All of those emotions stated above and all the others I wrestle with just rose to the surface this week. Added to this was the concern I felt over Beloved starting a new job on Monday. I had to act like I was fine because if he knows I am upset it just messes with his self-esteem and he didn't need that his first week on a job.
But finally it had to be addressed and Beloved and I talked. And he made me realize something I hadn't before:
He said that when he was gone I was so strong. That I had faith in the end that Heavenly Father showed me, and I had the perspective to see his hurtful words for what they were: lies to justify his actions, or lies he told himself. (And that is something that bothers me: I liked who I was and felt good about myself and felt so strong when he was gone. I felt like when he came back home all that went away, you know?) I have always said that it wasn't me holding myself together. Because it wasn't. But what Beloved said next really struck me. He said maybe I was being held together because I was letting Heavenly Father into my life, letting him hold me together. But when Beloved came home, I just stopped.
I thought about it after he said that because it felt right when he said it. And I realize that I did just that. I kept asking Heavenly Father to just carry my burden just a little longer, that I'd pick it up when I could. And somehow, I just thought (foolishly, I know) that when he came home the hard part was over. And I just stopped depending on Heavenly Father for that. I remember thinking that He had handed it back to me because I could feel it's weight now on my heart. But I don't think He did hand it back. I think I took it back. I felt like His turn was over and now it was my turn. But I'm not that strong. I can't shoulder that weight alone. Who can? Isn't that why our Savior died for us? To take our pain upon himself? Our sins, but also the pain that we feel? Because of our own sins? Because of the sins of others? So that we can forgive? Truly forgive?
It sounds so silly of me to have forgotten that. To have stolen back my load when He would have gladly carried it further.
So that is where I am right now. Asking Him for His help again. And really, that's where I should be.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm fat.
Sooo
so fat. **This is not to say that people who may be bigger than me should feel worse or any of that stuff. Cuz I've been bigger than I am now. This isn't about you. This is about me. And how I feel about my body right now. I'm just sayin'...**
I have gained 30 pounds in the last 4 months.
That's a lot. I know.
At first when I started to gain I told myself that it was because Beloved and I were celebrating. We ate sweets while snuggling on the couch after the kids went to bed, and ate out often after he came home. But, see, I didn't gain more than 5 lbs from September to December.
I gained it all after that. So technically it is 35 lbs. Yikes.
I gained it quickly. So quickly. Mainly because, though I say it has been four months, I have maintained at this weight for a month. So, really it is 30 lbs in 3 months.
OK. So why am I talking about weight on a blog about infidelity? For a couple of reasons. But the main one is the only one I'll address right now:
I've been swallowing my emotions.
I found they go down easier with a bite of anything I can find in the kitchen and a swig of Dr. Pepper. Or water. I'm not picky. Although the Dr. Pepper sure does taste good...Mmmm....Dr. Pepper. (that was my little homage to Homer Simpson and doughnuts--which are about the only things I haven't eaten in the last few months.)
I thought I was ready to come back to blogging. But it has been a struggle. How much do I tell about my 'getting over it' process? Where is the fine line between too much said and just enough to get my head on straight again? And then there has been the whole 'time' issue. It seems like my days are going faster right now. And depression. There has been some of that, too. Though, to be honest with you, I just call it 'not feeling well'. And it doesn't last long.
Usually once we go and talk things out with Dr. F I feel better. But I have a hard time talking about things with Beloved at home. I feel like with Dr. F it is safer, somehow. I mean that if he becomes distraught over something that hurt me, she can talk him through it. If I start to feel like a pathetic little porcupine--all prickly and hard on the outside but just lonely and sad on the inside she talks me out of it, or helps him to get me out of it.
I feel like we are learning the skills we need, but it is remembering them when the time comes that we struggle with. And, let's face it, how many of us in our everyday conversations with our spouses say, "I need to talk to you about something. Is now a good time? Can you mirror me?" Which, by the way, really does help a lot. But I seem to miss my own warning signs that tell me I am starting to struggle with some memory or emotion. I tend not to catch it until I am close to boiling over. I need to pay better attention.
This week I started watching what I eat. Again. And I decided I wouldn't eat when I was upset. Or lonely. Or bored. Or sad. Or angry. Or any of that other shtuff. But here is the problem:
I was a witch. And moody. Becuase I took away the thing that I was self-medicating with, and I didn't have any other option. I was working out, but that didn't seem to help. I hoped it would. I thought, "I'm trading emotionally eating for working out." It seemed like an even trade in my mind. Not so much.
And Beloved and I had a rough week. All of those emotions stated above and all the others I wrestle with just rose to the surface this week. Added to this was the concern I felt over Beloved starting a new job on Monday. I had to act like I was fine because if he knows I am upset it just messes with his self-esteem and he didn't need that his first week on a job.
But finally it had to be addressed and Beloved and I talked. And he made me realize something I hadn't before:
He said that when he was gone I was so strong. That I had faith in the end that Heavenly Father showed me, and I had the perspective to see his hurtful words for what they were: lies to justify his actions, or lies he told himself. (And that is something that bothers me: I liked who I was and felt good about myself and felt so strong when he was gone. I felt like when he came back home all that went away, you know?) I have always said that it wasn't me holding myself together. Because it wasn't. But what Beloved said next really struck me. He said maybe I was being held together because I was letting Heavenly Father into my life, letting him hold me together. But when Beloved came home, I just stopped.
I thought about it after he said that because it felt right when he said it. And I realize that I did just that. I kept asking Heavenly Father to just carry my burden just a little longer, that I'd pick it up when I could. And somehow, I just thought (foolishly, I know) that when he came home the hard part was over. And I just stopped depending on Heavenly Father for that. I remember thinking that He had handed it back to me because I could feel it's weight now on my heart. But I don't think He did hand it back. I think I took it back. I felt like His turn was over and now it was my turn. But I'm not that strong. I can't shoulder that weight alone. Who can? Isn't that why our Savior died for us? To take our pain upon himself? Our sins, but also the pain that we feel? Because of our own sins? Because of the sins of others? So that we can forgive? Truly forgive?
It sounds so silly of me to have forgotten that. To have stolen back my load when He would have gladly carried it further.
So that is where I am right now. Asking Him for His help again. And really, that's where I should be.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
No Hyperlinks. I'm feeling lazy.
Apparently no title, either!
Proving herself to be the Smartest Woman in the World, Housewife Savant has done it again.
She predicted to me that now that Beloved is back my life may become too busy for a time--too busy to blog. I hate to admit it, but that woman was right. And has great hair. ; )
So, I'll just tell you what happened with Shannon after Beloved broke it off.
The day after Beloved came home I got on facebook to post something prodigal son-y, figuring that those who knew what was going on would understand and those who didn't would go, 'Huh?' and not give it another thought.
While I was on I noticed that I had a message. Now, I knew it was from her before I clicked on that little Messages tab/doohickey (sp?). But I opened it and sure enough she had written me a message. Now, for those who are on facebook, you know that you only see a line or so from that message and then you have to click on the message to open it and read the whole text.
Well, it said (all that I could see): "Well, I guess you won. Have a great life. Oh and let me just say 3"--but that is where it cut off. And I knew I wasn't ready to open it up and read what she had to say. I figured it wasn't "3 super-sweet things Beloved said about you" or "3 of my favorite kinds of ice-cream, just FYI!" So I let it sit.
I will say that I knew it was not pleasant. I knew she sent it just to mess with me, so I ignored it. For a while. Ok, a week or two. Yeah. I'm not so smart, sometimes.
I won't go into what it said, but it messed me up for a few days.
Added to that Beloved opened his email and had an email from her. He told me and said I could just delete it. I read it. Of course. Then we blocked all of her email addresses.
It had to do with cancelling flights and sending stuff that he had left behind back to him and him mailing back the autographed Steve Young jersey she had bought for him. She had told him to just burn it, but he felt like it was expensive and he didn't want to keep it and didn't want to just give it away so I mailed it to her. I gotta tell you, I felt bad sending that jersey away. He has always wanted one, and we could never afford one. Anyway....
She told him that she had gone back to her husband and they are 'putting God first in [their] lives' with the addendum, "so long as he doesn't drink anymore", which I felt was her little way of reminding him of how her husband 'was so bad to her' (which may not in fact be true). Just a feeling I had. And then she asked how things are going with me and him and that she'd really love to hear from him. That she was sorry for being angry and that she was just hurt, and what is going on with him? How is he doing? Blah blah blah. I felt like she was trying to reopen a conversation between them.
Then we got a box from her. Beloved didn't want to deal with it, so I went out to the garage and handled it all. I won't go into everything that was in there. (All of it went to Goodwill or the trash, by the way, except his yearbook and some football cards.) There was a long letter in there saying that she will always love him and that they are soul mates and that she wants him to call her in a year or two to tell her how things are going (Yeah, right.) and that she was really angry at first, but then she called her husband right after hanging up with Beloved because God told her to and they went on their first date and she's so happy with him and then she reminds Beloved that he always knows how to reach her if he wants to, blah blah blah. I felt like it was fake for some reason.
It was. Because a few weeks ago someone I know who also knows Shannon said that she had just recently gone back to her husband. Which supports my hunch that she was writing those things hoping Beloved would say, "Wait...I don't like the idea of you with him..." and come right back.
So there is a little bit of catch-up. I thought it'd be fun to think of some endings for that sentence: "Oh and let me just say 3..."
Got an idea? Post it in the comments.
___________________________
And, my I'mNotGivingUpOnYou yahoo friend: I am so sorry I haven't ever gotten back to you. I think about you all the time. Pretty much every day. I think, "R did this. It may not be the same situation, but R did this. I can do it, too." So, thank you, my friend. I don't know you, but I really am thankful you wrote me. I'd like to say I'll email you back soon, but I don't know when that will be. But I'll post here to let you know...um. Ok. That was a long side message.
Proving herself to be the Smartest Woman in the World, Housewife Savant has done it again.
She predicted to me that now that Beloved is back my life may become too busy for a time--too busy to blog. I hate to admit it, but that woman was right. And has great hair. ; )
So, I'll just tell you what happened with Shannon after Beloved broke it off.
The day after Beloved came home I got on facebook to post something prodigal son-y, figuring that those who knew what was going on would understand and those who didn't would go, 'Huh?' and not give it another thought.
While I was on I noticed that I had a message. Now, I knew it was from her before I clicked on that little Messages tab/doohickey (sp?). But I opened it and sure enough she had written me a message. Now, for those who are on facebook, you know that you only see a line or so from that message and then you have to click on the message to open it and read the whole text.
Well, it said (all that I could see): "Well, I guess you won. Have a great life. Oh and let me just say 3"--but that is where it cut off. And I knew I wasn't ready to open it up and read what she had to say. I figured it wasn't "3 super-sweet things Beloved said about you" or "3 of my favorite kinds of ice-cream, just FYI!" So I let it sit.
I will say that I knew it was not pleasant. I knew she sent it just to mess with me, so I ignored it. For a while. Ok, a week or two. Yeah. I'm not so smart, sometimes.
I won't go into what it said, but it messed me up for a few days.
Added to that Beloved opened his email and had an email from her. He told me and said I could just delete it. I read it. Of course. Then we blocked all of her email addresses.
It had to do with cancelling flights and sending stuff that he had left behind back to him and him mailing back the autographed Steve Young jersey she had bought for him. She had told him to just burn it, but he felt like it was expensive and he didn't want to keep it and didn't want to just give it away so I mailed it to her. I gotta tell you, I felt bad sending that jersey away. He has always wanted one, and we could never afford one. Anyway....
She told him that she had gone back to her husband and they are 'putting God first in [their] lives' with the addendum, "so long as he doesn't drink anymore", which I felt was her little way of reminding him of how her husband 'was so bad to her' (which may not in fact be true). Just a feeling I had. And then she asked how things are going with me and him and that she'd really love to hear from him. That she was sorry for being angry and that she was just hurt, and what is going on with him? How is he doing? Blah blah blah. I felt like she was trying to reopen a conversation between them.
Then we got a box from her. Beloved didn't want to deal with it, so I went out to the garage and handled it all. I won't go into everything that was in there. (All of it went to Goodwill or the trash, by the way, except his yearbook and some football cards.) There was a long letter in there saying that she will always love him and that they are soul mates and that she wants him to call her in a year or two to tell her how things are going (Yeah, right.) and that she was really angry at first, but then she called her husband right after hanging up with Beloved because God told her to and they went on their first date and she's so happy with him and then she reminds Beloved that he always knows how to reach her if he wants to, blah blah blah. I felt like it was fake for some reason.
It was. Because a few weeks ago someone I know who also knows Shannon said that she had just recently gone back to her husband. Which supports my hunch that she was writing those things hoping Beloved would say, "Wait...I don't like the idea of you with him..." and come right back.
So there is a little bit of catch-up. I thought it'd be fun to think of some endings for that sentence: "Oh and let me just say 3..."
Got an idea? Post it in the comments.
___________________________
And, my I'mNotGivingUpOnYou yahoo friend: I am so sorry I haven't ever gotten back to you. I think about you all the time. Pretty much every day. I think, "R did this. It may not be the same situation, but R did this. I can do it, too." So, thank you, my friend. I don't know you, but I really am thankful you wrote me. I'd like to say I'll email you back soon, but I don't know when that will be. But I'll post here to let you know...um. Ok. That was a long side message.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A New Perspective, or, A Visit With The Emissions-Tester-Guy
Is it just me, or does that second title have a certain ring to it? ; )
So, it was the last day of the year in 2009.
And I had to get my emissions test done for my van so I could get my registration renewed. Oh, and it was the last day of the grace-period month as well. (I probably didn't have to mention that, but I guess that just helps you to get to know me better...)
I got to the Emissions Testing Center just a few minutes after they opened so I didn't have much of a wait. I made a dork of myself while trying to prepare my car for the test (read: cleaning up tissues, putting away my ipod, etc.) but we won't go into further explanation of that. I went into the waiting room and...waited. It didn't take long and in about 10 minutes I was outside giving my check to the Emissions-Tester-Guy.
Don't you love it when people are cheery and friendly? I do. This guy greeted me with this wide grin and asked me how I was doing, and when I inquired into his day he smiled and said, "I'm living the dream, ma'am, I'm living the dream!" in the most good-natured way. Now, it was f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g outside, and if it were me I would have beengriping about commenting on the cold. We chatted for a bit as he finished printing up my paperwork.
And he said, "Aren't you glad to see 2009 end?" And then he said something about starting a new year. OK. I know what you are thinking: Duh, Gigi. It was New Year's Eve, of course the conversation would go something like that. And you are right. But for some reason when Emissions-Tester-Guy said that it went straight to my heart and I thought, "Yeah. OK. I can say this year is over and behind me. I can choose to start anew and maybe even think anew."
I think this is a perspective I wouldn't have found on my own. Is that ridiculous? Probably. Perhaps anyone else would have already thought of it.
But I didn't, and so I am grateful for some friendly banter with a perfect stranger on December 31st.
Here is to a New Year.
And here is wishing Joy and Blessings for you and your families in 2010.
(hee hee. I was typing fast and I typed 2019. That would have been funny: "Hey, hope you have joy and blessings in 2019. and for 2010 i'm sending you patience. you know, 'cause you'll need it if you have to wait until 2019 for joy and blessings!")
So, it was the last day of the year in 2009.
And I had to get my emissions test done for my van so I could get my registration renewed. Oh, and it was the last day of the grace-period month as well. (I probably didn't have to mention that, but I guess that just helps you to get to know me better...)
I got to the Emissions Testing Center just a few minutes after they opened so I didn't have much of a wait. I made a dork of myself while trying to prepare my car for the test (read: cleaning up tissues, putting away my ipod, etc.) but we won't go into further explanation of that. I went into the waiting room and...waited. It didn't take long and in about 10 minutes I was outside giving my check to the Emissions-Tester-Guy.
Don't you love it when people are cheery and friendly? I do. This guy greeted me with this wide grin and asked me how I was doing, and when I inquired into his day he smiled and said, "I'm living the dream, ma'am, I'm living the dream!" in the most good-natured way. Now, it was f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g outside, and if it were me I would have been
And he said, "Aren't you glad to see 2009 end?" And then he said something about starting a new year. OK. I know what you are thinking: Duh, Gigi. It was New Year's Eve, of course the conversation would go something like that. And you are right. But for some reason when Emissions-Tester-Guy said that it went straight to my heart and I thought, "Yeah. OK. I can say this year is over and behind me. I can choose to start anew and maybe even think anew."
I think this is a perspective I wouldn't have found on my own. Is that ridiculous? Probably. Perhaps anyone else would have already thought of it.
But I didn't, and so I am grateful for some friendly banter with a perfect stranger on December 31st.
Here is to a New Year.
And here is wishing Joy and Blessings for you and your families in 2010.
(hee hee. I was typing fast and I typed 2019. That would have been funny: "Hey, hope you have joy and blessings in 2019. and for 2010 i'm sending you patience. you know, 'cause you'll need it if you have to wait until 2019 for joy and blessings!")
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
So, do I owe you $100 now?
Oh, I have missed you.
This distance between me and this blog/you all has been crushing.
Truly.
Because it seems that if I don't allow my thoughts and feelings to vent, well, they just end up crushing me on the inside. There is nowhere for them to go.
So.
Where have I been these many weeks?
Losing my mind.
Now, don't get me wrong: I have days when I feel okay. It isn't that I don't think too much or hurt too much on those days, it is just that I am better able to keep out the crazy or keep myself calm...er.
But there are many days wherein I don't think I can go on a moment longer. Where I can't STOP thinking and hurting. Those days are bad. So bad.
It is frustrating, too. Because I know how calm and even and peaceful I was able to feel when he was gone. Why is it so hard to be that way now? I do know that part of it is I have not been clinging to Father in Heaven as closely as I had when Beloved was away. When he was being unfaithful. When he was cheating. Gosh. I realize that I talk about it often as 'when he was gone'. Is it because I don't want to call it what it was? Or another reason? I am not sure. But I am realizing that I cannot be peaceful and calm if I'm not keeping myself spiritually centered. So I need to fix that.
We are in counseling. Marriage counseling. And I really like our thereapist. So does he. This week we talked about the fact that I hurt. Gosh that sounds like such a simple thing to say: "I hurt." But I don't know how else to say what it is that I feel.
This hurt is so...pervasive. Is that the word I want? I think I understand how people get hooked on drugs (prescription or otherwise) just to dull all the noise in their heads and emotion they cannot deal with. I think sometimes it would be nice just to go to sleep and not...feel.
I told Beloved: Forgiving is easy. I've done that. I have no need to make him hurt or 'pay' for what he has done. That is between him and God.
Forgiving is easy. It's the not hurting part that I am having trouble with.
And I wonder if it will ever go away? Do you think it does? Fully?
Beloved's grandfather is very ill. And grandma isn't doing so well, either. And one of Beloved's aunts sent out an email with a dialogue between Grandma and Grandpa that was so...tender...and I thought (after crying and crying at the sweet and loving emotions expressed by word or carried along in the words) "Will we get there? Will there be a day in the future where I won't hurt about this and think about it? When I don't ache?"
I think there will. I think it will come. But I really hope it comes soon. Because I feel like I am not the best Gigi I could be while I feel all of these...icky emotions, for lack of better words. (Hey, it's almost midnight and I am out of the habit of writing. Cut me some slack.)
I have learned (after my last REALLY BAD episode of 'crazy') that I need you. This is where I think through my emotions and I find in writing them, I have to form them in a coherent manner. And so they stop bumping around in my head like balloons. So now you know.
And thanks for the therapy.
This distance between me and this blog/you all has been crushing.
Truly.
Because it seems that if I don't allow my thoughts and feelings to vent, well, they just end up crushing me on the inside. There is nowhere for them to go.
So.
Where have I been these many weeks?
Losing my mind.
Now, don't get me wrong: I have days when I feel okay. It isn't that I don't think too much or hurt too much on those days, it is just that I am better able to keep out the crazy or keep myself calm...er.
But there are many days wherein I don't think I can go on a moment longer. Where I can't STOP thinking and hurting. Those days are bad. So bad.
It is frustrating, too. Because I know how calm and even and peaceful I was able to feel when he was gone. Why is it so hard to be that way now? I do know that part of it is I have not been clinging to Father in Heaven as closely as I had when Beloved was away. When he was being unfaithful. When he was cheating. Gosh. I realize that I talk about it often as 'when he was gone'. Is it because I don't want to call it what it was? Or another reason? I am not sure. But I am realizing that I cannot be peaceful and calm if I'm not keeping myself spiritually centered. So I need to fix that.
We are in counseling. Marriage counseling. And I really like our thereapist. So does he. This week we talked about the fact that I hurt. Gosh that sounds like such a simple thing to say: "I hurt." But I don't know how else to say what it is that I feel.
This hurt is so...pervasive. Is that the word I want? I think I understand how people get hooked on drugs (prescription or otherwise) just to dull all the noise in their heads and emotion they cannot deal with. I think sometimes it would be nice just to go to sleep and not...feel.
I told Beloved: Forgiving is easy. I've done that. I have no need to make him hurt or 'pay' for what he has done. That is between him and God.
Forgiving is easy. It's the not hurting part that I am having trouble with.
And I wonder if it will ever go away? Do you think it does? Fully?
Beloved's grandfather is very ill. And grandma isn't doing so well, either. And one of Beloved's aunts sent out an email with a dialogue between Grandma and Grandpa that was so...tender...and I thought (after crying and crying at the sweet and loving emotions expressed by word or carried along in the words) "Will we get there? Will there be a day in the future where I won't hurt about this and think about it? When I don't ache?"
I think there will. I think it will come. But I really hope it comes soon. Because I feel like I am not the best Gigi I could be while I feel all of these...icky emotions, for lack of better words. (Hey, it's almost midnight and I am out of the habit of writing. Cut me some slack.)
I have learned (after my last REALLY BAD episode of 'crazy') that I need you. This is where I think through my emotions and I find in writing them, I have to form them in a coherent manner. And so they stop bumping around in my head like balloons. So now you know.
And thanks for the therapy.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Remember me?
Hi, all.
I have been out of the blogosphere for a while. We went on vacation as a family. Our computer crashed. Things like that.
I'm back now. I think the computer problem is fixed. (Though I am using my Mom's computer to type this up right now.)
I have several posts I have been working on in my head. You know, because I hate actually writing up drafts and stuff. Too lazy.
Beloved's post will be coming on his own time. Right now we are still trying to get 'us' in shape. If 'in shape' is the right word...which, it's not. Oh well.
I have to go. The pizza's in the oven and I need to hurry. We're going out and leaving the kids with my Mom and Dad for the weekend. Yippee!
Gigi.
I have been out of the blogosphere for a while. We went on vacation as a family. Our computer crashed. Things like that.
I'm back now. I think the computer problem is fixed. (Though I am using my Mom's computer to type this up right now.)
I have several posts I have been working on in my head. You know, because I hate actually writing up drafts and stuff. Too lazy.
Beloved's post will be coming on his own time. Right now we are still trying to get 'us' in shape. If 'in shape' is the right word...which, it's not. Oh well.
I have to go. The pizza's in the oven and I need to hurry. We're going out and leaving the kids with my Mom and Dad for the weekend. Yippee!
Gigi.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Friday He Came Home
It has taken me a long time to sit down to type this out. I am not sure all that I will share. It is all kind of mixed up in my mind. I think emotion overload and my head spinning has something to do with it. But in any case, here we go:
Friday (09-25-09) started out with me thinking about what he had said the night before. I awoke and thought about it and decided that I was going to be thankful for what had transpired, but not read too much into it. I thought to myself, "Ok. He needs time. I can do that. If he needs a month, I'll give him a month. If he needs three, I'll give him three..."
On Thursday night he and I talked about Kirby Heyborne and some of his youtube stuff that I saw. I told Beloved he had to see the Kirby Heyborne/Mr. T commercial for Snickers. So I emailed it to him when he went home. Then I wrote in my journal and sent him a few emails of things I found (news stories and a cakewreck that I knew he would hate--er, love). We emailed back and forth that day about them.
When he got home from work on Friday we gravitated to each other. He kept finding me to hug or kiss or just talk. I was doing the same.
After the kids went to bed he and I sat and watched t.v. (I don't remember what) and he took my hand and was stroking it and looking at it with a queer expression. Queer, because I didn't know what it meant. So I asked him, "What? Is it dry?"--because I'm super-classy that way.
He answered with, "No. I just...missed holding your hand."
I didn't know how to take that. So I asked him, "Are you for real? Is this for real?"
And he asked, "What? This?"(indicating his hand holding mine)
And I said, "Yes. Are you serious?"
And we began talking. I wish I could remember how it all began. But we talked. I remember him saying something about coming over and every day I was just so loving and he didn't expect me to cook dinner for him or to be kind or happy to see him, but I did all those things and I laughed at his jokes (a sense of humor is terribly important to him--and me), and I was keeping the house organized and, "and you looked so beautiful. Every day. Why did you do those things?!"
And so I told him, "Well, the looking nice was for me. I like the way I look. I think it's funny that it took this for me to find that I like me. And the house, and treating you that way, well, I wanted you to feel comfortable and welcome here."
And we talked more. He told me everything. He told me how sorry he was, and how he was a fool. And I asked him when he wanted to come home. And he looked like I had just handed him the moon. And he started crying again and said, "I want to come home right now." And I said that he needed to do something first (which was that he needed to tell her it was over).
He had already told her that he would not ever be moving out to be with her. She was pretty upset about that. She had already rented and furnished an apartment in June with the understanding that he would be moving out there.
I was a mess. I wasn't sure what to think. He seemed in earnest, but it felt too easy. I thought, "Have I been through enough? Shouldn't this struggle be longer?" I know, I know, 'don't look a gift-horse in the mouth' and all that. But I couldn't help it.
So I was honest and told him that I was afraid that I'd wake up in the morning and when he came over he'd tell me it was all a joke and wasn't I stupid for falling for it. Or I picured (but didn't tell him this) that he'd be here in the morning with divorce papers, laughing at me, at my gullibility.
He asked me what I wanted him to do and I said that I wanted him to go to his place and call her. Break it off, and come back home. I didn't care how long it took. I wanted to wake up beside him. If this was for real I didn't want to spend another night away from him. He agreed. We kept talking (and crying, and hugging, etc.).
This exchange lasted hours. Neither of us wanted him to leave, but at the same time, we wanted it to be over so he could be home again. At least, that's what I think we both felt.
He left and called her from his cell phone in the car. He told her that he was calling so late because we had been talking and that he had told me everything and that I was willing to take him back. She hung up on him.
He called her back and he explained that it was over and he was coming back home. She called him names and told him he was a rotten person, emotionally abusive and manipulative, etc. She told him not to ever contact her again, which he agreed to. She told him not to call her family or her friends or anything else. He agreed to that, too, and no emails or texts. (Incidentally, BFF and I had a good laugh over this. She said, 'wow she was really covering her bases, there, wasn't she' and we laughed and added, 'and don't send me a telegraph!' and 'no letters!' and 'not even by pony express!' and 'no telegrams, singing or otherwise!' See, it's fun to laugh at inappropriate things...)
I don't remember what else. But he called me on my cell phone and said that he was finished and he was on his way 'home'. That was something that was sweet. While he and I were talking he said a couple of times that he had to go back to his place to get clothes and to break it off with her and come back 'home'--and he would say the word with such relief and delight.
While he was gone I got online and was too confused to write a post about what had just happened. So I finished a post I had been working on earlier and posted it.
I went to my room to read my scriptures and wait. I changed the sheets on the bed (because Big Boy had slept in the bed 2 nights in a row since Baby Boy was having a hard time sleeping and Big Boy drools...a lot. And it was all on Beloved's side of the bed. I figured he probably didn't want to sleep on that.)
I heard his car. I was listening for it. I met him at the door. I opened the door for him and he looked at me and he said, 'I'm home.' and I hugged him and said, "Welcome home." And we cried.
We got into bed and talked for several more hours. I kept waking up because I was being squeezed from behind and because he kept saying over and over " I love you. I love you, honey. "
That's about all I remember.
And so here it is...I asked Beloved if he'd be willing to tell you why he came home. In his own words. He said he would. And he said he'd be willing to answer questions, too. As am I.
HC, I see you left a question and advice in your comment. I will address it in the next post. And, if this is the HC that I think it is, then you should know that I love you right back. And miss you. And wish I could see you and give you a big hug. And bake brownies and goodies on a Sunday afternoon like old times. ; )
OK. Sorry about that, folks. Back to business. So. IF you would like to hear from Beloved, let me know. Not that you have much choice in the matter, since I am going to have him do it anyway. But, if you have a particular question you would like answered, post it or email me with it. I am not saying it will be answered (I reserve the right to tell him not to answer a question if I think it is inappropriate), but feel free to ask it.
Also. If I have left any holes, feel free to point them out to me, too. My email is right there on the right hand side of the page.
Gigi.
Friday (09-25-09) started out with me thinking about what he had said the night before. I awoke and thought about it and decided that I was going to be thankful for what had transpired, but not read too much into it. I thought to myself, "Ok. He needs time. I can do that. If he needs a month, I'll give him a month. If he needs three, I'll give him three..."
On Thursday night he and I talked about Kirby Heyborne and some of his youtube stuff that I saw. I told Beloved he had to see the Kirby Heyborne/Mr. T commercial for Snickers. So I emailed it to him when he went home. Then I wrote in my journal and sent him a few emails of things I found (news stories and a cakewreck that I knew he would hate--er, love). We emailed back and forth that day about them.
When he got home from work on Friday we gravitated to each other. He kept finding me to hug or kiss or just talk. I was doing the same.
After the kids went to bed he and I sat and watched t.v. (I don't remember what) and he took my hand and was stroking it and looking at it with a queer expression. Queer, because I didn't know what it meant. So I asked him, "What? Is it dry?"--because I'm super-classy that way.
He answered with, "No. I just...missed holding your hand."
I didn't know how to take that. So I asked him, "Are you for real? Is this for real?"
And he asked, "What? This?"(indicating his hand holding mine)
And I said, "Yes. Are you serious?"
And we began talking. I wish I could remember how it all began. But we talked. I remember him saying something about coming over and every day I was just so loving and he didn't expect me to cook dinner for him or to be kind or happy to see him, but I did all those things and I laughed at his jokes (a sense of humor is terribly important to him--and me), and I was keeping the house organized and, "and you looked so beautiful. Every day. Why did you do those things?!"
And so I told him, "Well, the looking nice was for me. I like the way I look. I think it's funny that it took this for me to find that I like me. And the house, and treating you that way, well, I wanted you to feel comfortable and welcome here."
And we talked more. He told me everything. He told me how sorry he was, and how he was a fool. And I asked him when he wanted to come home. And he looked like I had just handed him the moon. And he started crying again and said, "I want to come home right now." And I said that he needed to do something first (which was that he needed to tell her it was over).
He had already told her that he would not ever be moving out to be with her. She was pretty upset about that. She had already rented and furnished an apartment in June with the understanding that he would be moving out there.
I was a mess. I wasn't sure what to think. He seemed in earnest, but it felt too easy. I thought, "Have I been through enough? Shouldn't this struggle be longer?" I know, I know, 'don't look a gift-horse in the mouth' and all that. But I couldn't help it.
So I was honest and told him that I was afraid that I'd wake up in the morning and when he came over he'd tell me it was all a joke and wasn't I stupid for falling for it. Or I picured (but didn't tell him this) that he'd be here in the morning with divorce papers, laughing at me, at my gullibility.
He asked me what I wanted him to do and I said that I wanted him to go to his place and call her. Break it off, and come back home. I didn't care how long it took. I wanted to wake up beside him. If this was for real I didn't want to spend another night away from him. He agreed. We kept talking (and crying, and hugging, etc.).
This exchange lasted hours. Neither of us wanted him to leave, but at the same time, we wanted it to be over so he could be home again. At least, that's what I think we both felt.
He left and called her from his cell phone in the car. He told her that he was calling so late because we had been talking and that he had told me everything and that I was willing to take him back. She hung up on him.
He called her back and he explained that it was over and he was coming back home. She called him names and told him he was a rotten person, emotionally abusive and manipulative, etc. She told him not to ever contact her again, which he agreed to. She told him not to call her family or her friends or anything else. He agreed to that, too, and no emails or texts. (Incidentally, BFF and I had a good laugh over this. She said, 'wow she was really covering her bases, there, wasn't she' and we laughed and added, 'and don't send me a telegraph!' and 'no letters!' and 'not even by pony express!' and 'no telegrams, singing or otherwise!' See, it's fun to laugh at inappropriate things...)
I don't remember what else. But he called me on my cell phone and said that he was finished and he was on his way 'home'. That was something that was sweet. While he and I were talking he said a couple of times that he had to go back to his place to get clothes and to break it off with her and come back 'home'--and he would say the word with such relief and delight.
While he was gone I got online and was too confused to write a post about what had just happened. So I finished a post I had been working on earlier and posted it.
I went to my room to read my scriptures and wait. I changed the sheets on the bed (because Big Boy had slept in the bed 2 nights in a row since Baby Boy was having a hard time sleeping and Big Boy drools...a lot. And it was all on Beloved's side of the bed. I figured he probably didn't want to sleep on that.)
I heard his car. I was listening for it. I met him at the door. I opened the door for him and he looked at me and he said, 'I'm home.' and I hugged him and said, "Welcome home." And we cried.
We got into bed and talked for several more hours. I kept waking up because I was being squeezed from behind and because he kept saying over and over " I love you. I love you, honey. "
That's about all I remember.
And so here it is...I asked Beloved if he'd be willing to tell you why he came home. In his own words. He said he would. And he said he'd be willing to answer questions, too. As am I.
HC, I see you left a question and advice in your comment. I will address it in the next post. And, if this is the HC that I think it is, then you should know that I love you right back. And miss you. And wish I could see you and give you a big hug. And bake brownies and goodies on a Sunday afternoon like old times. ; )
OK. Sorry about that, folks. Back to business. So. IF you would like to hear from Beloved, let me know. Not that you have much choice in the matter, since I am going to have him do it anyway. But, if you have a particular question you would like answered, post it or email me with it. I am not saying it will be answered (I reserve the right to tell him not to answer a question if I think it is inappropriate), but feel free to ask it.
Also. If I have left any holes, feel free to point them out to me, too. My email is right there on the right hand side of the page.
Gigi.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
