Archive for the ‘Divorce’ Category

The hardest part of a divorce from a long term spouse is the little things. The balance of your own quirks. 

I think it would have been easier to have hated each other when we separated. But we didn’t. We still know each other’s weak points. 

The hardest thing is hearing that it is exhausting to talk to me sometimes because  it is impossible to know just what I mean without a lot of questions. (What did I expect, he is an attorney). I already know how difficult it is for me to express how I feel or what I mean 98% of time. And to be told that it just isn’t worth figuring out what I mean, just kind of hurts. I took it for granted that I didn’t have to work too hard at expressing myself because my spouse really didn’t give a shit.

I apologized without even thinking about it. Without even considering that maybe he was just having an off evening and just snapped. Or was tired. Anxiety makes me over analyze EVERYTHING. Which I apologize for too. 

It IS hard to know what I mean all the time because I don’t even know what I mean half the time. It’s hard to realize that I need a thicker skin. And it’s hard to admit that I miss anything of my old life. 

Because really, I am just frustrated and exhausted. And I apologize when I don’t need to. And I don’t make sense all the time. And I realize that that is irritating. And that’s ok.


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I may have mentioned a few times how much I hate the old “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle,” saying. Today, it popped up in my mind on the way to greet a mental intervention team from the county, dispatched to my youngest daughter’s middle school because she sent a suicide note to one of her friends. She’s 12.

As the gentlemen spoke to me in annoyingly hushed tones, I felt the hot tears  roll down my face. Yes, I knew she was having a hard time. That was why we tried an anxiety medication. 

I answered the man’s family history questions in dumb fashion as I listened to my daughter’s plan to kill herself. A .22 rifle. Or cutting herself. My stomach lurched as she showed me a long scar on her hip where she had tried cutting. 

Mom of the year. How do you not know what to do when your kid is so desperate to end the holes in their heart?

My ex barely said anything. Shocker.

God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be strong for my kids anymore. I don’t ever know what the fuck I am doing half the time. Why am I being assaulted on every aspect of my life this year?!?!? When is it my turn to be comforted? When will someone be there to hold me when I fall apart? I have nothing left God. You have allowed levels of hell that I can’t comprehend in my life and I don’t fucking understand. You allowed my little girl to be bullied to the point of feeling like the world was better off without her…….

Please God, please, no more…….

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WTF does that even mean?!?! A well meaning ‘friend’ told me that a week ago. And quite frankly, it pissed me off.

I agree that the ‘rebound’ relationship is not something that I want to get into. But I hate being alone.

As the house sits mostly empty this evening, I am reminded that my children are not with me forever. And that being ‘alone’ is just not going to work for me. 

I was never a ‘loner’. I don’t ‘want’ to be alone. I wasn’t made to be alone. And I don’t feel like I should have to justify that to anyone. I had a soulmate. And he doesn’t exist anymore. 

Nothing will compare to that. I don’t want to learn to live with the hole in my heart. I don’t want to ‘learn to live with yourself’. I actually want to sleep next to a person at night. I actually want the ‘safety’ that I felt long ago. I don’t care about the dozens of annoying habits people have.

I just want to be loved and truly cherished by someone. So the next time you feel like telling someone that they should “get to know yourself and be in a relationship with yourself” shove a rag into your mouth. 

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I’ll be honest. I’m pretty angry right now. I didn’t know I was. Until yesterday.

Every year, I attend the Global Leadership Summit. Every year, I am moved and inspired in a deep and meaningful way. This year was no exception.

Bill Hybels gave a challenge to everyone to examine ourselves and find out who we needed to forgive in order to be able to move on. It turns out, I was angry at God. Kind of surprised me. I thought God and I were somewhat decent in our relationship. 

Not so much.

God answered my prayer and hundreds of other’s prayers to keep him alive two years ago. But He saw fit for him to not have the same personality. I assumed that I had accepted that. There is nothing I can do to change it. I was overwhelmed suddenly with relief and a torrent of tears and sobbing. I know, classy right? 

A friend asked me a crucial question. “Why do you think that God is unhappy with the failure of your marriage?” 

Simple right? Simple but mind blowing. 

It had never occurred to me that any of this was a part of God’s plan.

 It never occurred to me that my ex-husband had a large part in any of this. 

It never occurred to me that whatever is just around the corner in my life, is so big, that God needed my undivided attention and has gone to this length to get it. 

Earth shattering right? Ok, maybe not earth shattering, but it has sparked a LOT of thinking and reflection on my part. What is next? I have ZERO clue. But rest assured, God has my attention.

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The ugly cry is not fun. The before and after hardly qualify as fun either. As I plod to my car at 1am on Monday morning after an eight hour work shift on a Sunday evening, following a four hour shift at a third job at church, I start to cry. 

My body aches from hours of retail floor set  activities and Sunday school on the floor. I cry. Then, I get angry and louder and punch my steering wheel, while I make mental comment to myself (great, now you’ll have a bruised hand). Now the ugly comes on in a torrential hail of tears, slobber, and snot/tears. My teenager and preteen had gotten into a fight like they always do when I leave and the youngest locked the oldest one out of the house. During a rainstorm. 

More ugly crying. Not because I was exhausted and in pain, but because I have failed. I have failed to raise two kids who can tolerate each other and behave for 8 hours in a non homicidal fashion. I have failed to provide financially for them because I “chose to make that decision” (thank-you ex). I have failed to be the mom that I wanted to be. I have definitely failed to be the wife that I wanted to be. I have failed in so many ways that I can’t even remember a good thing right now. I have failed to pay my rent on time. Again. My utilities are late. Again. My check engine light came on and has maintained its presence for a whole week now.

I have failed to get it inspected since it went out in January. Somehow food and child expenses seemed more important at the time. 

More snot. More tears. More sobbing and hitting things. Screw washing my face at this point before I sleep. Screw everything. I get to get up in 4 hours and go to a job that I hate. For what? I don’t even know anymore. Cue more tears and snot.

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Two years ago today, my mother in law passed away unexpectedly. Two years ago, my life was turned completely upside down as my husband’s life and health spiraled down at break neck speeds. 

I never really got to grieve my mother in law’s death. My husband had a massive heart attack the following day. Her funeral, I was told, was beautiful. I was in a waiting room while my husband was on the operating room table with his chest cracked open. 

I didn’t know that I would never see either one of them again. My husband physically survived, but his personality was gone. The person that I knew was beyond gone. 

Now I sit in an armchair in my rental home. Looking out the window and thinking over the last two years. So much loss. So much heartache. These are not cherished anniversaries. I miss my mother in law. I miss the ex-husband that I used to know. 

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When the marriage has gotten so toxic, so destructive, and so costly to your wellbeing that it has no hope of redemption, it’s time to admit the burn.

When you see a person who has turned into a roasted mass, you don’t see them as a whole person. You look, scrunch up your face and go “oooooooooooh that’s gonna hurt later”. You don’t see character, personality, or anything other than blaring red pain. 

As this blaring red marriage starts to fade, I am left wondering who the hell I really am. What do I like? Can I really be a single parent? Do I have to join Farmer’s for a relationship? Should I just be single for the rest of my life? 

There is no one to balance me out anymore. No one to say “whoa, calm down neurotic Nancy”. No one to say “everything is going to be ok” even when it isn’t. 

I’m ready for the sunburn to go away, but I am scared of seeing what is underneath…………..

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