disappointed

 everyone in my life has wrapped their head around the fact that who i thought he was, isn't who he was. but i haven't. and my heart still aches to be with the man i fell in love with- really who he is or not, that person, i love with every fiber of my being. 

everyone is so happy for me to be back- but the reality is, i am not. i watched my relationship be ripped apart from the inside out. and it didn't matter how hard i tried to save it- i couldn't do it. 

the reality is, i couldn't because who i loved isn't who he was. but my reality was not that. my reality was that i watched the gentle, sweet, loving man i intimately adored become a bitter, angry, and verbally abusive narcissist.

i watched every drop of what we had built melt into a pool of lies and deceit. i sacrificed everything to make things work with him- but it didn't matter. my relationship was sabotaged, and there was nothing i could have done differently. 

i came home because i had nowhere else to go. i had no other way to turn. i was broken. i was living with him, but i had never felt more alone that i did during that time. 

i'm thankful i had a loving family to come home to- don't get me wrong- but its absolutely not what i wanted. i was hoping for a marriage, and a baby, and a happily ever after. when things got messy, we rushed them, and they got messier. i understand all of that. 

but understand this- my heart is broken in all kinds of pieces. two wrongs didn't make it right. it was all just wrong, wrong, wrong. but it's so incredibly painful. 

i am irritable and sad and angry. my life has continually not turned out how i hoped it would. 

the facts don't care- my reality was what it was. and my heart is absolutely gutted. 

i'll be fine. its gonna take a while to process through it all, but i will be ok.

angry

 It's been a week. 

One week ago, I cracked my eyes open to see the window in my sisters guest bedroom. Not the old dingy paneling in the bedroom I had come to expect each morning. No, this one was bright white and filled with warm, glowing sunlight. 

"How did I let myself get here?" 

I laid in bed looking out the window for actual hours. I couldn't get myself up any sooner. I hated everything I had done and how it sat on me and dreaded everything ahead of me.

And that's where I am no. No job, about to have to give up my car, back in my parents house...I feel like I'm the same frustrated kid I was 5 years ago- but angrier. 

NOTHING has gone the way I hoped, dreamed or planned. It doesn't matter who's rule book I have played by- it doesn't matter which dream I have honed in on- I can't seem to get ahead in life. All life seems to enjoy doing for me, is knocking me down. 

 

Don't believe me or think I'm being dramatic? I have spent 5 years absolutely inexplicably sick all the time, several moves, can't keep a job longer than a few months either due to terrible pay, terrible management or a combination, I have been in and out of very unhealthy relationships, or ones where I just didn't measure up for them so I was tossed aside, I was in a wreck that totaled my car and has drained me financially dry. I have sustained loss, hurt, rape, defeat, exhaustion to an unidentifiable level, hopelessness, and absolute despair. 

I. Have. Nothing. I am near about penniless, stressed out, feel like I have to perform now to keep everyone's minds at ease.

Put on a smile, don't recluse, show up, be present, be apart, find drive, find ambition, don't wallow, get up, go do, be. etc. etc. etc. 

I'm exhausted. I don't want to do any of those things. 

I want to curl up and lick my wounds for a while. I need to rest and restore my heart- I can't keep worrying about everyone else its all I have ever done. For once I feel like I need to focus on me. I need to build me for a little bit. I need to do what I need to do. And I need everyone else to just meet me where I am, or not at all. Because I am too tired to offer you anything different. I do not have it any me any more. And that's what I am going to do. I have nothing else to lose. I am going to heal me. And a lot of people aren't going to like it. Oh well. I deserve to be a whole, healthy person. And I'm not. 

 

So yeah. I'm gonna spend some time to myself, hurting and struggling. I'm going to spend some time reflecting and researching and writing. I'm going to spend some time with friends or family- but I'm going to need respect when I am not able to mentally do so. I'm going to need to not be peppered with questions- I already know I get irritable. I will open up when I am ready- but I've spent so long wearing my heart on my sleeve and y'all, it hurts out there. I'm not laying it down in wet cement and trying to help it dry up- but I am tucking it away for a little while.  Box with a key sort of thing. 

I know a lot of people feel like "but all I want to do is love you" trust me- I've been there. But sometimes the most loving thing you can do is just be available. 

I'm angry. I'm angry at the world, at God, at how my life has turned out. Let me work through that. Angry people don't reason, don't want to be coddled, and don't need to be chastised. We already know. It's why we are angry.

Bitter like you

 "I'm not sorry for how I'm about to start acting- I been too nice for too long"

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It would bother me how rude he was to wait staff. I found myself being over the top friendly and kind to them, trying to compensate for how harsh and cold he was. I would give them a look, trying to convey my apologies for how he had just treated them. I was embarrassed by his behavior. He acted like they were less than him, and he had no qualms letting them know he thought as much. 

He adopted this belief- that because he had been kind and screwed over, he now no longer had to be kind to anybody- including me. We would often have the following conversation:

 

"I'm probably going to cheat on you"

"Why would you do that?"

"Cos it's what was done to me"

"And that makes it right?"

"Nope."

 

That kind of thinking permeated every crease of our relationship. But for months, it hadn't. It was like someone threw the switch and all the sudden I was dating the Grinch's evil cousin. He never laughed or smiled anymore. And he refused to pull his mind off of the hurt he had experienced. He could not look past the way he had been done dirty. 

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I sat in bed this morning and I stared straight forward and honest to God, I can't tell you how long I sat there for. I had several phone calls to make- and I knew I would be put on hold for many of them. I wasn't looking forward to my morning on the phone.  Two holds and three transfers into the first phone call, I could feel my cynicism rising. I mumbled under my breath at how incompetent "these people" were being. Then it hit me. I was starting to think the way he had. The very way that drove us apart. The very way that our relationship was sacrificed for. He and I could not stay together because he was so consumed by how he had been treated, and treated everyone with bitter anger as a result. How am I any better if I do what he has done? What if I continue down this path and sabotage my next relationship because of how I have been treated, and the cycle of hurt, betrayal and anger continues? 

I stopped and took a deep breath. I am exhausted. The weight I let out in that sigh hardly brought relief to my heart. But it's not their fault. They're just trying to help me. I called them after all, didn't I? I finished with my first call, and chose for the next one to treat them the way I always did. I was still put on hold 5 times and transferred once, but I made it through the call without getting angry. Angry is not my nature. And I will not adopt it. I've been more hurt than I ever thought I would be and be able to sustain- but angry has not and will not be my mantra.

 

I finished what I needed to and considered how his mindset really drove us apart. It didn't how much I begged for him to put his mental energy into our relationship, I had him in body, but his heart and mind were somewhere else. I spent the last two months hearing endlessly about his ex. I wish, I wish, I WISH I was over-exaggerating. 

 

IF by some miracle we did manage to talk about something else, it wouldn't last more than 5 minutes- and his face would glaze back over. His jaw would set. And his eyes narrow and grow cold. She was back on his mind. He was mulling back over the ways she'd hurt him. And I was left sitting there, trying to bring him back. 

He would get so angry and depressed- I spent hours and hours trying to bring him out of it. But he simply did not want to and therefore would not. He delighted in fueling his anger, and chose not to put the effort into moving on. 

I spent all my time with him talking about his ex- and it ruined me. It ruined our relationship. It absolutely drained me. I gave and gave and gave to give him a reason to keep going, to be the one that consumed his thoughts and to become his new dream. But he didn't want to. And so our relationship was thrust into an incredibly toxic pattern. 

I'm hurting. I am licking my wounds with the energy I can muster. But I will not become like him. I will not ruin the next person I get the privilege of loving because it is what was done to me. 

I cannot. 

I will not be bitter like him.

Dead Alive

I am convinced that the greatest loss we as humans can face, is not the death of a loved one, but the death of something inside ourselves or someone we love- and being forced to go on living. It's like looking down and seeing a massive hole right through us, and still having to breathe. Its like existing in the body of a stranger. I don't know myself anymore. 

I am in the darkest time of my life, and everything that made up my quirky, happy-go-lucky self- has been murdered. I am tired. And not the tired sleep can fix. 

I have been in the midst of hell with a constant drain on my energy and never a return to my empty reservoir. I loved another soul with every fiber of my being, and it was taken for granted- then it was assumed. Then it was abused. But one thing it never was, was enough. 

I sacrificed everything to be with them, and when I left, it was like it did not matter. 

Tears streamed down my face, and screams and cries rose up from broken, ungodly places- and they did not care. They put my clothes in my car, rubbed my hand and jet off down the road without so much as a backwards glance. 

It's been two days and my throat is still raw from the strain of endless crying. Even sleep has offered no relief. I toss and turn and the agony physically plagues me. My chest is in actual pain right now. I have never been in so much emotional turmoil. 

 

I spent months holding together the person I cared most about, only to be tossed to the side without a second thought. I've never wished harm on another person. And I still won't. But I do hope someday they wake up and realize the enormity of what happened- that they murdered a soul- which is worse than murdering a life. Because I have to go on living, with all my drive, all my ambition, all my passion just- gone. Completely zapped out of me. 

 

Every day I drag myself out of bed, through my day and dread the night. It's an endless and brutal cycle. 

 

I will tell my whole story. It will all come out, and ugly things (even my own) will be exposed. But for now I am tired. I am so tired. 

learning how to grieve

 Grief makes me uncomfortable.

In fact, it makes me so uncomfortable, it's taken me well over a week to acknowledge and admit that grief, is in fact, what I am feeling. 

I was always told "don't wallow" or "don't stay there" but I was never told that there's such a thing as not not wallowing, that moving on too quickly...isn't good either. 

So tonight when my therapist said "you need to wallow" it was uncomfortable. To be told "you're sad and the healthy thing is to feel that" 

She is trying to get me to make space for it- she used the term "compartmentalize your grief- tell yourself you're only going to grieve from 8-9pm every day" See she started out from the perspective of talking to someone who gives in too much too often and too deeply- but she learned- I don't. 

My problem is not giving it too much attention, its not giving it enough. 

So now here I am. Finally ready to admit that 

I.

Am.

Grieving. 

I'm broken, absolutely shattered. 

Grief makes me so wildly uncomfortable. Out of love, dear ones to me stand there helplessly and ask "how can I love you?" and I don't know. So the easiest thing has always been to pretend like it's not there. Like it doesn't exist. 

But now I am pushing into it. And I know that's going to ruffle some feathers because I don't ever just give in to it. I never allow the pain and the sorrow to wash over me. My idea of "giving it space" has been to cry for an hour and that's it.

But that's not how this one is going down. 

I am feeling the weight of a year plus of grief tap on the door of my heart and say "now that you're making space, maybe it's time to work through some of this stuff too" 

And y'all it SUCKS. 

I'm not numb- but I feel just completely drained and bled dry. And I think God knows that. I think that's why grief is so incredibly painful- because that pain reminds us, that as dried up and worn out as we feel- that pain you feel? It says "you're still feeling- therefore you're still breathing- therefore you're still alive"

In the times of our lives when we feel the least alive, the most painful moments are the ones that God uses to say "keep going"

I'm really blessed to have a Christian therapist that my insurance accepts and I've been able to get the psychological help I need without a massive strain on my wallet, and in the safety of a space with someone who shares my worldview. 

"You weren't promised easy going, but we were promised to experience trouble" 

Dang it.

The verse I stumbled across at 16 came rushing back to my heart as the tune from Sunday drifted into my head

"Take heart, take heart

I have overcome the world"

John 16:33.

"Why?"

So often the question I have screamed in grief and agony- but I know why now. I know that at my lowest,, at my easiest to give up-est, at my got nothing more to givest, God allows pain to let the love rush in. 

I'm not good at wallowing. I'm not good at grieving. And I'm certainly not comfortable with my own. 

But I am grieving. I am pressing into the pain knowing that's where I will feel the Saviours arms most boldly right now. Knowing He promises to be near to the brokenhearted. 

Knowing He promises I won't be here forever- so it's ok to be here for a little bit. It's ok to make space for it, it's not going to take over. It's ok to push into the pain, that's where joy is born from. 

Not the one I planned

"I could not fix what he did not want fixed"

My cousins words are lingering in my head as I sit to write this. It's not the post I had typed- I erased it. Because unknowingly to her, she summarized everything. 

I had planned to sit down and share with you all, each of the "yes" dreams God had given me through this relationship, but instead, it's turned into the most heartbreaking "no" of my life. 

Why? 

Because, as she said, I could not fix what he didn't want to fix. And he stopped trying to be the man he knows he can be. He ran. 

He ran, and I am left holding the shredded pieces of what we dreamed up together. 

I'm sorry, I don't have much more than that to say.

Weep the life

"Occasionally, weep deeply over the life that you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Feel the pain. Then wash your face, trust God, and embrace the life that he’s given you" - John Piper

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Sometimes the words hurt too much to write. I've been working on this post off and on in my heart for a few weeks, even before the events it directly addresses, because I knew. I knew for so long what needed to happen, but I knew too what I so deeply wished would happen instead. So here I am, sitting at my computer waiting for the words to gush out of me, and they want to, but with each stroke on the keys, my heart squeezes a little, and I gulp down harder and harder to stop the tears.

"look up, look up, stop the tears." my family probably thinks I'm insane, I flurry across the board, pounding out all that's in my heart, and then I pause, choke back all that's threatening to rise out of me, and ponder what I've said already.

Doctor Piper's word of encouragement frees me to feel how I am feeling, and allow and accept that I can weep over a life I hoped for, that is no longer for certain mine to obtain. The story I am trying to tell today is years in the making, and years from completion- the horizon of it isn't just blurry- I cannot see it. My faith doesn't shine that far. As I have so often done here lately, this post is requiring me to bare my soul, to cut open my heart and lay it out to be seen. It hurts to keep it in, and I know that that hurts worse- but oh to open up- how painful those cuts can be. And yet how freeing once its out, and I can wash my face and live the life I've been given.

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As it happened only a few weeks ago, moments after I ended the relationship I had at one time ardently believed would end in marriage, my phone buzzes with a picture from one of my dearest friends. He'd popped the question, and his girl had said yes. They found their forevers in each other, and I rejoice with them. But in that moment, the weight of their joy sat heavier on me than anything I had ever felt before, and I wept, loudly. Parting yourself from someone forever is a unique kind of sadness. Although we had fallen in love, he had become my best friend, and I wasn't just losing my potential mate- I was losing the person I had come to value more than anyone else. I understood why wolves howl mournfully when they lose one of the members of their pack- that hurt is deeper than comprehension. So there I sat, with that anguish oozing over me head to toe.

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Goals are tricky things. You have so little control over so many variables that go into accomplishing them, and when you don't reach the goal, you can feel something of a failure. At least I know I do. And yet, in spite of this, every year on my birthday I think, "this is it. This is the year I finally settle down." I soak in the blessings my dad prays over me, gobble up the wishes my sisters write to me, and ponder the kind words others leave for me- and I just build up in my heart, a foolish amount of certainty, that this is the year I find my forever.

It was in my serendipitous thinking a few birthdays ago, that the age 25 settled onto my heart. I don't know why, but since then I had it fixed in my head that by 25 I was going to be married, or at least engaged. To be a wife and mom has always been my dream. And even when I have let that dream be influenced, the core of it never wavered. I want a family of my own. Of this, I have always been absolutely certain.

But when 25 rolled around and I was so very far from either of those things, I thought "well maybe just during this year!" So I stumbled into this year with high hopes and a bit of a ragged heart. When I found a guy who, at least on paper, ticked most of the right boxes, I jumped.

I jumped headfirst and all in to the relationship I thought was going to be it. I don't feel up to regurgitating the whole of the past few months, but giving it up wasn't just giving up my relationship, it was failing myself.

I was failing because I knew my life wasn't going to look how I had been hoping and planning. It was devastating on every conceivable level for me. For several years, I have been elevating this year as the ONE. And now it's not.

And I have wept over the life I thought would be.

I don't even know where I am hoping this post ends, other than hopefully someone else feels freed up to grieve the life they thought would be.

Weep.

Wash your face.

Live the life you've been given.

Sincerely,

M