Monday, May 21, 2012
Everything I've Lost
mmmMM Coffeee. I woke up at 10 this morning. And immediately got all teary-sad. Stopped myself. And thanked God for this pretty day. Got up brushed teeth got dressed ran out of the house forgetting to put the dog up. Because I wanted coffee and was out of creamer.
Ran up to the store that I absolutely cannot stand because I not only needed creamer, but power steering fluid for the leak in my power steering rack that I cannot afford to fix right now. And a scale. Because I'm feeling rather large these days. Grabbed the kids some after school snack stuff, stopped by McDonald's and got myself coffee because I knew I wouldn't want it to wait for it to drip when I got home.
I walked in the door, and the dog I forgot to put up had crapped in the living room, and eaten the bowl from yesterday's lunch I'd had in my purse and forgot to put in the kitchen the night before.
When I got home at 8 last night, my kids welcomed me. I spent some time with both of them, doing my best to keep the tears to myself. I sat on the couch and rubbed my oldest baby's feet for awhile and listened to her ask me if I'd take her to the library. I said I would. And held my other baby for a little while before I sent them to bed.
And then I lost it.
I cried myself to sleep last night. For the past week or so I've been doing great. I'm learning about what finding peace in God no matter the circumstance - really is. This life has been shit, for lack of more lady-like terminology to describe it. I've gone from heart ache to tragedy. Mostly of my own doing. I've fought a long, hard fight. And I'm naturally optimistic. So no matter how ridiculous the situation, I think I was designed to not know anything but just keep going. In the past few years, I've lost that. I'm not sure how to get it back.
A few weeks ago my third husband decided to leave me. Yes, I said that. I have had not one. Not two. But three husbands. I did not want another husband after my second marriage ended horribly, after only a year. My third husband was my most precious friend. And we were both certain that God himself chose us for each other. We moved carefully. And though we're both broken in different ways, we chose to commit to our union forever because of the gift we'd been given in each other.
Life has been especially hard these past few months. Getting on my feet with absolutely nothing to start with. No job, no furniture, no place to live, no nothing. My husband is in prison. Which has complicated things for both of us tremendously. I chose to make him the answer to my struggle, needed him too much, and lost my temper. And now, he's gone.
I cannot describe the incredible pain of losing him. As fickle and short sighted and ignorant as a woman of three husbands before she's even reached 35 might sound. In this man I'd found a gentle friend. Who prayed for me. And honored me as a human being. Worried over me, and treated me with the dignity and care that every little girl dreams of for herself when she grows up.
I have not heard my husband's voice in almost three weeks now. I do not know anyone at all where I live. I do not have a church here. There aren't any. I dreamt of a family all my life. One with a mom that loved me and a dad that would never leave. Brothers and sisters for me and aunts and uncles for my children. My dream came true in the man that accidentally fell into my lap one day that I never considered being married to. And then it was broken again when he left.
Now there is no one to turn to. Not even myself. My children need a mom because this life is not easy for them either. I've stolen so much from these little people with the decisions I've made, chasing my dream of an unbroken family. I can't let them see me cry. When I come home from work and I know that the phone won't ring again tonight. There won't be a letter in the mail box telling me how proud he is of me. No voice to remind me that I can do this. Just me and two dogs and two kids that I struggle so hard to just barely provide for. I'm against a wall in a place where I'm more alone than I've ever been. Just me and the sound of failure after failure after humiliating failure.
So I made a choice. Because you know, to be honest, after all these years, even the happiest chick ever can only take so much. I'm extremely outgoing. I laugh a lot, at everything. I love people and I love to learn about them and encourage them and give them hope. But not anymore. I've shrunken into a person that just wants to be alone. Who panics when people knock at the door. Can't set foot in a church because she doesn't want anyone to see her cry. And she will in the face of people who serve the God that she knows is angry at her. Because she's so sorry for who she is.
I never thought in a million years that life would turn out this way. I wish I would've known that it was possible to end up close to 40, broke. Trying really hard to raise kids alone with nothing and no one to turn to. But I immediately went to the same God that I don't understand in my selfish anger at him who let my heart break over and over and over. Just covered in the filth from the mess I know I alone created. I told him the truth. He already knows. But he needed to know that I know too. In the past few weeks I'm learning new stuff about the one I claimed to serve but refused to when it came to giving up the only thing I ever wanted. I gave that up too. I gave my husband back to him. I gave my children back to him. I gave my broken dreams and my broken heart and my broken life and my huge shame and embarrassment and fear of losing the little bit I've struggled for. All the lies I've told to cover my failure and the smiles I make up to cover my anger at myself for not being pretty enough. I just gave it all back to him and told him I don't know what I'm doing and I'm sorry and if he doesn't hold me up I don't know if I can live anymore. I don't know that I want to keep breathing. I don't know if I'll find someone safe to take my children and just go away. I begged him to please just end it just make it stop hurting and take me home. And that I'm so sorry.
I'm still here somehow. Learning about what it means to hold on to nothing else but the goodness that's promised in choosing him. Instead of me. I'm not so ashamed today. Last night was the first time I cried in a couple of weeks. Because I'm learning about the hope that I try to give other people that I never really believed was available to me because of all the stupid things I've done. I want a hug more than I have words to explain. But more than that, I want to learn a better way.
So I'm sitting here in a living room one of the dogs messed up. Because I forgot to put her up before I ran off to get coffee to distract myself from the tears I can't help but cry as I fight to learn how to just let go. Yesterday was the first day that I felt that sorrow that's controlled me for so long. And it's carried over into today. The moments when it tries to come back and take over and remove the truth that I'm finally, slowly learning seem like forever. I had to make myself stop when I was presented with a boy who was dealing with the same sorrow that I have. And focus on helping him get through it. I did that, and it didn't do a damn thing to take away my hurting. I'm finding a new, permanent happiness. Eternal peace. Learning to just be still. As I'm figuring it out, there are times, like yesterday and last night and today.
When it hurts so bad and all I can do is tell God that I'm so sorry for being so weak and beg him to put his arms around me because I miss my daddy and I just want a hug so much and I don't understand why and please help me stay where I belong and keep wanting him more than anything else in the world but maybe bring my husband back too because I miss him so much and I'm so lost and I'm just. So. Sorry. In the middle of this. I'm finding more hope than I've ever had before. I believe that my husband will come back. I don't know when. All I know is that I have these kids that I'm not failing every day that I continue to be their mom. I have these patients that I'm allowing myself to be used to give something good to. And in them I see that I'm good at what I do. I'm learning contentment in the middle of being torn apart to become better than I was before.
Sometimes, when all you can do is not very much or nothing at all. That's when you're the most amazing.
When I open my door and leave my apartment and go out into the world and look for people hurting like I have for most of my life. And I smile so no one ever knows how much of an ugly mess I really am. So I don't have to need anyone else ever again so no one can ever have the chance to leave me. It stops being productive when I end up at the edge of a forever where I've lost the ability to reach out and ask for the same help that I'm so willing to give the rest of the world. There is humility in this. Somewhere there is someone who hurts the same way that I shared with you today. That needs to know that if you can overcome the fear of being rejected one more time, if you just reach out and tell someone. That you need help. You won't be alone anymore. And living this way, in this much pain, with this much broken heart. It can finally end. This is where the helper, meets the helped. When the strong make the choice to actively pursue loving the hurting and the hopeless the way I've described here for so long, and the hurting and the hopeless find the courage to reach out in the darkness and ask for help, beautiful things take place.
Which ever one you are. Whether you're the me that puts on a happy face, or the me that crawls into the closet so her kids can't hear her crying herself to sleep every night. All I know to say to you today, is that it's never too late. You're never not beautiful. You're never not able. If all you can do is crawl, do that. But whatever you do, don't stay still. Keep moving toward a better life, with more hope and true love. For yourself, and every one you meet.