Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Conquer Abuse Overwriting Your Thought Process

SHELLY

My childhood best friend puts on a brave face. But those puffy eyes and cracking voice tell the story of how she's really doing since her ex drove into that cement wall at over 100mph leaving her without child support or alimony, desperately looking for a job and a mess of his lawsuits to clean up.



"Want to know how many interviews I've had? Over twenty. Want to know how many job offers? None. NONE." 'Shelly's exasperation melts into defeat.

I've had a front row seat to her decade-long relationship, and it's demise, from the beginning.

ABUSE & HAIRY LEGS

Seeing his abuse eat away at Shelly's confidence, self-worth, motivation, and even her desire to shave her legs--my anger is so intense the smoke billowing from my ears turns as red as my hair. With each story, more outrageous than the last, fire heats my body.

Singing 'Earl' by the Dixie Chicks usually calms us both down, but not enough this time.

We didn't have to take any drastic measures. Her Earl didn't 'walk right through the restraining order', he put himself in intensive care.

Watching her scramble to pick up the pieces, I want to smack her.

That sounds counterproductive seeing as how she just got out of an abusive relationship, and abuse infuriates me to the point of erupting.

OVERWRITTEN

Her inner voice is now overwritten and instead of fighting through the hard like she used to, she jumps to conclusions and magnifies the negative, and is taking on the shape of Eyore himself!

Renee Jain calls these "thought holes" or "skewed perceptions of reality." In her article, talking about 8 holes that people create for themselves, Shelly falls into all of them. Making it difficult to walk in a straight line or see the good coming from the tragedy.

My smacking her is out of love to get all those perceptions of reality back into their original place. To find her fighting spirit. I hear Husband's parents' voices in my head, more than my parents' now. And working on getting those out.

Both rewrites haves me so angry--Shelly's ex rewired her to be paranoid, and negative, and victimized. Husband's parents rewrote me to be submissive to the point of a drinking bird.



NO MORE

No more.

No more white flags of surrender.

No more drinking water!

Let's hear that battle cry.

You are conquering something astronomical friends. Just the acknowledgment alone is a win. Each battle cry you sound, you step higher. Reaching that goal--whatever your goal may be. And coming into your own, being free from abuse, negative thoughts, and hairy legs.

Keep going, you're doing great!

FOLLOW

Please follow this blog or facebook and we can journey together. Whatever you are going through, the journey's more fun with friends.



Thursday, September 21, 2017

Piano Guys Fight Song

I mentioned the Piano Guys cover of Fight Song on my facebook page. Here's the video. Amazing.

Piano Guys: Fight Song

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Again, no affiliate. Just something that reaches my soul and inspires, and I love to share.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

I love Trash

Confession: I love trash.

Not in an Oscar the Grouch kind of way though. I don't enjoy living amongst it.



I get super excited for trash day. And for a sight like this.



I'm thinking that is kind of weird...but I'm ok with it. I find it cleansing.

I even sneak trash into neighbor's trash cans after they've put them out. Ours is over flowing and there is no more room, so I fill up theirs a little more...I also think this is weird...Husband does too...but I'm ok with that too.

I'm going to think of this as being excited to get rid of trash in my life. Be it people. Cluttery stuff. Water damaged wood. Damaged emotions. Whatever the garbage is, I want it gone. I don't have room for garbage. Literal or figurative. (Though I think I'll stop there...because I really don't want to pawn figurative garbage off onto unsuspecting innocents...)


Monday, September 11, 2017

Power Tools Give You Power

I reached it.

My limit.

Things in the kitchen were moving along great again and we hit another wall. (Not literally...those literal walls we take out whenever possible.) Things stalled then fizzled. I've been living in a kitchen with gross glue-covered subflooring, studs, and no ceiling for almost a year now.

I need it done.

I don't know what the hang up is this time. But I need things to keep moving forward. I don't care the speed. They can inch forward for all I care. But I need movement.

So, I took matters into my own hands.



















I think that is one of the things I've lost in my battle against the abuse and the struggle with Husband's addiction. Losing many parts of myself. But the one I miss the most is the capable part. The part that looks at something and just gets it done.


I grew up with a dad who traveled a ton. But when he wasn't traveling we were working. But it was awesome. I learned how to work hard...and love it. I was using power tools at a super young age (safely). And that is what I want for my kids. The freedom that comes with capability. To look at something and not just hope it will someday happen...but grab that drill or saw or impact driver and get it done.

Husband's parents were not like that. And I don't know how it happened, but I allowed them (and partially Husband, because it was the culture he was raised in) to take it from me, my capability and my own power. It angers me to the core. But no more. They will not have that power.

Sidenote: it's amazing what power tools can do for a depressed soul...

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

'They said SNOW!'

I went to the grocery store today and felt a bit like this:

Image result for overloaded grocery cart


Now, with family and friends in disaster areas they have sent me live photos of the grocery store shelves, and my heart hurts for the people there unable to do simple things like grocery shop. I can't imagine.

My insane gluttony of 'stuff' had nothing to do with being prepared, rather...there were some really good sales.

I'm also trying to balance our budget out. Which to us means less hits of Costco trips.

In my efforts to do this, I'm trying to guess how much normal sized shampoo we use and get that on sale...enough to last us until the next sale. I mean a Costco one can last for MONTHS! But when my hair reaches the middle of my back...those teeny tiny bottles go pretty quickly.

How do you balance it all? I mean really? I went way over budget. But everything was on sale. So, I think that in the long run it will be better...but...for now, ouch. How do you do it?


Image result for overloaded grocery cart


Also, where we used to live, if there was a mention of a possibility of snow, this video is a pretty accurate description of what it was like. It wouldn't even SNOW and the shelves of the grocery store would be bare! I can't imagine what would happen in the case of a natural disaster. My hat is off to those hit by Harvey and those who go and help. It is amazing. The love, the service, the people. I am in awe.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Witness Miracles

I sit somewhat helplessly as friends and family in Houston pray fervently for rain to cease. Meanwhile, at the exact moment other friends and family are praying just as hard for rain to come stop the fires that are threatening their mountain homes.

My phone by my side texting for constant updates.

Has the water entered? Do you have power? Are you ok?

Has the fire changed direction? Do you have power? Are you ok?

It's chiming constantly. "What have you heard? Has the rain stopped?" "What have you heard? Have they gotten any rain?"

"Pray for rain!" "Pray for the rain to stop!"

And yet, with the world and weather in chaos and my heart filled with worry. The messages I see and hear from these family and friends are filled with humor, love, hope, and peace.

Why? Why, when their worlds as they know it burn down or flood are they so calm?

Prayer. God. Love. Service.

All I can do from where I sit is pray. Constantly. For these people I love. And what I hear from them is. "Thank you for your prayers. They have truly been felt and we have seen miracles."

And that is really all that can be said. God hears. He answers. And amidst the chaos, He will send peace and love. He will send angels and you will witness miracles.

Friday, August 25, 2017

I Hope She Loses

Dale started soccer.

When I asked her to get ready, I soon hear crying and whining coming from her room.

Me (after 10ish minutes): What's up?
Dale through angry tears: (exasperated gesture toward shin guards) THEY LOOK LIKE BOOTS
Me: .......................
Dale continues to rant: THIS ISN'T WHAT THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE!
Me: Oh. What are they supposed to look like?
Dale: NOT THIS!
Me: Do you remember what they looked like when you tried them on?
Dale: YEHhhssss (read that one phonically)
Me: Well, I'm sorry you're so disappointed, but I think you'll be glad you have them on.

(What the?)
Of all the stupid things!

I hope soccer is wonderful for her. I hope it toughens her up (in all the right ways). Shows her how important teamwork and communication is (she's kind of a bossy pants right now). And teaches her hard work and endurance. In only the way a team sport can. We have our methods, but there are some things that team sports teach way more effectively.

I'm excited for her to win some. And I'm excited for her to lose. This girl does not know how to lose. And in life, sometimes (probably mostly) you lose. And that's ok. It's really about what you do after you lose that matters most.




Thursday, August 24, 2017

This. So much this.

I think every couple, problems or not, should have a little bit of counseling. We have some friends, who received marriage counselling as their wedding gift from her parents. I'm stealing that idea.

The whole 'don't go to bed angry' stuff is crap. Couples who fight? Great! No problem!

I read this. You should too. It is 6 Healthy Relationship Habits Most People Think are Toxic. It is brilliantly worded and put so many of my rambling thoughts into place.

If the link doesn't open I posted the article on my Facebook Page here

Let them live

I'm not one of those moms who hangs on to summer for all it's worth.

I actually try to be.

I'm not.

I'm actually just as giddy as they are for the first day of school.

I await it with eager anticipation. For that moment to watch my kiddos run up to school, greet friends, turn back, and (with surprising loudness) yell "I LOVE YOU MOOOOMMM!"

It wasn't always this way. I cried the first day...possibly week...maybe more...dropping them off at preschool, and even kindergarten. But this year, I almost made a paper chain to count down the days.

Do I love them less than those who want them by their side constantly? I had a little mom guilt about how excited to send them to school I was. Until the first day of school came, and I was just as excited for them to come back from school and hear all about it.

I was excited to make cookies and excited to hear about their conquers and their fails.

I've decided, after all we've learned over the past two years about the damage Husband's parents have done, that I want my kids to live. I want to be a part of it, but I do not want to control it.

I want to share the happy and embrace the sad, but I do not want to own the happy and erase the sad.

Their lives are theirs to live, and I'm so proud to watch them run up to that school, and I'm so happy they run just as fast back to me...but no way do I want to chain them back from either of those things.

Live kidlets. Enjoy life and live...and eat cookies!

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Remember, it's worth it.

A picture popped up on my personal Facebook newsfeed today. It was of the kidlets the day we drove away from our old house to start our journey that kind of started the unravelling of everything (which then started the excruciating reweaving of our lives).
Their sweet faces were in complete and utter pain and sadness at leaving their home.
I saw that picture and remembered. I remembered how hard it was to leave. I remembered the tears, the long hugs, the love, the sadness, the anxiety. I remembered all the emotions of leaving behind home and going into something I knew would be hard.
Little did I know just how hard.

But then I look at today.
Today was the first day of school.
Exactly two years later.
My kids' faces are full of light. Full of laughter. Full of love.
They literally ran to get to school.

They have great friends, great teachers, a great school, and are happy.

All the pain. All the tears. All the hard. It's worth it.

Pictures and the memories that come along with them that are painful, help me appreciate days like today even more. And help me remember why I'm fighting. It's so worth it.


Thursday, May 18, 2017

I just don't know

Everything seems to rise and fall around Husbands 'sexual addiction.'

I have been invisible for years. 9 to be exact. My thoughts. My actions. My dreams. Invisible.

Even now, all the recovery programs for women are to learn about the Husband's addiction and how their problem isn't about us, but instead how we can support our husbands though this difficult time of recovery. To learn about the workings of an addicted brain and why pornography or sexual addiction is just like an addiction to heroin and how we should deal with our Husbands as any other sort of addict.

Meanwhile I'm sitting over here with betrayal trauma and PTSD caused by his sexual addiction on my own. Tiptoeing around his mood swings, carefully wording requests so he doesn't feel attacked, withholding questions so he doesn't feel attacked, not explaining myself so he doesn't feel belittled, or trying to understand why he did or didn't do something because my therapist and our marriage counsellor express the importance of empathy and I'm trying my hardest. But then he can't understand why I can't get out of bed in the morning without the aid of 200mg of caffeine and even then sometimes that isn't enough. Or how it literally takes all my energy to get dressed and be in my kids' classrooms to try and be present in their lives so when he comes home you'd better believe I'm past exhausted, the dishes are still dirty in the sink...from two days ago...and the laundry is maybe washed (I'd better be recognized for that if it happens) but not folded...and I most likely am back in bed, but I damned well did the best I could because the voices in my head told me to forget it all because I'm not worth it. Because HE cheated on me with a screen, but he's an addict so it's different than a love affair because his brain has been transformed and it's not about me.

But all that doesn't seem to be important. It appears I'm not trying. And I'm lazy. Even though it took literally EVERYTHING I had to do the smallest thing.

I just don't know folks. I just don't get it. I just don't have the energy in me to be all that empathetic while he gets to sweep everything under the 'addict' rug and pretend like he didn't pick a screen over his wife and then get mad at me for having depression and treating it like its a huge burden to him.

I just don't know.





Wednesday, May 10, 2017

It's been awhile

Image result for dandelion puff ball

I've thought a lot about this blog over the last several months and have wanted to post thoughts, but I sunk into a pretty deep depression, and it's been more than difficult to get up to get the kids to school then home to sleep until I have to pick them up again. So the effort to put words into a computer was too much. All energy I had, went into the kids, and even energy I didn't have. My kids are amazing.

With the help of a nutritionist and a neurologist and a psychologist, I am working toward not sleeping every day away, and I have at least one, sometimes two productive days a week now.

Husband and I have been seeing a counsellor. It's been hard. She said something yesterday "I wonder if perhaps fixing a house and fixing a marriage is too much." And she might just be right. She's been good. Slow for me, because I just can't handle much. I've been broken. I have felt my spirit and my heart and my mind break.

We saw the house as a symbol of fixing our marriage. And as we worked together on the house and fixed it, our marriage would also heal...symbolically I guess.
It's not.

We are further apart than when we started. With toxic in-laws and their narcissistic and emotional and psychological abuse, Husband's pornography/sexual addiction and my spiral into a dark depression it is a fight to even care let alone thrive.

So, I'd love to start back into blogging. It may be slow and pretty unremarkable and insignificant.

But, I'm hopeful (like a fool...) that we've hit the bottom (again) and we are on our way up.

Fingers crossed.