The Story of Praying

Well, you almost had me fooled

Told me that I was nothing without you
Oh, but after everything you've done
I can thank you for how strong I have become

He and I were separated the majority of our marriage, either by choice or because of his incarceration for various reasons. At one point while he was in jail, he would call me collect on my cell a lot, promising changes, a different life, how much he realized he loved me, how he would change. He wrote letters, sent them to my office. Some were love letters, and some were more threatening letters where he would address the letter to me using my maiden name opposed to my married name, his last name. It was just another way to mess with my head, my heart, push me like only he knew how.

As a Christian, I struggled with getting divorced and if I would be sinning. I read verse after verse in the Bible late at night as I lay in my childhood bedroom in my parent's house. Some nights convincing myself that it was ok to get divorced, other nights convincing myself it was ok to stay and what I SHOULD do. I did not want to sin against God, I didn't want to be considered an adulterer if I got remarried one day. I prayed daily, nightly, sometimes hourly - "GOD - WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO???" I would ask for signs. Play mind games with myself. If he says such & such tonight, I'll stay. If he doesn't say such & such I won't. If we go a week without him calling me a crazy bitch, if he hurts me one more time, if he comes home by 9pm, the list goes on and on. I just needed an answer, and I wasn't strong enough to make that decision for myself. Obviously, one day I made that decision, and that's for another story. 

I do believe that part of forgiving someone, or the real attempts to, involve praying for them. Praying for you. So sometimes I do pray for him. I pray that he turns his life around. I pray he quits drinking, that he realizes he is a child of God and he is loved and he is worthy of better. He may act like he is IT, but deep down I know he is a broken soul. Unfortunately it doesn't seem that way as of right now. I pray for the children he has had and left fatherless in the biological sense, for the women he's left to support children without the child support they deserve. I don't think I'll be able to ever completely forgive him. I just was telling Brian yesterday about how I was going to write this, and said - "How can I forgive someone who after 11 years of being divorced from, I'm still blogging about, having nightmares from, still healing from?" That's why Kesha's new song and her lyrics are so powerful - some things only God can forgive. 

I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin'
I hope your soul is changin', changin'
I hope you find your peace
Falling on your knees, prayin'

Oh, sometimes, I pray for you at night
Someday, maybe you'll see the light
Oh, some say, in life, you're gonna get what you give
But some things only God can forgive

The story of the unused razor blade

I was so stuck...do I stay? Leave? Can I fix him? I'm his wife...reading "Power of a Praying" wife. I could pray so hard that he would remember that he loved me and why he married me. Surely he didn't mean all those things he said. Those things he did. He's just tired. Just hungover. Just stressed. I don't love him enough, I don't show my love enough. What am I doing wrong?? Constant back and forth. I couldn't go on like this. There is so much shame. You feel so alone. You can't tell many people, or rather, you feel like you can't. It's such a lonely, lonely place.

I decided to try and get his attention. If I died, or almost died, then he'd feel so bad and straighten up. He'd really love me then. He'd feel bad...you see how sick this position makes you think. That it is your fault. 

I don't remember the specific day...but all of a sudden I found myself sitting on the toilet, with the lid down. The door locked - he was "recovering" on the couch. Razor in hand. I was sitting there, imagining how bad he'd feel - hopefully. I never made a cut, not even a scratch...but the point is that it drove me to that point. You can have so many people in your life that LOVE you...that if they knew what was going on, they would drag your rear end out of there. 

I know that now...but you're in a bubble. And only those that have lived in that bubble, can understand what I mean. Physical, verbal, emotional, mental abuse - alone or all together have such power. It's almost as if you become addicted to something you never meant to try. 

I know a lot of this post was just rambling, but I was back at that state in my head, where it was a bunch of scrambling around. 

If you are living that bubble right now, and feel like you are alone - you are not. First of all you're never alone because God never leaves your side. But I'M HERE. Even if you don't know me, I'M HERE. I've lived that bubble. Call me - 615-509-1539 - or text. 

The story of the high speed chase

He had been missing, gone, for at least a week this time. He wouldn't answer the phone. Wouldn't text back. Not even an "I'm ok". The timeline of our marriage in my head is so blurred I don't even know what month this was. I'm pretty sure it was after tax season though, so possibly May of 2005. But those are just minor details.

I took the day off of work to stay home and attempt at focusing enough that I could study for the part of the CPA exam I had coming up. I was sitting at the dining room table. We had a bay window & the house sat up on a hill so I could easily see down to the culdesac. I remember the sound of the garage door opening and I looked out the window and there was his truck. That damn truck I had to pay the note on because it was in my name.

However, he wasn't expecting to see my car when he opened the garage door - he thought I'd be gone to work. I ran out the door and they were backing out of the driveway & closing the garage door. The girl he had been sleeping with. I had never seen her face. AND she was driving! Driving THE CAR I PAID FOR. I saw red.

If you can imagine, you see your husband, who you haven't seen or heard of in over a week, finally show up. Then he tries to run away. I flew down to my car as fast as I could. I don't even think I put shoes on. I flew down my driveway, it bottomed out at the pavement, and I started chasing them. Out of the neighborhood, down the street and up to the on ramp of the interstate. I'm honking the whole time. We get on the interstate, and I pull up next to them, and I see her. Why her? What is she doing that I'm not? What is so wrong with me?

I'm yelling PULL OVER! PULL OVER NOW! They're both flicking me off and I see him laughing. We get up to almost 100 mph on I-24. She's mouthing "CRAZY BITCH" at me. Who knows what lies he told her about me. But she was right, I was crazy. It makes you CRAZY. Do things you would normally never do.

After a few miles I just let them go. What was I going to do? Wreck us? I went back home. Cried. Yelled. Screamed. I felt crazy insane and completely alone and helpless. I don't remember when he came back after that. 

But apparently I forgave him and believed his "I'm sorry"'s, because this story continued on for at least another year. That's one of the things about domestic, emotional, psychological abuse. It's a cycle. A vicious cycle. And so so hard to get off the merry go round.