im·plode imˈplōd/Submit verb 1. collapse or cause to collapse violently inward.

                                                                             

My dearest SuperHeroes,

I'm BACK!! Phew! Yes, I'm alive.  I have missed you.  I have thought about you.  I have prayed for you.  And oh, heavens, I have been busy.  I have had HUGE life changes happen and it's taken a while to let the dust settle.  I moved to a completely new location, knowing a couple of people, but letting God direct my path.  I have started a new job, with my brain learning and growing a new field, which I LOVE.  I have been a momma to my kids full time, as my ex husband has been trying to move to my new location as well, with visits whenever he can.  So pretty much, I had to take a step back, put on my cape, and with all my strength and might, be a real-life Superhero to my kids and myself during this huge transition.

As you have been in my thoughts, and here we are the day before Halloween, I have seen so many cute SuperHero costumes on kiddos at school and shopping.  I couldn't help but think of MY Superheroes--YOU.  And as I have met so many amazing people in my new location, I thought of a particular conversation with a friend, who is going through a divorce as well.  One comment that she made, struck a chord, made me think of you, and now I need to share.  She was telling me that on the "Outside" of her marriage everything looked perfect (according to our religion) how a family SHOULD look.  Especially a husband and wife.

But her marriage was imploding.

IMPLODING. That word pummeled me.  My friend nailed it.

MY marriage imploded.  We both let it happen.

Dictionary.com Definition of Implode:

To burst inward (opposite of explode)

Have you ever seen a building, right before it's imploded?

The building looks perfectly normal before, doesn't it? It looks functional, well built, on a solid foundation....suitable.  BUT what happens on the inside? Dynamite is placed all over the building in strategic spots, and with the push of a button, it's leveled.  No more functional building.  Ir-repairable.  

As soon as my friend shared this with me, I could instantly relate!!  For 16 years, sticks of dynamite were being place in strategic parts of my marriage.  Not on purpose.  But they were there.  Waiting to be lit.  On the outside of our marriage, everything looked fabulous, as I've stated before.  I made sure of that! I am to blame.  I knew that there was dynamite on the inside, but the outside looked spectacular.  Perfect house. Perfect kids.  Perfect wife.  Perfect life.  

Except for those sticks of dynamite.  

Then, one day, with a push of the button, I lit those dynamite sticks and our outward perfect life crumbled.  Our marriage imploded.  Because of those dynamite sticks that were never removed.  Our marriage leveled.  

Now.  Let's think about this.  Could I have removed those sticks of dynamite?  Certainly.  I've said before, that if I would have nipped his behavior in the bud, early on, perhaps we would be married still.  But I feel that in my situation, it was just too late.  The implosion happened and it was over.  And now, almost 2 years later, the dust has settled, the big move and life change has happened, and I am rebuilding a NEW building, dynamite free.  It's going to be spectacular.  With the shiniest outside, and equally beautiful, FUNCTIONAL, inside.  It's hard work.  Exhausting.  But it's happening.  

Now we are going to talk about you, my Super Heroes.  AS I've stated before, I'm not a supporter of divorce.  I'm a supporter of YOU. And your happiness.  

Are there sticks of dynamite in your marriage? Strategically placed, waiting for that push of a button?  You might want to think about removing those.  Delicately.  Being sensitive as to why they were placed there.  Asking for help and support from your Dynamite Placer, you and your significant other.    With care, caution, effort and support, those sticks of dynamite can be removed and the building of your marriage can remain standing.  And as it looks perfect on the outside, maybe it's time to do a little housecleaning, making it equally as beautiful on the inside.  

What if you can't take it? The dynamite is stuck and your supporter doesn't want to assist you in clearing them out? What if you pushed that button and the implosion has begun? Don't fret, my friends.  This is when you rely on the SuperHero strength that you've been given.  Everything is going to crumble.  It will seem as if the world has ended.  It will look like a battle ground.  Dust and debris will be scattered.  This is the time that you need to be on your knees, praying, that God will get you through.  Because He knows that you're worth it.  RELY on Him to get you through.  He will.  I promise.  I was just there.  

And before you know it, the dust will settle, and you can begin rebuilding your new life.  Make it more grand.  Make it more sparkly.  Make it more happy.  Oh yeah......worry about the outside later.  I was talking about the inside. Wink.  

Because once the inside is more grand, more sparkly and more happy, you'll notice that you didn't have to work as hard on the outside.  It will naturally shine.

You're amazing, my friends.  You can do this.  Life is hard, but when you're a SuperHero? 

You're unstoppable.  

I love you.

Strengthly yours, 

aMOMynous

Happiness and Love: Don't Leave Home Without Them!

Dear Superheroes,

Hello Summer!! What we look forward to during those long winter months!!  Now we are enjoying the hot weather, sun-screened and sun-kissed skin, making memories with our families and loved ones...and now we're heading back to school.  There.  I said it.  Stores are already selling the list items so I knew I could mention  it.  I know, people, I'm crying with you.  The part of the year that we look so forward to, just flies by, doesn't it?  Time does fly when you're having fun! Hang on to those memories.  Laugh with your kiddos, your spouse, your friends all around you.  Because before you know it, it will be back to carpools, backpacks, sign up sheets, lunches...schedules!!! I just threw up in my mouth. ;)

I love traveling.  I always have.  I love road trips, flying on airplanes, hotel staying and adventures.  There is nothing more fun than packing up a suitcase and a car and heading to adventure.  Can you relate? Maybe some of you can.

Back to my story......

I remember one trip that we took as a family that was magical.  My husband at the time, had a couple of work meetings in a town about 4 hours away.  He needed to stay in a hotel, so we thought we would make a vacation out of it and take the whole family.  We packed up the car and headed out.  Everything was perfect! The hotel room was fancy schmancy because the company was paying for it, of course! My kids loved that they could look out over the water.  And wouldn't you know it, one of my friends was unable to attend a traveling Broadway show in that city and sold her tickets to us so we could go have a night on the town, and the kids could relax and play in the hotel room.

*Disclaimer: My oldest was old enough at this point to watch the younger ones. :) *

I remember loving this trip because it was spontaneous and I was able to see a show I had been dying to see.  Even though I had been an empty shell of sadness, this was a bright spot.  My kids still remember that hotel to this day.

Then I remember another trip.......

We had a couple of couple friends that we enjoyed doing things together.  My husband wasn't much of a social bird, so he didn't really want to get together that often, so sometimes I would go solo, or bring my kids, or sometimes I could convince him to come with me.

Well, we all decided that it would be fun to go to Mexico together.  I immediately figured that my husband wouldn't want to go, but when he expressed commitment to going, I couldn't contain my excitement!!!  You see, he preferred to stay at home, he was a homebody and it was usually me that was adventurous to go and see places!! So I don't blame him and his wishes and I don't blame mine! Just two people desiring to do two different things.

But this trip we were on the same page.  How exciting!!! I worked very hard in getting passports, packing and getting ready for an adventure of a lifetime!! Could it really be real that he wanted to go? Well, a few days before we were to depart to tropical paradise, I got the worst news ever.  He was in a bit of a depressed mood, he hadn't lost the weight he had hoped to, and he became very self-conscious.  So self-conscious and depressed that he decided to bail on the trip we had been planning for months.  Bailing!!!! I started Wailing!!! He told me to take my best girlfriend, that I would want to be with her anyway, that he would be no fun.  I did my best to convince him to get past all of his insecurities.  To no avail.  I decided that I needed to be a supportive wife and stay home with him.  I vividly remember later that day that I went to my best friend's house, stood on her doorstep and cried, letting her know that we weren't going.  We didn't get a reimbursement, as we had already paid for the trip.

I remember that I felt so sad.  So  completely devastated.  Something that I had been talking about, planning and preparing for fell through because of the fear of his weight on the beach.  Our friends ended up having a great time and making so many memories.  But boy, I can remember the way it made me feel.  Pretty darn lousy.

So I have a point to these two stories.

It wasn't ALWAYS pain and anger and sadness that went on in our marriage.  We had good times.  We would laugh and make memories, etc.  But when the pain and anger and sadness following would happen, it would be as if no time had passed since the instance before.

That's why emotional and verbal abuse are so difficult to detect.  Because it's NOT always meanness, anger, and fighting.  It's the whole cycle thing that we've talked about before.   You could go for days, weeks, months without any type of argument.  But when that argument happens, look out.  It won't be pretty.

So here is what I want you to do, my sweetest SuperHeroes:

I want to you notice a pattern.  Watch closely and observe.  Look for triggers that might start up an explosion.  Just observe and take notes.  You might not even notice a pattern, but you might notice a particular subject that gets him/her heated.  Or day of the week.  Whatever it may be, take notice.

Then use that to your advantage.  When you find out the "trigger" get ready.  Be prepared to shut the verbal/emotional operation down.  Confront it.  Point out that trigger.  Suggest your loved one to watch for him/herself, if  they are willing.  Don't be afraid.  Have that courage.

Because you don't have to live each day, wondering if it will happen today.

I want you to live each day to YOUR fullest.  YOUR happiest.  Because YOU are worth it!

So worth it.

Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

Any reason to put JT on a blog title and I'm going to use it! But there's a good reason, my friends:)

My strong, SUPEHERO friends,

I'm here.  I promise.  I haven't deserted you, although it's been a few weeks.  But you have been on my mind most of the time.  As you know, I have kids....and we are having to do so many "end of the year things" aren't we? I can't keep track of the field trip slips,  who brings what to the end of year party, and the projects and reports that are due!! And I just got finished steaming by daughter's dance costume in the bathroom with a hot shower running.  At 12:30 a.m.  But I'm a momma.  That's just how we do.  ;)

And now you.  All of you.  The story must go on.  I need to share.  We are in this together.  And guess what?  I am getting messages, comments, emails.  I have cried as you, my readers have related to my experience, leaving you raw, vulnerable but NOT alone.  May I share a snippet from one friend:

Dear Amomynous - wow....that pretty much sums it up. My best friend sent me the link to your blog, and I stayed up til 1am to read all of your posts. I wanted to reach out to you and say thank you. My own story is very very similar to yours. I have been working up the courage and strength to leave my husband (who I have been with for 19 years, since I was 17 yrs old) for the last several years. All of the puzzle pieces finally seem to be coming together and I now truly feel I can leave with peace in my heart knowing I tried EVERYTHING in my power to make it work. Your blog is so powerful...sharing your story is so brave. I am just one person you have touched. It means so much to me. I would love to connect with you via email or even by phone sometime. I just wanted to say from the bottome of my heart ~ thank you!!! ~(name is withheld)

Wow.

Wow.

Wow, friends.

You are NOT alone. I am NOT alone. My strong, brave friend recognizes that she is NOT alone. And although, I will repeat myself, I do not advocate divorce (I advocate doing the BEST you can, with what you have and if what you have is unfixable, then take the necessary steps to becoming the happiest YOU can be, with the most peace in your heart).

To my friend that wrote me that comment: THANK YOU. Thank you for touching me. Giving me the strength that I needed. And I hope your peace continues to grow in your heart. You are amazing. And you are so worth it. You are sooooo worth it.

We continue.....

I'm an empty shell, remember? Having a hard time on Mother's Day, right? Right. Deep Breath. Spillage of my guts:

So here I was, mother of 4 young ones...sucking me dry every day (literally, I was breastfeeding.....well, and sucking my day dry--ha!). I was the president of the teenage girls in my ward, my husband was in a high calling in the church, I was volunteering in the community, schools, etc. Yep, I probably was overdoing it, and that could have put a strain on my marriage...I wasn't spending enough time with my husband. So later on, we decided to attend a place of worship early one Saturday morning. It was a morning date and we made a goal to do this every other Saturday. I was on board. I wanted the blessings. Heck, friends....I needed the gates of heaven to open up and perform some sort of miracle!! Send in the forces! That's what I needed! My soul was shrinking and shriveling.....just like my after-breastfeeding chest. Yep, I just went there.

So here we were, one Saturday morning. We had a little over an hour to drive. And I was in trouble. Again, I can't remember for what-I really believe that it was over money. Possibly that I wasn't handling the finances correctly and I needed to do a better job-I heard that a lot. But that's the last thing I wanted to hear on a Saturday morning. Was how horrible of a person I was, that I couldn't even keep us out of the red. Ugh. I felt horrible. Then, he said, hands down the most hurtful thing that cut through my soul, pierced my heart and I am honestly striving to forgive him to this day. He made a very derogatory comment about our upcoming worship service, asking me not to participate because it would be embarrassing for him if he was forced to participate in it. I started crying. Really hard. I got those chest pains that I would get, when I was told what a horrible person I was. The tears started spilling over. I looked down, where I was studying my scriptures.....all I can remember is the drops splashing down on them. I cried in silence, hoping he wouldn't see. But he looked over and got extremely upset that I was crying over THAT? And that I cry over everything. And that I'm too sensitive. And that he can't have a regular conversation with me without me crying.

Friends. My tears stopped that day. After that episode, I knew that I needed to hold in the tears and never let them fall over my cheeks again. After all, I was too sensitive. I needed to toughen up. Grow a pair. It was my fault that I would get so upset. I had a really difficult time crying after that. It took a lot, or otherwise I would go hide and cry a river. Or do that pillow crying that I was so good at. Cotton sure can absorb tears well. But I just quickly came to believe that once again, it was all my fault.  The finances, the tears, the sensitivity.  And then we were headed to the worship service, where I plastered on that smile and acted as if nothing were ever wrong, when I was dying with those chest pains inside.  I remember that took a long time to recover from that one.  Even to this day.  I have my tear marked scripture verses that have my wet tear stains. 

Okay, I'm not sure if you're crying right now.  If you are, IT IS OKAY.  Cry friends! Cry!  Let it out!  It's healthy, it's natural, and you are NOT too sensitive. You need to release those little cells of sadness so that you can replace them with happiness.  And if you're a scientist, you probably just dry heaved because I really do know that there aren't sad cells and happy cells.  I know, I know.  It just sounds clever:).

And now, friends, here's what you do.  Stand up to your loved one and tell him/her to "Cry me a River" Justin Timberlake style.  (He's my secret boyfriend.  And he doesn't even know it-ha!)  Tell them that you are allowed to cry any time, day or night, that it's healthy and good, it is needed and that is why God gave us tear ducts.  Tell them that you ARE sensitive and indeed, that is a gift.  A precious gift.   And you are the lucky person that has that gift and it should be cherished and taken care of.  Tell it, sing it, preach it and LOVE it.  You can do it.  


Oh sweet friends, you CAN do it.  I have the utmost faith in you.  God knows you.  He has the ut-utmost faith in you.  

One of my favorite quotes, of which my momma reminds me frequently:

"If you could see yourself the way God sees you, you would walk taller, reach higher and never be the same again."  I love it.  

Starting tonight, here's my challenge:  Don't be the same again.  Invite YOU back into your life.  Allow God to show you yourself the way He sees you.  And then cry.  A river.  Float down that river on an inner tube.  

Then square those shoulders back.  

Walk taller.  

Reach higher.  

And don't let anyone tell you how to be.  YOU be YOU.

Strong, courageous, superhero-ey, beautiful, wonderful and AMAZING.  Because what you are going through defines you with all of those adjectives.  You.  Are.  Amazing.!!!

Believe it.  

Strengthly Yours,

aMOMynous

SuperHero YOU!! To the Rescue! Happy Mother's Day:)

My dear SuperMOM friends,

Okay, I'm dedicating this one to you strong, superhero MOMS out there.  Men, you are cordially invited to nod your head and agree with all that is said in this blog!  Because you're still important, too.  It's just that we need to focus on you mommas, in light of today's holiday!!

I hope and pray you have had a wonderful day.  That you have realized that you are so important!  Whether you have small children, no children, grown children, not your own children....you get my drift.  YOU are so unique in your own different way that it is so obvious to me how NEEDED and IMPORTANT you are in this life.  There's a day to celebrate that fact!! I wish I would have know my future self now a few years ago...........

I remember dreading Mother's Day.  May I remind you that I felt like a failure in every aspect of a human being, let along being a mom.  I loved my kids so much I could hardly stand it.  But the comparison game would always creep in.  And I would listen to the negativity that was told to me and believed every syllable of it.  My friend A had it all together and cooked gourmet meals every night in a spotless house.  My friend B rolled around with her kids while they laughed and giggled and adored her.  My friend C would hug and kiss her husband and provide the house with a spirit of love every day.  And then there was Lame Mommy Me.  After seeing and witnessing my perfect friends, believing the not so nice things that were told to me and scanning my messy house, I dreaded the day to celebrate me, the Failure.  Mother's Day could never get over fast enough....except for that nap.  I always got the nap and those were two glorious hours to myself.  But then I would go to church and hear how perfect all the mommies were and I would feel even worse.  My husband at the time would try really hard to provide a good day.  But I already felt horrible about who I was, I surely didn't want a day centered around that!!

I remember one year, when he was in a high position calling in our church, he had gotten upset with me that morning on Mother's Day, before church.  Of course, I can't remember what it was (and I have since learned that this is a side effect, if you will, of those that have been abused.  They just can't remember the specific situation, but they remember how they felt).  He then left to go to church and his meetings.  I had a little bit of a cry, but believed it all.  So I took my kids to church and sat in the pew.  He then stood up and talked about how wonderful I was, that I'm a saint to put up with him,  that he couldn't have asked for a better person than his wife and so on and so forth.  Really? Wait, about 2 hours ago, I was in trouble for things that I was doing wrong.  Now I'm an angel sent to him?  Wait.  I couldn't understand, but the Praise from the Pulpit was good.  And I liked it.  I learned to look forward to the Pulpit Praising days....because it helped me to forget how he had made me feel at home.  Where no one was watching or listening.  This is when I realized that there was a sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde syndrome going on.  He would act good and kind and loving one moment, then the next, turn into a completely different person. It was hard to follow and hard to keep track of and I never knew which facet of a husband I was going to get.  So I basically lived in a state of confusion.  Believing everything Angry Husband would tell me and then believing everything Kind Husband would tell me.  I was a mixed bag of tricks, let me tell ya.  Never knowing who or what to believe.

What a horrible way to live!! Mother's Day should have been all about celebrating the fact that I birthed these children and happened to adore them at the same time.  That I have a mother that birthed me and I adore her.  Instead, I didn't even know how to feel.  Lame Numb Me.

So how did I snap out of it?  Well, friends.  I'm learning.  But one thing that I learned very quickly was to LOVE MYSELF.  Holiday or not.  Love who I am, wekanesses and mistakes included.  Love the fact that I am a breathing soul who has one title to these children that I love: Mom.  No one else in the world is their mom but me.  And that goes for you too.  You are so valuable in the eyes of your children, God and me.  You have no idea.  You are the SuperHero to your children.  But SuperHeroes need to believe in themselves first before they can go saving those around them.

So here is my challenge, post Celebration of You Day.  Look deep within yourself.  Reflect.  Get to know Fabulous You.  Fall in love with yourself.  Not romantically, obviously.  But let yourself LOVE the person that is the reflection in the mirror.  You can do it.  Look past the faults you think you have. Look for that spark.  It's there.  Ignite it.  Let it grow.  Let it shine.  Let US meet Superhero You.

Because that's exactly what you are.  And your world is waiting to see it......

You are amazing.

Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

How the SHELL are you?

Hello, my strong friends! Happy Wednesday! I figure that a lot of you amazing people will read this in the morning, even though it's Tuesday night for me.

How are you?  How is your strength? How is your worth? How is your HAPPINESS? I'm checking in on you in that motherly-nagging-annoying-won't-leave-you-alone way that I told you about earlier.    I hope that it is on the uphill.  I hope and PRAY that you are recognizing your worth, your potential, your STRENGTH.  You ARE Superheroes, aren't you?  You take Avengers to a whole new level.  Because you have had to endure years that Ironman wouldn't have the strength for;  have had to endure unfathomable trials that Captain America would most like cringe at,  and have had to face your own self with power unlike any amount Thor would ever have.  Thor.  Should we talk about him and his handsomeness for a while? haha....kidding.  This about YOU.  Thor can wait.  But, oh my, he's so cute.  ;)

So before I continue on with my story, I have been thinking.  A lot.  Can I throw out some numbers? Here it goes: My Facebook page has had about 300 views on this Blog.  My blogger page has had nearly 1,500.  And then my gmail group circle thingy has had over 3,000.  I have done zero advertising.  In fact, because my budget is so tight, I can't do any advertising.  This is ALL word of mouth, invites and those people that happen to stumble on this blog.  Simply amazing.  Can you see the need out there?  There are so many silently struggling friends that it makes me want to hug all 4,800ish people and tell them that they are going to be okay.  And all of you should rest easy with some peace knowing that you are not alone.  Holy cow.  Neither am I.  

So I continue my story:

Here I was.  A mother of 4!!! I felt extremely outnumbered, but as I said in my last story post, that fourth child of mine brought such a sunshine and happiness and I just couldn't get enough of that baby.  But my problems, although I couldn't pinpoint them, were still there.  I was still crying a lot.  Wetting that pillow.  I was starting to become an empty shell........

Let's talk about the Empty Shell Syndrome (yah, I just totally made that up....maybe I should copyright it and make millions? haha)  You know how you find a beautiful shell on the beach?  It's almost like a miniature conch shell.  You examine it.  The outside is flawless; white and sparkling.  Perhaps with a little color.  You hold it in your hands....you find the opening of the shell and put your ear to it, thinking that you will hear the ocean.  And sometimes you do, don't you? But we all know that there is absolutely nothing in that shell.  It's empty.  Perhaps there was life that lived inside that shell at one time, but it's gone.  Empty.  The only thing that's beautiful is the outside of the shell, for everyone to admire and look at.

World, meet me.  The Empty Shell Girl.

Yes, on the "outside" it sure looked like I had my act together.  Exercising, serving, leading, smiling, loving, happy and cheerful.  Hold that outer shell to your ear and listen.  On the inside, there was nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  I was quickly becoming empty on the inside.  Taking care of 4 kids......That's a lot!!  But that's not why I became empty.  The diapers, tantrums and puke were all part of the frustrating part of motherhood, but you would probably agree with me that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.  It wasn't that.  It was my marriage that was becoming more and more strained.  The husband was in a high calling in our Church and I was the president of the young girls. Oh my goodness.  That made my outside so sparkly and happy.  My kids, doing funny things, made me glow on the outside.  So why was I feeling so empty?  It was those words that were spoken to me that sucked everything out of me.

I remember a family picture that we took at the in laws house during a family gathering.  He had gotten mad at me for a certain reason that of course I can't remember.  I think this time it was finances because I found myself needing a navy blue shirt to match the rest of my family.  I felt so guilty about spending any type of money because I was "horrible" at finances that I found a shirt at Wal-mart on the clearance rack for $3.  I was so proud that I had spent little or no money.  But I remember thinking in the check out line that I wasn't even worth the $3.  I was a loser.  A poor financier.  A failure.

Empty.

I have looked back at that picture, even recently.  We look like the perfect "shell" of a family.  Sparkly, matchy, smiley, happy.  We are perfect, right?  I have studied my face.  I remember feeling so worthless, helpless and hopeless that day.  My eyes say it all.  They were sadly calling out for help, "I'm empty everyone! Help me!"

I think that one of the very huge mistakes that I made was making sure everyone knew about my sparkly, happy outer layer.  I didn't want ANYONE to hold up my shell to their ears to find out there was nothing inside.

Disclaimer:  Some might argue that my head is a lot like a shell with no brain inside.  Sometimes I might have to agree with that.  Let's just get that out there.  We are not focusing on my IQ here, rather my heart, my soul, my spirit.  LOL!!  THAT empty shell....wink.

So when I finally decided that I wanted to separate and then later divorce, so many people were shocked and confused because I looked to happy and sparkly and perfect.  I did a really good job at distracting those around me with my outward self that I didn't allow anyone to see the emptiness that was slowly engulfing me.

So how is your shell, friends?  Can you relate to how I was feeling?  I think that we all do that, to an extent.  We never want anyone to truly know what is going on in our lives.  But instead of focusing out the sparkly outside, we need to focus on what is living and what ISN'T on the inside. What is inside of you, my beautiful sparkly friends?

Here is my challenge that I will issue to you this week:

Reach out.  To someone close.  Perhaps even your husband.  Let that person know that you're struggling on the inside.  That you might even be a little empty.  That you need some sort of help inviting breath and life back into your shell.  Seek out help and little by little, your emptiness will be no more as you earnestly strive to fill your beautiful shell.

Because if I remember correctly, all it takes is a little piece of sand to produce one of the most precious gems on earth inside of a shell in the ocean.  Get that little piece of sand in there, let faith and God work their mighty miracles and before you know it, your beautiful inside will far outweigh that sparkly outer shell.

Always remember that you are precious.  And you are a gem.  And you, my friends, are so worth it.

Sparkly and Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

Super Heroes Need Refills Too!

Oh my strong friends,

How have you been? As I posted on my FB account, I had to "disappear" for a couple of months, to protect my kiddos and loved ones.  But I'm going to be honest, because that's how I do.  I've missed you.  I've missed the connection.  I've missed sharing my thoughts with you, hopefully settling your minds and hearts to a peaceful state, knowing that you're not alone.  You've helped me, too.  Somehow sharing my thoughts has been so therapeutic, knowing that I'm not alone either.  Here we are, united again, and I'm not going anywhere this time.:)  So before getting back into my story, I thought that I would refill you in on my thoughts and feelings about this whole muddy of a mess of a situation that we are in.  Because you can't just quench your thirst one single delicious drink at a restaurant....you need refills! Reminders of how good it tastes, feels and how satisfying it is!  I need a pop.  Soda.  Coke.  However you term it, I'm thirsty.

Ahhhhh, refreshing.  With my pop/soda/coke at my side......here we go.

Refill #1: YOU ARE NOT ALONE.  I want to reiterate that and write it in the sky.  You might feel physically alone, with everyone out of the house, in the process of divorce.  Or you might feel emotionally alone,  with husband and kids running circles around you.  I'm a believer of God and I want you to remember that you are never alone without Him.  He will always be there.  For you.  For me.  For the abuser.  He's there.  The minute you feel all by yourself, drop to your knees and ask for help.  You'll be surprised because I know you'll get that help.  If it takes something as simple as going on an errand, with the intent to make conversation with someone, then that means you haven't been alone.  And you probably made that person's day, usually most customers don't like to talk and are in a rush!  Whatever it is, if you are feeling that way, I will introduce a math concept to our blog:

Feeling alone + praying your way through it = tender mercies will flow, just look.

(We just did  a word problem! We've got this! haha)

Refill #2:  YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOU THINK YOU ARE.  You're a superhero, remember? Tap into that strength to let yourself build up, get stronger and prepare to handle whatever might lie ahead.  

It's confession time, friends.  About a month ago, I took that cape off.  I went through a horrific and heartbreaking situation, only because it involved one of my children and what they were being told by their certain parent figure and there was NOTHING I could do about it.  That hopeless feeling where my arms went limp and every nerve cringed because I couldn't help one of my babies.  I was weak, exhausted and cried a lot because my little one didn't need to have such a heavy adult issue burdening their precious mind.  I went to the gym to work off the frustration and had a complete panic attack.  I felt like I was going to fall off of the elliptical.  I couldn't breathe, I thought the world was going to come crashing down and worst of all, I thought I would break a bone falling off of the machine and then an ambulance would have to come and get me.  That would be so embarrassing.....So I prayed!! Something like this, "God, I'm about to make a complete fool out of myself, please make the panic attack stop and send blood to my head NOW!"  Then, my tender mercy momma, who must have received inspiration to text me, sent me something like this: "You are stronger than you think you are, my daughter. You can do this." Can you believe that? Coincidental timing? I think not.  The panic attack subsided.  No ambulance and flailing body....phew!  But I knew that I was letting the kryptonite take over and make me weak, I needed to get that cape back on prove my strength.  So I did, with the help of my answered prayer, through my amazing mom.  And now I might be a little bit stronger now, too.  Just sayin....;)

Potty break time....these refills are going right through us! ha!

Refill #3:  YOU CAN DO THIS!! It's all about moving forward.  And I feel that I should remind you that once again, I am not an advocate of divorce.  If you absolutely adore your hubs, just hate the temper, there's hope.  But if you've come to a dead end and you know there's no hope, then you'll do the right thing.  It's all about baby steps, moving forward.  I believe that if you're stagnant, you're not progressing.  Even if you're falling short (like me taking my cape off and facing a near death on the elliptical) you're still moving.  But I want you to move forward.  Little by little, bit by bit.  

Last refill #4:  YOU are so important and loved.  You matter.  You are needed by your loved ones around you.  God loves you.  Look at how you're growing, becoming stronger,  and surviving.  You.  Are.  Amazing.  This is the shortest paragraph, but it's the most important one. 

And now that our thirst is quenched, I feel that my story can continue.  Stay tuned.  

Until then.......Strengthly Yours,

aMOMynous

What do you choose?

My lovely, strong friends,

So I sat down last night to blog.  I stared at a blank computer screen.  What was it that you amazing people needed to hear, to listen, to read? I stared and I stared.  It wasn't flowing through my fingertips, like it usually does.  I stared some more.  I started writing a paragraph, then laughed at my dorkiness and erased it.  I sat, propped up in my bed, with my DRY pillowcase and stared.  Then the next thing I knew, my neck was kinked to the side, there may or may not have been a little drool trickling down my cheek and my laptop was on my chest, with the bare screen.  I couldn't think of what/how I wanted to write so I made the CHOICE to close that laptop, rollover and sleep on it.  I've discovered, being single, that I have a problem.  I have 4 kiddos, 2 jobs and one me.  No sympathy, please.  I CHOSE this.  But my problem is that whenever I sit down, necks will kink, drool will trickle and electronic devices will end up on my chest.  One time I woke myself up when my phone hit my face....I know, it's bad.  But I CHOOSE to blog.  I would rather reach out, bare my soul, lose sleep, but somehow have a spring in my step the next day, knowing that I've been in contact with you.

By the way, notice the theme I'm going with tonight? Yep. Choices.  Choosing.

Because I realized that God hadn't prompted me with what I needed to write.  Until this morning, at a four way stop on my way to work.  One word: Choice.  Everyday we make millions and bazillions of choices, right? Some are important: like which bills will I pay and still keep food on the table? Others less important: do I have enough time to press the snooze button one more time? The latter is the toughest choice these days.  But all in all, we make choices everyday.  Most of which will affect our lives either that day or the future.  And we are free to choose. Some things we don't choose.......

That's where you popped into my mind, while I was tiredly remember the rule about which car goes first when we all approach the 4-way stop at the same time.  You.  Some of you didn't get to choose the single life you are now living.  Some of you, like me, chose to leave an abusive relationship.  Some of you have chosen to get help, save and salvage your marriage, which can be an immense blessing.  My children didn't get to choose their situation, but they are choosing how this situation is affecting their lives.  Then I thought of the greatest choice I made......

I CHOSE to marry my husband.  No one forced me.  I made that decision on my own.  So I shouldn't be blogging, telling my story when I chose to marry this man, right? It's true.  I did choose him.  But I did not choose the way I would be treated.  I didn't choose to the be the culprit of his anger.  I didn't choose any of that.  But I can't sit here, looking at the screen and blame him.  I chose him.  The rest was his choice.  I was the one, also, that chose how I would react.  I chose to let his words get the best of me.  I chose that.

While we were living in our beautiful dream house that I loved, I remember this being a very difficult time for my self-worth.  I had chosen to let the abuse get the best of me and my worth was in the toilet.  Something started happening in the wake of his temper and tantrums.  He would get that mean, ugly face on, do his thing with me, then leave me there to take in what had just happened.  I would usually become extremely ill the next day.  I would either have a migraine, flu symptoms, or just completely lethargic from it all.

I remember one evening we were going to an adult-only church meeting thing.  It was in the evening, we had gotten a sitter and we were driving to the meeting.  Once again, he got really mad.  I've sat here scratching my head, wondering what that fight was over. But I just can't remember.  It could have been that we were late.  He would get so mad when we would be late to a function.  So I remember that when we arrived at the church, he stomped in and I was behind him.  But I wasn't feeling so good.  I told him to go and find us a seat, while I went in to the restroom, locked the door and dry heaved for a good 5 minutes.  My tears streamed down my face in between heaves.  After a while, I knew that I needed to get out of the bathroom, clear up my face and go and sit down with him.  He didn't even bat an eye. I sat next to him, he put his arm around me and for the next two hours, we listened to the speaker talking about the importance of marriage, treating your spouse with the love and respect that they so greatly deserve, and loving each other.  The tears didn't stop.

I wanted to stand up and shout from my chair, "This is what my husband just said to me on our way here.  Tell me this isn't right, people!  Tell me!!" Of course I didn't, I swept it all under the rug.   I even caught a glimpse of him while the speakers were speaking.  He had a bit of a smug grin.  Maybe a fake grin.  Rubbing my shoulders as if nothing had happened.  The dry heaving.  That was a bad night.  My pillow was pretty wet.

So with all of our choices that we were making, my husband and I, we chose to add another little baby to the mix.  Because that's what leapers, sweepers and weepers do, right? Add babies.  But oh, how I loved this baby.  It's like she was delivered with a ray of sunshine.  No, not that spotlight they shine on you for the world to see your birth,  but this amazing ray of happiness.  She was a ray of light in a dark time for me.  That was God's tender mercy.  Don't get me wrong, I don't play favorites with my kids, but she was an answer to my silent pleas to God....if He was hearing any of my eye-rolling prayers.  An angel from heaven, still to this day.  That was a good choice, as were my other three kids.  Bringing 4 resilient amazing children into the world.

All of these choices, my friends.  There are so many of them.  Here is my challenge to you tonight:

I want you to CHOOSE to believe in yourself.  I want you to CHOOSE to believe that you are so worth it.  You are worth it in God's eyes.  You are worth it in my eyes.  CHOOSE to believe that, will you?  CHOOSE to believe that you have something mighty in store for you.  CHOOSE to believe that you are important enough and that you deserve all the happiness in the world.

And by CHOOSING to believe these things, you will find a strength like no other and you'll notice that your burdens will be just a bit lighter.  I promise.  :)

Now I am CHOOSING to tell you that you are amazing.

Because you are.


Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

Leaps, Faith and Leaps of Faith

My dearest of friends,

It's Sunday night.  My heart is full.  Do you want to know why? I can't get YOU out of my mind. As I share my story, I feel a strange bond that is developing.  Not in a creepy way...don't worry.  I know that there are silent friends out there.  That read and weep, right along with me.  I LOVE your comments, your messages, your "likes." We are bonding, friends.  And I hope that you are realizing that you are NOT alone.  You have been silently suffering for so long.  You have been your own Super Hero of your life, and you haven't even realized it!  As I hear your stories, I realize that I'M not alone!!  The first few posts literally drained my energy.  I believe that those posts drained the toxins that I've been holding on to for years.  Now I find that with each blog, I am gaining a renewed strength! Friends, I thought I was strong before......so once again, I thank you.  Thank you for joining me on this journey.  For being your strong selves.  Perhaps our strength TOGETHER is creating this bond. A force for good.  We are here for each other.  And we are safe.  Please know that.  YOU are safe.

So this whole sharing-my-story thing got me thinking.  Watch out world, I'm thinking!! I got thinking about leaping.  And faith-ing.  Then it led me to leaping with faith-ing, otherwise known as leaps of faith. ;) After all, it is the weekend.  A time that we practice our "faith" by going to church, worshipping and making new promises to better our lives until next faith weekend.

Leaping.  Have you ever leapt to get out of the way? Leapt to avoid getting hit in the face with a dodgeball? Leapt out of the way of a rattlesnake? (That would be more like a leap, roll, scream, and run--but you get my drift). Basically, leaping to escape harm or danger?  I have for sure.  And in a figurative sense, I would leap to avoid a lot of the anger or just to avoid my sadness.  This was my coping mechanism in my marriage.  Leaping to avoid.  Then sweeping the mess under the rug.  Leaping and sweeping, then later weeping.  It's rhyme time, friends.  ;) I would sense an upcoming rage, and "leap" away....find something to do, somewhere to be, somehow to avoid.  I would be ignorant, in a sense.  Sometimes, and usually most times, it would still end up in confrontation, but I would be able to avoid for a while.  I remember one time, around my birthday, I was doing a good job avoiding.  I had agreed to help with a group craft.  I needed to cut out a whole bunch of wood to supply the craft for my big group of women.  One night, he was starting to get "on one."  I quickly leapt out to the garage to cut out wood.  It was loud.  I could drown out any noise and just cut.  I loved it.  I love the smell of pine when I cut wood and I love power tools.  I know, weird.  But I was in a happy place for the moment.  Then he came outside.

He said, "Your friends just called.  They're taking you out for your birthday. But it's supposed to be a surprise.  Go get in the car and I'll drop you off."  But he wasn't happy about this.  Remember how he was jealous of the attention and love I was getting from friends and loved ones? Yah, this didn't go over so well.  I felt so bad, because he was on one anyway, and now I was going to go and celebrate ME with my girlfriends and leave him home to "babysit?" I knew I was in trouble.  I asked him to just call back and tell them not to worry.  But he angrily insisted.  I knew I would pay for it later.  I went, with sawdust in my hair.  I had a great time, but with a pit in my stomach, knowing the repercussions when I got home.  Luckily we stayed out late enough that he was asleep when I got home.  But I do remember the next few days were filled with angry silence.  I swept it under the rug, just accepting it, not dealing with it.  It was a bad birthday.  I just felt guilty that we were celebrating my life, which I was a failure at.  So for my birthday I leapt, I swept and I wept.      

Faith.  Faith is what got me through, every day.  Faith in God, faith in my kids, and faith that everything would work out for the best. Forever the faithful optimist.  That's who I was and still am.  The Glad Game Girl.  The Faith Above All Else Girl.  Because according to George Michael, we've gotta have it.  Sing it friends, sing it loud.  I'm a believer.  I know that the sun will rise every morning.  I know that God hears and answers prayers.  I have faith in all of that.  I had the faith, yet felt like a failure.  Does that even make sense? I definitely had faith that God was aware of my pain.  And he would tell me through the girls that I loved and served, my sweet kids and spiritual moments that He was aware and He knew of my struggles.  I had faith in that.  I knew I needed to hang on-for something.  Or some-ones.  Or someone.  So I kept that faith.  And relied on it.  I would need it for later on........

Leaps of faith.  This is the most important thing I want to discuss tonight.  Leaps of faith.  Sometimes, we need a great deal of faith to leap and avoid.  OR leap with faith to confront.  How about a leap of faith to face your silent suffering? To own it? To admit it?  I was in denial for years.  Like I have said, I never thought I would have been THAT girl.  That person that was abused.  Maybe it's time to take that leap of faith and not be silent about it anymore.  That's up to you, friends.  I won't force you to do anything.  I just want you to think about taking that leap of faith.  One of my all time favorite movies is Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  Do you remember the part of the movie when Dr. Jones is almost to the Goblet?  But there's a deep ravine in between him and the 700 year old dude with the Goblet.  His only clue: "Last is the breath of God, Only in the leap from the lion's head will he prove his worth." Indy knew that the only way to get across was to take that leap.  He was nervous.  He didn't know the outcome.  Remember the scene where he closed his eyes, stretched his leg out and stepped out.  Then it was revealed to him that he was on an invisible bridge....he even threw some rocks on it to guide his way across.  But he was the one that initially stepped out into the unknown.

I remember my first "leap of faith."  Perhaps the leap of realization that required faith to accept that something was wrong.  Every other year my sister and I would meet at a religious university to attend a Women's Conference.  Yes, friends, 21,000 women would congregate to learn, grow, serve and of course, EAT! These are all things that we women do best.  About 6 or 7 years ago, I made the trek in my car to meet my sister.  I remember that my husband had gotten really mad at me.  Of course I can't remember why.  The mental block kicked in.  But I do remember that he was so mad that I cried for most of the several hour drive.  When I met my sister at the university that night, we went out to eat (of course!) and I told her my sadness from the day.  The events from that day.  I had never opened up to her but I felt so bad, that I needed to talk to someone.

I remember her looking me in the eyes and saying, "Sis, that sounds like verbal abuse."

What? Verbal abuse? Me? Couldn't be.....or could it?  That night, I lay in my dorm bed.  Verbal abuse.  Verbal abuse.  Verbal abuse.  I decided that maybe I needed to confront those two words.  I stuck out my leg, closed my eyes and took that step.  I didn't fall!! Phew! That was scary.  Too scary.  I threw out the rocks so I could see the bridge a little better.  That 700 year old dude was waiting for me.  I stood standing on the bridge.  I had a great week with my sister.  I drove home....anticipating my return to my husband.  Of course I got an apology.  Of course I got promises that he would control his temper and work on it.  And I did something I knew I would.  I stepped back.  I swept the rocks from the bridge under the rug.  So no one would see the bridge.  700 year old dude would have to wait.

Haven't we done that friends? Maybe let our fear get the best of us? Take a step, test it out, then chicken out and take a step back? I did that a few times.  My fear was that I wasn't ready for the "bridge" and to walk across it.  I was afraid of my husband. So that initial leap of faith was terrifying.  I decided to stay on that ledge and hang out for a little while longer.

What is holding you back, friends? What is on the other side of the ravine waiting for you? Please remember that I am not encouraging divorce on this blog.  But perhaps you might be feeling like that life is ahead of you.  Maybe 700 year old dude is seeming pretty attractive at this point....kidding! :) Perhaps on the other side of the ravine is a new life with you and your spouse.  Perhaps there is great healing on the other side.  Whatever it is, it is waiting for you, my strong friends.  All you need to do is take that great leap of faith and take that first step.  And in my eyes, it's okay if you take a step, then step back.  Take that step, then step back.  Because whatever is waiting for you on the other side, will remain there.  It will wait.  You are building the strength, the FAITH to take that leap. And I know you can do it.

"What if I fall?  Oh, my darling, what if you fly?"

Exactly.

Your journey awaits.

So does 700 year old dude. ;)


Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

It's Mirror Time, Friends :)

My sweet, STRONG, praying friends,

Have you prayed? Have you thanked God for being you? Have you reminded yourself that you are SO worth it?  How are those brooms? Hopefully they were thrown out in this week's garbage.  I'm just checking in, regrouping, okay, FINE...nagging.  That's what I do best.  I'm a mom, remember? ;)  I want to nag the strength right out of that deep dark place that's been hiding in you.  Oh, it's coming, friends.  I have a feeling it's already started......

Back to story time: :)

In the house that I love.  A new place.  We're making roots.  Establishing ourselves.  I was drowning my unhappiness into my happy "outside" life.  Volunteering in classrooms, serving in my church, smiling, making friends.  My "outside" self was so happy.  People appreciated me.  They would say nice things to me.  They would lift me up, buoy me up, and make me feel so good.  I was beginning to establish a "reputation" in our community.  Everyone liked this happy new addition to the community and church.  And I sure liked everyone.  But the only person I wanted the praise and adoration from was my husband, without the anger.   I would go about my daily duties, receiving compliments, kindness, returning the favors and loving the daily life.  Then I would round the corner to come home to my dream house, see my husband's car in the driveway, and get a pit in my stomach.  The smile would slowly fade, my shoulders would tense up and I would prepare for whatever egg shells lay on the ground to walk on.  I was a busy mommy of 3 and I loved that they were my distraction at home.  I also served the young girls in my church-I was the President.  God's tender mercies gave me those young girls.  Twice now.  I absolutely LOVED sharing with those girls how special they were, how much potential they had and their true divine worth.  The other women that I worked with serving those young girls? Divine angels.  It was a love fest every Sunday.  And mid week.  My children, those girls and those women saved my life.

Okay, so are you gagging about now? Asking, "Why is aMOMynous bragging about how much everyone liked her?" Like, gag me with a spoon.  Ha!  There's a reason.  Something triggered inside of my husband.  He didn't like the attention that people were giving me.  He didn't like that I was in the "spotlight" (in his eyes).  He was.....jealous.  He would give me a hard time about it, almost mockingly.  "We walk into the room and everyone flocks to you.  What about me? Am I nothing?"  So do you see where I'm going with this? I couldn't even do my daily, happy thing without hearing about it later.  I would feel guilty that he wasn't receiving the attention he wanted/needed.  I would feel guilty if we walked into a room and people came over to me.  I would feel guilty that those young girls loved me so much.  Guilt.  Guilt.  More guilt to add to my sad prayers at night.

"God, I am so sorry that I have made friends.  I am so sorry that I love those girls and they love me.  I am so sorry that I get attention instead of my husband."  I bet God rolled His eyes at those prayers...;)

So my husband also had a high calling in our church at that time, too.  It was demanding, on both of our parts, to lead those that we were called to lead, take care of our young children and deal with all of the rest of our problems.  One day, my husband and I were driving.  I was figuring things out with my cute girls that I loved so much and he snapped.  He said that one of us had to be "released" from our church service.  We both couldn't do it anymore and "since everyone loves me so much more" he should be the one to be released.  I was chomping on a guilt sandwich by this time.  He enjoyed having his high calling.  And I really didn't mind being released as the President.  So I guiltily made the call, asking for me to be released.  Our clergyman didn't feel that it was right for either of us to be released so he kept us where we were.  And so did my guilt.  So now I felt like I couldn't go about my happy day, enjoying, uplifting and helping others, because I would hear about it later.

Now that I look back, I realized that it was then that control started entering our marriage.  He would question every place I was going, why I was doing what I was doing, and I was doing too much-I needed to scale back.  So when I left the house, I felt guilty.  Taking meals in? Guilt.  Attending my teenage girls extracurricular activities to support them? Guilt.  Helping during Teacher Appreciation Week? Yah, you get it.  So now, I was transforming into Early Thirties Guilty Girl.  The happiness that I was feeling during the day was now being sucked away and replaced by those guilt sandwiches.   Which, in my eyes, was a way to control or manipulate me.

Oh, how my heart ached!!  My one refuge was the day, and now I felt bad about that, too.  This was when I started really hating who I was.  I would have such thoughts as, "If I wasn't such a crappy wife, he would be happy.  If I didn't go and help others, he would be happy.  If I didn't spend so much money (which I really didn't), he would be happy.  If I ignored the girls that I loved, he would be happy.  I hated myself.  My existence, my purpose, my calling in life.  Look at what abuse does, friends! It destroys.  But I hadn't realized that yet.  I couldn't pinpoint the reasoning behind hating myself so much.

Do you remember Stuart Smalley (the character) from SNL?  Where he was the therapist and he would look in the mirror and say, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!"  If you haven't seen it, look it up on YouTube.  One of my favorites.  Well, I would self talk in the mirror, too.  Except I wouldn't lift myself up, I would tear myself down.  All the things that I hated about myself, I would tell Mirror Self.  How self-destructive, right? Exactly.  That was the depth of my sadness, of who I had become.  Smile Plastered on Self during the day, Mirror Self by night.

Okay, I bet you're totally judging me right now.  I'll judge me, too.  I'm sure it sounds weird that I would talk to myself in the mirror.  But that's all I knew how to cope.  I know you get it.  You have your own coping mechanisms, too, don't you?  Maybe not.  Maybe I'm the only weirdo in the universe and I'll embrace it.  Stuart would tell me to.  ;)  But we all cope with hardship and sadness in different ways.  This was my way.

And so with that knowledge, here is my challenge for you, my not-weird friends.  I KNOW this will be a strength to you.  You need it.  You NEED to believe in yourself.  So you can get through this hard time in your life.  You need to believe in yourself so you can confront your demons.  Believing in yourself will give you a strength you never knew you had.  So here it is:

Every day, I want you to do exactly what Stuart Smalley does.  Look in that mirror of yours and before Mirror Self can even tell you anything, YOU tell Mirror Self, "I'm good enough.  I'm smart enough.  And doggone it, people like me."

Because you are......enough.  You are better than enough.  You.  Are.  Incredible.

Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

We've Got To Pray Just To Make It Today!!!

Dear Super Hero friends,

Well, it's Mid-Week...you all are probably getting back into the groove of the After Holidays Reality Check.  It's hard isn't it? Some moms and dads are glad to get their kids back into school, where the teachers are somewhat refreshed, ready to finish the second half of making our kids smarter.  Some moms and dads are probably a little sad, knowing their kids go back to school and won't be home all day.  Lots of memories have been made, either way.  I bet that you feel that your cup is a little more full.  That's good! Embrace that!  Sometimes a few drops added to the cup can provide a mountain of strength! Personally, for me, I'm just taking one day at a time.  I'm recovering from Monday morning's alarm clock.  That was a doozy.  ;)

But I'm so excited to continue on with OUR journey:

So we had moved into my dream home.  Three kids.  Healthy daughter, finally.  But sad/depressed/angry husband. This is a point in my life where I started living two lives, basically.  Early Thirties Hopeful Girl that was trying to keep the family together.  And then there was Put On The Smile When You Walk Out The Door Girl.  I became involved in my church, in the community at schools, etc.  I volunteered to do everything.  I was THAT mom. ;) I didn't want anyone to know of my heartache.  My husband, who now had a very flexible job, allowed him to work at home most of the time.  This permitted him many more opportunities for arguments and finger pointing.  I believe even some control issues were thrown in there as well.  It was hard living, essentially, two lives.  Because I would exhaust myself during the day, pretending my life was perfect and everything was perfect around me.   Then at night I would have to deal with my deep down feelings.  He started getting more mad at me.  We stopped sleeping in the same bed.  He would fall asleep on the couch, watching TV and usually stay there all night.  I remember that for either my Birthday or Christmas, the only present I wanted was for him to sleep in bed with me.  That's what couples do, right?

His anger trickled to my oldest boy.  I remember one time he was so mad at my son that he took him outside, took his belt off and bent him over so he could whip him.  Then he raged inside, while I rescued my baby boy.  I held him and told him it would be okay.  "Dad is just mad.  It will be okay."  And then I would get in trouble for consoling him.  That was "enabling" him so he wouldn't learn his lesson to behave.

That's when I kind of just started going through the motions, as to not rock the boat.  I'm a peacemaker.  I like everyone to be happy.  I like calm and peace and smiles. One night I was cooking dinner and my husband came over, motioning that he wanted sex.  The kids were all running around, I was cooking dinner, exhausted from doing my smiley, happy act, to decompressing, walking on egg shells, and not sure when he would explode.  Well, he got mad alright.  I asked him how on earth he expected me to drop what I was doing so he could get some instant gratification? I told him later that night, when the kids were in bed, we could have sex.  No way, he wouldn't have that.  He got very mad, wouldn't talk to me and didn't ask for sex for a couple of days.  That's when I learned to set the mixing spoon down, turn off the stove, lock the doors so the kids wouldn't escape, and give him sex at a moments' notice.  And dang, that spaghetti just didn't turn out right.

This is when I started praying......differently.  I've always been good at saying my own personal nightly prayers.  But I didn't pray the same way.  I started asking for forgiveness.  For being a failure.  Because that's what I felt I was.  So many years of anger, images, accusations....I was failing as a wife and a mother.  I just knew it.  That's the way that he made me feel.  I wasn't as pretty as those images my husband had been looking at.  I couldn't control a checkbook.  Or pay the bills.  Or give him sex before the spaghetti.  So I would ask God for forgiveness for my failing.  That I would try harder the next day. That I was so sorry to disappoint Him and my husband and my kids.  Isn't that a sucky way to pray? Early Thirties Hopeful Girl was losing hope.  In herself.

I prayed this way for about 8 years.  I know.  Here is where you are thinking, "How heartbreaking! How sad!"  Early Twenties Ugly Girl, Early Thirties Hopeful Girl and I all agree with you, in a very NOT split personality way.

But my prayers are different now.   And I want you to pray-even if you have your whole life, or for your first time tonight.  When you kneel down to pray, THANK GOD that you lived today.  That you were given this day to the be the best that you can be.  That you GET the opportunity to try to be even better tomorrow.  If that's too much? No worries! Baby steps....... Just pray to God to give you the STRENGTH to get through the next day.

That MC Hammer knows a thing or two. ;)

Strengthly Yours,

aMOMynous

PS: Those aren't my hands.  I mean, they're perfectly manicured!! I wonder if that hand model is a mom.......if she is, I give up right now :)

No More Sweeping! (except if your kitchen really needs it)

My dear strong friends,

Thank you for reading.  Thank you for coming on this journey with me.  THANK YOU!! A friend commented on my last blog entry through Facebook. She left me deep in thought.  I'm so thankful for her acknowledgment that this is a heartbreaking story.  I'm grateful for her.  I thought about that all day yesterday.  And so I share with you this, before I continue with my story:

This IS truly a heartbreaking story.  I have to be honest.  By sharing my story with you, I have felt emotions that I had no idea I would feel.  I have felt weak.  Sapped of strength.  Fear of sharing.  Exhausted.  Sick to my stomach.  Something that I've kept hidden for so long is now exposed.  I kind of feel like I'm walking around naked.  In a dark room.  With a spotlight on my heart.  And I realized why yesterday.....because Early Twenties Strong Girl, Early Twenties Ugly Girl and everything up until now hasn't healed.  I'm healing, friends!!!! By confronting the woman of my past, I'm rawly gaining strength I didn't know that I needed!  By feeling naked, scared, weak, exhausted, raw.....I'm confronting that girl and dealing with it.  A few days ago, my goal was to reach out to my silently suffering friends.  That goal remains as #1, but I had no idea that I would be healing my Past Self.  I thought that was what my counseling sessions were for.  Sure, I'm a Survivor with Strength.  But my strength is manifesting itself and growing stronger.  WOW.  Thank you! Thank you Facebook Commenter Friend.   Early Twenties Strong Ugly Girl has joined this journey.

PS: I don't have a split personality.  Promise.

I continue with my story.........

So here I was.  Lumpy rug and all.  Sweeping everything under that carpet because I didn't want to deal with it and I was too scared to deal with it.  So I swept.  I became a very good sweeper.  Hurrying to sweep before anyone could see the real life I was living.  Plastering on that happy face and going out in public with it.  All the while holding back tears.  And determined to find gladness in any area of my life and focus on that.  That seemed to be a pretty good coping mechanism for me.  The anger continued.  And let me clarify something.  It wasn't all of the time.  It came in cycles, what I later learned as the Abuse Cycle.  Look it up, friends.  See if that relates to any area of your life.  Here is a picture of the Cycle.  Is this familiar to any of you?

I could have sat myself down and drew the same exact picture before I knew this even existed.  So we see that it doesn't happen on a daily basis.  I always thought that it did.  That's why I didn't even think that I was being abused. But this is so true.  I never could predict his behavior.  Sometimes this cycle would go for a week.  Sometimes a few days.  Unpredictable.

Like I say, I can't remember much of what he got mad at me about but I remember how I felt.  At one point in our lives, we wanted to start running together.  We thought that would be good and healthy for us and get us into shape.  I was enjoying running and being outdoors and I thought it would be good to run with him.  One particular day, we started jogging and warming up.  As we rounded a corner, once again, he got mad at me about something.  He took off down the street, running yards ahead of me, leaving me in his dust....literally.  The tears ran freely down my cheeks as I watched his angry body ahead of me, proving his point that he was so mad at me that he wouldn't even run by my side and deal with the problem.  He left me in his dust to make me feel bad and figure it out myself.  So I did.  I swept it under that lumpy carpet.

Time moved on.  I plugged away at being a mom, finding happiness wherever I could cling and just "settling" with the life I was now living.  There came a time when my husband decided he wanted to finish school, and get a "real" job.  So he crammed his last classes into one semester, graduated and found a job out of state, in a place we had never heard of or been to.  It seemed like a new adventure. A fresh start!  Maybe getting out of the town he knew best would change his anger.  I was excited.  During this preparation and excitement, I had Baby #3.  Because that's what you do when you're hurting and not resolving your deep down issues, right? :) My little girl was born so sick.  For a few hours, we weren't sure she was going to make it or not.  But she's a fighter and she made it! She spent a couple of weeks in the NICU where many blessings and tender mercies ensued.  Doctors, nurses and angels watched over my little one.  This was an amazing time in my life.  I kind of "forgot" about my pain and watched miracles happen to my little miracle baby.  A few months later, we packed up, moved to a random place, not knowing a soul, except for our realtor.  We moved into a house that we couldn't afford, but I loved it.  I was hesitant to buy it, for fear that we couldn't afford it, but my husband assured that we could, as long as I controlled my spending and we live on a tight budget.  Oh, how I loved that house.  Some of the best and worst memories were made there.  I will get into those later.  Because that's when I started remember things.  I remember that the first week we were there, my husband slumped into one of his greatest depressions I can remember.  One day, he just laid on the empty family room rug, unlumpy and new. But he was sad.  Not functioning.  Didn't want to be there.  Missed his family and what he knew best.  I became the cheerleader that day.  I promised him that we could find happiness! We could make a life of our own, being on our own.  That we could spread our wings and fly! I told him that we could just try it out for a year.  If it didn't work, then we could always move back.  But just try.

Who knew that moving to this strange new place would be the beginning of the end of my marriage? I was now Early Thirties Hopeful Girl.  Leaving the problems behind, without dealing with them, but considering this my fresh new start? Taking life by the handles.

After all, if my daughter could fight for her life, couldn't I?

Here's my tip today, friends.  Just let your feelings surface.  Don't bury them anymore.  Find someone to talk to.  Write down all of your feelings.  Go on a run (maybe not with your spouse, if he/she is anything like mine....ha!) Do something therapeutic for YOU.  Because it's real.  And it's heartbreaking.  But it can be so healing so you can gain the strength you need to face the things that you need to face.  You can do it.  I have complete faith in you and so does God.  No more silence or sweeping or pillow wetting.  That kind of sounded like bed wetting....but you know what I mean. ;)

YOU are your own Super Hero.

Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous

Pollyanna and the Glad Game

Dear friends of GREAT strength,

Happy New Year!! 2015 is going to be OUR year! I can just feel it.  I hope that as I take you on this journey, you will find a renewed strength as I have found a renewed strength in YOU.

I continue with my story....  Remember that I had that baby?  We were living in an apartment at the time and just trying to figure things out, once again.  Kinda like when we first got married.  Now we were trying to figure out how to do the family thing.  Mom.  Dad.  Baby.  I stayed home with Baby while my husband worked full time and tried to fit school in.  Sometimes school was just too hard to squeeze in the schedule, so he just worked.  Things were kind of fuzzy in my brain.  I had just had a baby, couldn't nurse Baby that good, still had those images in my mind that my husband was viewing and was trying to put a smile on my face through it all.  BIG mistake.  I plastered on a smile, sweeping my sadness and problems under the rug, along with cheerios and binkies, and went on my merry way.  I didn't want anyone to know that anything was wrong.  Everyone around me was perfect....having perfect children, getting to church perfectly on time, and smiling at their perfect spouses.  I was too embarrassed to admit that my husband got mad at me. I stressed him out.  That he looked at those images.  Because I wouldn't have sex with him enough.  Now he was mad because I wasn't paying enough attention to him.  It was my fault and I was embarrassed.  To hide my embarrassment, I smiled.  Pretended that everything was perfect.  Told no one.

But I will share with you this.  I am an optimist.  I believe in the power of positive thinking.  I believe that it's good for the body, mind and spirit.  I'm kinda like Pollyanna.  I like the Glad Game.  And I played it a lot in my marriage.  Husband would get mad at me.  But then he would eventually apologize to me.  I was glad for that.  I know now, that my positivity and overall cheerful demeanor is what saved my life.  Because in EVERY day, there is always something good.  We just have to look for it, cling to it, and let it help us get through that day.  

We soon decided to buy our first house.  We thought it would be a good investment, it had a downstairs basement apartment that we could rent out.  Made perfect sense to our "perfect" lives.   I became involved in my church with the young girls.  Oh, how I adored them.  Glad game.  When husband would get angry with me, I would think of those girls.  So glad.  We didn't have a lot of money.  I used to call my husband Bob Cratchit.  He was overworked and underpaid.  He worked about 90 hour weeks (sometimes more).  We had a hard time paying our mortgage, even with renters.  I continued to stay at home, but felt like I needed to help with money.  So I started donating plasma.  Glad game? I got to lay down and rest while my plasma was being taken out of my body.  But note to Plasma Centers: you probably shouldn't show "Saving Private Ryan" while all of us are laying there, watching our blood leave our body and then soldiers' blood leaving theirs.  Too much blood....;)
The money was helpful, but not enough.  I remember one day, I didn't have enough money for groceries, so I used our credit card.  I spent about $35.  That didn't go over too well.  I "couldn't manage money at all" and our debt increased.

So what does a couple do when the money is tight and the wife isn't treated the way she should be? Well, of COURSE a couple adds another baby to the mix.  That's exactly what we did.  Baby #2 came along.  My brain got fuzzier.  Because I still wasn't quite over the images, the anger and now raising two babies.  But my babies loved each other.  Glad game. And I really can't remember why my husband would get mad.  Usually over the same thing, but my memories were fuzzy.  I'm kind of glad about that.  But I remember how I felt.  I felt pretty miserable.  And alone.  Because I couldn't pinpoint why I was deeply down sad.  I knew that I was "on the surface" happy, but deep deep down, sad.  And then my husband started becoming sad.  Depressed.  Sleeping a lot.  Telling me that I didn't deserve him.  That he should just die.  Kill himself.  I remember one night, while having a rendezvous with my pillow and tears, I thought to myself, "my husband is out sleeping on the couch, angry, depressed, suicidal at times, never home and addicted to images."  God, what more could I handle?? Around this time, my mom came to visit.  She recalls that her heart broke when she saw our bare fridge, my sad eyes, yet perfect smile.  She couldn't pinpoint anything at the time, either.  But she later told me that she cried all the way home.  Because she couldn't help her baby.  Her baby couldn't even help herself or her situation.

Yet I was determined to be happy! Be glad! Glappy (glad/happy) during the day, secret silent tears during the night. My babies made me happy.  My church girls made me happy.  My friends made me happy.

I remember one time it got bad.  Really bad.  My husband, again, was yelling at me for something.  Then became quickly depressed, saying that he was going to go out to the garage and kill himself.  That I deserved better.  He went into the garage.  I panicked.  I called my clergyman in the middle of the day, not knowing what to do.  He left work and came over to our house.  Took my husband in his car for a ride.  I have no idea what they talked about.  But he calmed down.  He got the medical attention and medication needed to treat his depression.  One night, my clergyman called me into his church office so he could visit with me.   He apologized for everything that I had been going through.  Then he said something I will never forget.  He suggested that I divorce my husband.  "NO!" I immediately responded.  We are taught to endure our eternal marriages, right? Right??? I told him that I couldn't even imagine being a single mom with two little babies.  I could handle this, it's what we're supposed to do, right? So I told him that I would not divorce my husband.  We could work it out. And so we spent the next 11-ish years trying to do just that.  Well, more like me sweeping a lot of my problems and feelings and sadness under the rug and plastering a perfect happy smile on my face. That rug was getting pretty bumpy.  But I was glad we at least had a rug to hide our problems.  Glad game.

So here we are on our journey, my friends.  And this is where I issue another challenge to you:

If you have some of the above described deep down sad feelings because your spouse/lover/partner is mistreating you, do not fear.  I know how you feel.  I don't want you to sweep any of those feelings or emotions under any rug.  Scoop those feeling up.  Look at them.  Analyze them.  Show them to your spouse/lover/partner, if he or she is willing to look at them.  Ask if you might need to have a third party take a look at those.  Perhaps a counselor or clergyman.  If your spouse/lover/partner will have nothing to with any of that, or you fear the response, skip that and go directly to a third party.  They will help you.  And get those feelings into the garbage as soon as you can.  Because you're worth it.  You deserve to walk on a smooth unlumpy carpet.  And that, my friends, is the Glad Game at its finest.

You are amazing.

Strengthly yours,

aMOMynous