Tag Archives: emotional

Where To Begin

I am not sure where to begin, it’s hard to talk about something, rather write about something when it has been met with disbelief.

You read that correctly. The first time I told someone how my ex husband treated me, the person I shared it with looked at me and laughed, then said maybe he was just having a bad day.

After my divorce I tried again with a close friend and they told me to just get over it.

It wasn’t until I saw firsthand the reactions of people who really didn’t know me that well to how he treated me that I felt validated.

The standout was he had taken our daughter to swim lessons, somehow there had been some confusion about the times. He called me from the place she had lessons (where I also worked) and started yelling at me. Mind you we weren’t together anymore. After he left my co-workers were so concerned they called me to make sure I was okay.

My ex husband never physically hurt me. But he got in my head. He pushed my buttons. He found the soft spots, my insecurities and used them against me whenever he could.

He still tries to.

People always ask why, how? If I knew, I think I would solve a lot of problems for people.

For me he wasn’t my typical bad boy. He appeared to be the safe choice.

Appearances are deceiving and so was he. He actually enjoys that. He thought it was funny people didn’t realize how cruel he could be.

I have said this before and I will say it again. It is easy to stand back and wonder how someone can let things happen to them. But when you’re in it and feel like it’s your fault, sometimes you stay.

My ex husband wasn’t always this guy. But I think he wasn’t always not this guy either. I am the complete opposite of almost everyone in his life and initially he made me feel like that’s what he loved about me.

Then he didn’t.

He didn’t like how I looked. My hobbies. My friends. He made it clear in his body language when we were out with mine to the point where I would find reasons not to spend time with my friends. To avoid how he behaved.

There were rules about how the house looked.

Money.

When I met him, I was working three jobs and two college degrees.

He was an unemployed college dropout.

I put him through college, help him get his first job.

When I left him he kept everything- he said since it was my decision to leave I didn’t deserve anything.

Two moments that felt like lightbulbs…

We had a very small house. Our bedroom closet was teeny. He kept his clothes on our bedroom and I kept mine in our daughter’s. I had a job interview so I had put an outfit in our bedroom closet and I was in the living room and I heard him getting upset. I walked in the bedroom and he thrown the outfit on the floor.  We had hardwood floors and a dog and a toddler so my outfit yup, gross.

The second was we were out to dinner with his friends and I told them what I did for a living and my hobbies and they started teasing me for being shallow and decided I was a glorified babysitter. Rather than defend me. He joined in.

When I tried to talk to my ex about how any of this made me feel he would say “I’m sorry you feel that way, but only you can make yourself feel a certain way. Not me”

This is probably feeling rambly because if I’m being honest it’s hard to put words years of being pulled apart by the person who is supposed to be your partner. It’s hard to put into words when people tell you it’s not a big deal.

But it was

It is

Marriage is supposed to be a partnership and ABSOLUTELY there will be disagreements. It is not sunshine and lollipops twenty four seven, but I think we all know the difference.

This was my proverbial dip in the pool of sharing about my experience with emotional abuse. It was hard to write this. For all the reasons, but maybe one surprising one- my ex is still my daughter’s Dad, and while he and I don’t work he’s not too shabby when it comes to her.

Mommas this is a slippery slope. But at the end of the day if we can grow and raise a human. I’d like to think we can get through pretty much anything.

<3 Caprise

Battle Scars

Scars. Some look at scars as ugliness. Something that could make us less feel attractive or makes us feel as though we’re unlovable. In my opinion, that couldn’t be more wrong. According to the dictionary a scar is defined as a mark left after injury has occurred and healing has begun or has been completed. A mark where something was previously attached. A lasting emotional or moral injury. At some point in everyone’ life, injury of some nature is bound to occur – whether it be physical, emotional, mental, moral (you get the picture). Not a single soul is immune to it. You will never be able to outrun it. There is no escape…if any of you have figured out a way to do this – – please, show me your ways.

It’s a hands down “no brainer” that physical injury heals much faster than any emotional injury. Get a surgery. Add some hardware. Throw a cast on it or stitch it up – wait a little while and good as new. Off you go and if you’re lucky you’re back to doing most or all of the things you were doing before the injury even occurred.

Emotional pain is much much more complex (duh). If I could click the heels of my ruby red bottoms (my version of Ruby Red Slippers) three times and heal any and all emotional pain I’ve endured over my 39 times around the sun, I’d be all for it. It sure sounds a hell of a lot better than the raging hangover you’re sure to have from a night of downing your pains in Whiskey just to forget. 🙂 I’m sure I got an amen out of a few of you out there, right? Yes? No? Moving along…

I personally find that it’s strange that when you’re in the middle of dealing with your major emotional pains, you feel as if you have not moved anywhere. Not one step off of ground zero. Paralyzed. Stuck in a constant swirl that can make you nauseous. In reality, life continues. YOU are basically on auto pilot. The world keeps spinning, the sun still shines, and seasons come and go. Minutes turn to hours, hours to days, days to weeks and so on. Finally when think of taking a look back – you’ve actually come a lot further than you have been feeling or thinking you have. It is there in that moment when we look back and can see we’ve actually “moved” and have not been in the same spot we were left in – THAT is when you realize that your healing has begun and scars are starting to form over the open wounds and broken pieces of our hearts and souls. Progress.

There’s not a person alive that can tell you the timeline in which this all is supposed to happen. There are no rules. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Your schedule to healing and dealing is autonomous. It’s yours and yours alone, no one has the right to tell you to get over something or “magically heal” from something that is or was of utmost pain for you. When you’re ready, you’ll know and it will be. It’s just that complicated and simple. We’re each at our own pace, and healing over things – whatever they may be – a broken family, abusive childhood, an ended marriage, lost friendships, death, etc. we need to remember that we’re not racing against anyone else in the world, because not one of us is the same as the next. Honestly, I envy those who are able to just pick themselves up, dust themselves off and carry on – but it also makes me wonder if they were ever bothered by what it was in the first place if they just move on with Mach 10 speed. Personally, I tend to be a person that holds on to things a hell of a lot longer than I should or way more than whatever it was deserves. I choose to believe (for myself) that it’s because I love harder than most – so letting go, moving on, and healing is harder as well. My opinion. You certainly don’t need to by that brand.

The bottom line and point is this – these scars that we form from become our “battle scars”. They are not a life sentence. They do not make us ugly. They do not make us unlovable. They help mold us into the person we’re ultimately supposed to be. Sometimes it’s to strengthen us. To help us grow up. To be a better version of ourselves. To walk away from what is not made for us, or to simply make us realize that we deserve so much better.

They remind us that even though there’s been ups and downs, some catastrophic in nature, some not so much… that we showed up for life and we survived. Each battle scar telling their own tale. They show us where we’ve been but they do not dictate where we will go.

To the warrior within you…

You’ve survived what you thought you wouldn’t. Wear your battle scars proudly.

 

  • Jenn

Healing: Raw & Ugly

Healing is raw and ugly…

August 12, 2018

Well, here I am. Have gotten through his filing, claiming that I was cruel and “intentionally caused him to lose his job”, which is laughable. As is his request for spousal support.

Now, I’m angry. I’m angry that next week, I will be sending my oldest to Kindergarten, alone. I’m angry that last week I celebrated him losing his first tooth, alone. I’m angry that God let this happen. Why?! What did I do?! I stuck by him and I prayed and I trusted that God would bring us through this, and now here I am. I am alone. I am overwhelmed with bills and with things that need to be taken care of. I feel abandoned, by God, by my husband, by my church. I feel utterly alone and forgotten and uncared for and tired.

And now, I am alone. I am so lonely and so f**cking exhausted and confused and sad and I know I shouldn’t wallow in this and I know I should be grateful for the many, many blessings I do have – I know there are momma’s out there who would give anything to send their child off to Kindergarten. I know that. But this is not how I pictured things. I imagined and planned on preparing our child for school together, to bear the load of all the new and exciting things together, to celebrate the missing teeth and the new things learned together. I imagined that we’d be a team in this. I don’t feel adequate to do it all myself. My kids deserve better. They did nothing to deserve this. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I truly, truly believed that he and I would be together forever. That we’d have hard times, tough times, but we’d get through them. I never imagined this. Not for a second. Sometimes I torture myself and go through our old pictures together, our old memories. We looked so happy. That wasn’t fake, there’s no way. I know it wasn’t on my end, and I don’t think it was on his. We loved each other. I know we did. We had so many good, happy times. I don’t know what the hell happened. I don’t know what I did wrong or what I could have done better.”

I started writing things (in honesty … typing them – my handwriting is barely legible) a couple of months after we separated. It was a violent separation , literally and figuratively. I had to get the thoughts out, because I didn’t know what else to do, and I wanted to remember the feelings. I had hope that I’d be able to rise out of the suck and one day, look back and say “Look how far I’ve come”! I didn’t have any intention of letting other people read what I typed. BUT… I’ve been reading Brene Brown lately, and learning more about vulnerability. If what I was feeling – the rawness of it, can help someone else feel less alone, sharing is worth it.

At the time of writing my thoughts above, I was just starting to come to the realization that my commitment to our marriage was not reciprocated in any way. My ex-husband and I never worked the same shift or had the same days off in our ten years of marriage. I tried to find the positive in that – things were still new and fresh, seeing him was always exciting. However, it was dawning on me that he was able to maintain the front of being a doting husband for those few hours we had together, and that’s all it was to him. To me, those hours were precious; to him, an act to get through. (And, scene!)

If you read my last post, you know that there was a domestic violence incident and a whole lot of ugliness I subsequently discovered. The divorce was ugly. His attorney was one who would make scathing, disgusting accusations; probably to try and elicit some kind of reaction out of me (and oh, that temptation was REAL). My wounds were still fresh, and her words, baseless accusations, and complete unprofessionalism compounded the emotions and feelings, making a bad situation unimaginably difficult.

I am glad that I wrote my feelings as I was sitting in the suck, trying to navigate those dark moments. I remember how pervasive those feelings and emotions were, how deep the anger and sadness was. The level of betrayal is one that I still cannot find adequate wording for. I can sit here today and reflect on gratitude and the incredible blessings throughout the darkness, but when you’re in it… the good stuff isn’t so obvious.

Today, the darkness is a little lighter. As time goes on and you sit, experience the pain, and allow yourself to move through it, its sharpness lessens. I felt like I was stuck for a long time – I felt like I should be moving must faster, not wallowing in a never-ending pit. My faith and counseling helped me move forward, but the main thing is the willingness to work through it – not just cover it up with new romantic relationships, substances, or mindless activity. I and my kids deserve better. I have to understand how this happened, how I let it get so far, and my blind spots – this cannot happen again.

These days, I still struggle. But it’s not minute to minute so much anymore, and there are far more good days than bad. If you can relate to any of the words in the first few paragraphs, you are not alone. It is so, so hard and it can be incredibly unfair. But… you’ve done hard things before, and you will get through this difficulty. Don’t let what has happened to you define you – let it shape you into the resilient warrior that you are.

-Elaine

Pass The Tissues, Please!

Pass the tissues, please!

Growing up I was quick to cry. As an adult frustration and anger can mean waterworks.

I’m not sure who invented waterproof mascara but they’re my hero.

It’s embarrassing how much and what makes me cry. Commercials. Certain stories on the news. Movies. TV.

Pass the tissues.

Honestly,I usually just have tissues stashed in a pocket. But I’m here to say… there is something to be said for a good cry.Sometimes you need it. I know it sounds odd I’m encouraging this. Hear me out. There is something about giving into that emotion, getting it out and moving on.It can be a reset button. We all need a rest sometimes.

There is no shame in that. Owning your feelings is hard. Admitting you hurt or are sad can feel almost impossible. So to suggest a good cry, seems outlandish.

I also tend to shut down when I’m hurting. I have a hard time letting people know I’m hurt. Silliness I know…

Quote for you:

Just because you have days where you feel really overwhelmed. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad Mom. It’s ok to cry & it’s ok to need a break. You’re doing an amazing job.

You really are.

First we grew a person. Some of you a couple.

Some of you work, go to school, are full time Moms.

Your lives are hectic! It’s not a cakewalk.

There are bumps and mountains.

It is ok to have to take a moment a hit that reset button.

I got some tissues in my pocket for you Mommas.

<3

Caprise

Empathy-Wearing Your Heart On Your Sleeve?

The word empathy is a noun. It means the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

Depending on who you talk to it can also be viewed as a sign of weakness. Empathy. Being in touch with your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve.

I can’t tell you how many ex’s have told me I’m too sensitive.

I have been told by those closest to me it is the thing the love and hate the most about me. They know it means I keep my heart open when I shouldn’t. I cry when I am mad. I read into things. I can be jealous. But if I love you. I love you with all my soul. I will take care of you. Gestures no matter how small mean everything and I will do what I can in my guarded way to make sure you know.

I know guarded and empathetic seem like they don’t go but it’s the empathy that makes me guarded. Until it doesn’t.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about my proud Mommy moment.

Watching my beautiful daughter turn into a nurturer. Be aware of others around her and want to take care of them. Most recently with her cousins who are visiting from the East coast. She sees them if she is lucky once a year. Since she is an only child she refers to them as her cousin/siblings. She is in middle school so we have definitely started with some preteen eye rolls and occasional comment.

Overall though she shows me somewhere along the way she got the importance of being kind and caring. Don’t get me wrong she still stands her ground.

Do you know how great it is to be in a conference with four teachers and have them tell me how kind she is?Get that in an email from her guidance counselor.

In how she describes her friends. She makes sure to highlight details. Explain. Tell you why it’s ok. She listens.

Every night she tells me she loves me. She does the same when she leaves for school in the morning. She recognizes some of her friends are different but makes sure to impress upon us why it’s important it’s not a big deal. Her eyes are wide open and so is her beautiful heart.

In a world where people can be so incredibly cruel it makes me so proud my girl is making her own path and leading with a strong heart.

I’m a proud Mama. Who is also sending all of you lots of love from heart on my sleeve.

~~Caprise

Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
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