Tag Archives: raw

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

Don’t Write About Me(!)

I have been writing since I can remember. I am not one for poems or fiction because to be blunt I’m pretty awful at it. My wheelhouse has always been pulling from what I’m going through.You can blame that on the many friends and family members who bought me diaries and journals.

The hard lesson I’ve learned over the years is when you write from the heart not only is it painful to put on paper it’s equally painful to read.

So as I was getting ready to approach this new chapter in my writing journey… see what I did there? I let those close to me know.

My sweet Dad who is to blame for me being both an avid reader and writer immediately yelled out “don’t write about me!”

I promise this is probably it Dad.. Sorta. But it is a slippery slope.

Every week I put myself out there.

I usually do have a plan. I keep a bunch of post its with topic ideas handy in case my ritual of an adult beverage and accompanying music of the moment leave me stuck.

But full transparency these blogs come from moments. They’re  moments that I think if I’m feeling this way maybe someone else is too and maybe just maybe they will read this and maybe not feel better, but know they’re not alone.

That can sometimes be the hardest thing. No matter who you are. But when I first left my ex husband I felt it. Hard. There were a few people who really stepped up and they know who they are.  That leads me back to the beginning of this post. When I write these I am trying so hard to not be hurtful, to keep things that are mine, mine but still share those moments.

In a recent post I alluded to a new person in my life. He caught it. Believe it or not I’m actually a pretty guarded person. If you read my series the Fixer of Broken Boys … well you know why. I’m working on it. So it can be hard for me to tell the people I care about what they mean to me, but I can write it here.

I know I don’t get it either.

Again, working on it.

It’s scary. Sharing your life. Your joys. Your not so great days. The ugly. The great. The newest wrinkle.

But that’s WHY I’m here. That’s why I’m write. That’s why I share. So on those days- YOU know someone’s got you Momma.

 

Hi there- my name is Caprise, I’m your tattoo’d, music loving, Henry Rollins obsessed, Mom of the  amazing G, single working Mom cheerleader… and I’m going to try my hardest to remind you we got this.

<3