In the Trenches

'Sadness' photo (c) 2007, Dr. Wendy Longo - license: blogging in the midst of heartache isn’t the wisest thing – but if I can’t be real here, where can I be real?  Thanks for witnessing my walk through this valley….

There’s a part of me that would like to stay silent.  That part of me wants to encourage others and not weigh them down with my burdens.  But that’s taking far too much responsibility for others on my own shoulders, and really – life isn’t always rainbows and butterflies, so how much encouragement comes from pretending it is?

My husband hasn’t been protecting his purity – or me – in recent months.  He’s dabbled back in his unhealthy patterns and has been hiding.  In short, he’s screwed up.  I’m not in any physical danger – it’s entirely mental and emotional.  But as I sit here and type, after a really rotten night of “sleep” (two melatonin tablets and hours of tossing & turning), sipping coffee and thinking – all I can feel are the tears behind my eyes.  It feels as though my heart is breaking all over again.  You think I’d get used to this and it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but for whatever reason, right now, it is.

I know that last part isn’t fair to me.  Betrayal isn’t something that I “should get used to,” and it’s something I was designed to “get used to.”  I was designed for more – but because I’m human and fallen, the path I walk with another fallen human being is less than what we were both designed for.

So why didn’t I confront before last night?  Weariness, I suppose – we’ve dealt with an inordinate number of deaths in the past two months, and I’m tired.  Tired of mourning, tired of slogging through my days and dealing with the sadness that comes with it.  It zapped my energy to do normal things (grief is funny like that) and made me tired so that when we fell in to bed, it was out of sheer exhaustion, not passion.  And yet, I knew.  I just didn’t have the will to see it through at that time.

As we talked last night and he confessed his shortcomings, he said, “I had this sense, yesterday, as we hugged in the kitchen, of “I am yours and you are mine,” and I loved it.”  My response was to sob, as I explained, “Yes, but you aren’t ‘all mine’!”  He has shared himself with others in a way that he’s not “all mine,” and that breaks my heart in tiny pieces.  This isn’t what we were created to experience and that loss of Eden is weighing heavily on me right now.

So where do we go from here?  I honestly haven’t a clue.  We’ll keep walking, together, and I’ll keep crying as I need.  I’m not a big fan of crying – it makes a mess of my makeup, makes my contacts cloudy and my eyes puffy – but I’ve determined it’s far better to feel the grief than to stuff it.  Because although I’m a world-class stuffer, I’ve not enjoyed having to deal with this stuff later, either.

I’m going to put some essential oils on that help perk me up – not that take away the emotions and leave me zombie-like, but that help me look up and realize that someday, we’ll be out of the trench warfare.  I hope it’s sooner, rather than later, but I know God is sustaining me through it all and I’m trying to learn how to be a better disciple in the process.

Thanks again for witnessing this part of my journey.  I’d love it if I could’ve scattered rose petals in this post and made you feel fuzzy inside, but I’ll see if I can save that for a future post.  😉.

This entry was posted on 091111H Nov 2012 and is filed under Anger, Forgiveness, Path to Healing, Sexual Brokenness, SSA. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

  • your neighbour

    Sweet friend, you hide so well. Just want you to know that I love you and I am in the trenches with you. As painful as this road is, I know there is a plan and a purpose and I am calling His name.

    -Your neighbour