on purposeful inconsideration.

thanks, google images.

on my way to seattle, the plane ride was semi-uneventful, but there was a small incident that i'm still thinking about.  

i had started out the weekend with a head cold and was pretty miserable during the flight, where my sinuses burned so badly that at times it brought tears to my eyes.  i tried reading the book i had borrowed, "the glass castle," but after about 5 minutes of burning sinuses, i couldn't concentrate on the words anymore, so i had to stop.

i decided to cover my mouth and nose and just watch the people on the plane.  covering my nose seemed to help for some reason.  i'm really curious about other people, i like to watch them and try to imagine what their lives are like.  might sound boring to some, but it's interesting to me.

there was the hairless-armed man who was the closest to me, with only an empty chair between us.  i probably wouldn't have noticed his hair-free arms except that he was also a germaphobe and anti-bacterialized himself a good 13-15 times during our 3 hour flight.  i couldn't help but notice his routine.  he would pull out one of the airline brochures from the back of the seat in front of him, flip through it quickly, put it back, then anti-bacterialize himself.  then pull out another, flip through it, put it back, anti-bacterialize.  

repeat, repeat, repeat.

i watched him do this little pattern, drawing attention to his hands and arms, when i noticed that his arms were smoother than my little leah's.  they were completely hair-free.  i know there are people who do this, even men who do this.  for some reason though, it took me a little off-guard.  i assumed that his need to be germ-free and arm hair-free probably coincided.  and i'm not going to lie, i was kind of tempted to ask him to roll up his pants so i could see if his legs were hair-free too.  don't worry, i didn't ask him.  but the thought crossed my mind.

once he was finished with each of the brochures, he settled down a little bit and began to read his own book, which apparently he is comfortable with his own germs because he put the hand-sanitizer away.

i have to say, i took a little comfort in knowing that he has bigger germ issues than even i do.  and that's something.  it's always nice to know there's someone more intense about things than you are, walking around out there, isn't it?

so anyway, my attention diverted to the row of guys diagonally to the right of me.  sitting with their ipods in, playing games on their phones.  kind of boring.

but then, a blonde stewardess came along to ask them what they wanted to drink.  i heard them say, "cranberry juice, diet coke, ginger ale" and i remember thinking that cranberry juice was an interesting choice for a mid-twenties guy to want to drink on a plane, when the stewardess asked me what i would like.  

she took about 20 orders, then went to the back of the plane to get the drinks ready.

about 2 minutes later, a brunette stewardess showed up at the same row of guys to ask them what they wanted to drink.  i assumed they'd tell her that their drink order had already been taken, but instead they said the same thing, "cranberry juice, diet coke, ginger ale" without hesitating for a second.  the thought actually crossed my mind that they might be slow enough to not realize that they were going to get two separate drinks.

she turned to me to ask me what i wanted, so  i let the brunette stewardess know that my drink order had already been taken, and wanted to point that the 3 guys' orders also had, but i hesitated.  i wanted to see if it was an honest mistake, or what they would say to the stewardess who showed up with the second set of drinks.

well, the brunette stewardess {the one who asked them for their drink order second} showed up first.  they took the drinks, put their earplugs back in their ears, and resumed playing phone games.

a few minutes later, the blonde stewardess showed up, her arms full of two trays of drinks.  she stopped at the row with the 3 guys first.  they all had their heads bent, looking like they didn't see her.  i watched the confusion on her face, then watched her mentally count up the rows to double-check herself, then look down at their drinks again.  finally she shrugged, and walked over to me to give me my drink.

as she handed me my ginger ale, i saw it from the corner of my eye.  the 3 guys looked over at her and busted out laughing.  she didn't notice, but i did.  the whole thing had been on purpose, and even though it was a small thing, it bothered me.

these guys were in their mid-to-high-20's, waaaay past the age where i would have actually expected this sort of thing.  

again, i know that in the grand scheme of life, this doesn't even come close to a big deal.  but i found myself wanting to ask them why they wanted to make things harder on this flight attendant than they needed to be.  why didn't they just do the right thing and tell the brunette stewardess that their drink order had already been taken?  or at the very least, when the blonde one came with the second set of drinks, acknowledge her and apologize for the extra work she'd done?

i stewed about it for a few minutes.

i don't understand purposeful unkindness, and inconsideration for others.  if you're ignorant and doing it, that's one thing.  but i don't understand being unkind just to get a good laugh with your friends.

i became defensive of her, that blonde flight attendant, because i think i saw myself in her.

i remember being a waitress off and on for about 4 years.  and i remembered serving guys just like these, the ones who get their order and act like they're unhappy about it just to get free food. or you hear them snicker as you walk away with their plate in hand because they've requested to have the pickles on their hamburger hand-grilled by the chef.  {true story}  and you do it, as their waitress, not only because you are working for $2.25 an hour and really, really need their tips, but also because if that really is the way they like their pickles, then you want them to be happy.

even those who i would serve food to, that acted like i was a piece of nothing, and tipped me change from their pocket when i had worked so hard and everything had been just as they had asked.

i know that the people who act this way are usually like this either because they were raised by parents just like them and truly don't know any better, or because they're unhappy with themselves. 

but it's hard not to take it personally sometimes, or at the very least be annoyed with the fact that they're letting out their issues to make your life harder.

there are a lot of things about the history of humans that disturbs me.  that anyone would intentionally hurt or be unkind another human being is hard for me to wrap my brain around.  i have "do unto others as you would have them to do unto you" ingrained in my being.  and i feel this way about the small things, like tipping well for food service, or letting someone get in front of you during a traffic jam even when you're late, and like this drink order thing was.

well, after that little incident i tried to get back to my burning sinuses and book.  "the glass castle" is about the resiliency of the human spirit in really awful conditions.  and as i read i realized that this is what life is really about.  not that i've had an awful life, especially compared to the children in that book, but more that in life there are instigators and reactors....and i think much of my life has been spent being a reactor to negative instigators.  letting others' unkind actions hurt me, or even affect me.

i am learning to let these things go, to not take someone else's issues upon myself while still being myself, and not becoming callous.  and some times it's easier than others.  but no matter what, there will always be jerks on the airplane, or road rage in the traffic jam, or business men who are too enveloped in their own lives to tip a poor college student waitress a measly 10-15%. 

unfortunately.

but, there will also always be the blonde flight attendant letting the immaturity of 3 guys go without making a big deal of it, or the nice guy letting people edge their cars in front of his even though he's already let about 5 cars in front of him, or the random family that not only tips well at a restaurant, but then takes the time to fill out a complimentary card about how great their watiress was to them.  

and then the short, tired waitress with dimples gets to stand in the back room by the pies and read their kind words, and smile because this one note made the rest of the unkind people worth it.

fortunately.

the lies that bind us. {part 4}

being continued from:

the lies that bind us.  {part 3}

which was continued from:

the lies that bind us.  {part 2}

which was continued from:

the lies that bind us.  {part 1}

well, friends.

for those that have actually read through all of this continued story i applaud you.  and thank you, because it hasn't been the easiest thing for me to write.  i have left out details that affect others, and just stuck to my part of the story, but i've still felt completely vulnerable to open up this side of my self to whoever stumbles across it. 

and an extra special shout-out to the comment-ees.  you have no idea how much your words have helped me.  my fear was that my friends would not like this soul-baring version of lynsey and i would scare everybody away.  so thank you so much for your supportive words!

i was willing to risk that though, for the sake of writing the truth and living it in hopes that anyone else struggling in a similar way would be able to do the same. 

so here it is, the grand finale.  the last part.

{and yes it is long, so that there doesn't have to be a part 5!}

where i left off was when i finally saw the truth for what it was, instead of what my negative thinking had swallowed me down to believe.

it was extremely sad to me that i had hurt ben along the way of hurting myself, and i realized that all of those entitled and resentful thoughts were not only lies, they were selfish lies.  i thought only i was affected. and i was wrong.

so after that night of being open, and honest it still took me a little while to really face the truth head-on and start fighting the good fight.  but that night was when it had begun.

about a month later, ben's school schedule no longer allowed him to work full-time so he cut back to part-time.  it was the combination of being honest with myself and both of our schedules relieving pressure that gave me the chance to breathe.

i knew things with me were still....off...for lack of a better word, and didn't know how to fix them.

so one night, when i was alone with my thoughts of sadness and guilt and felt inadequate about my ability to fix myself, i knelt down and prayed.

and here is where i will use an analogy to explain what i felt that night.  {this might get a little extreme for those who aren't analogy-people, so bare with me here.}

i felt like i was standing in one of those funhouses at carnivals, in that room with all of the mirrors. the one where you see yourself in all funny, contorted shapes.  and in each mirror, i saw a distorted version of myself.  i saw the mirror that showed me what i felt like i looked on the outside, the mirror that reflected how i felt as a mother, one as a wife, one as a daughter, one as a friend.   i was alone surrounded by nothing but mirrors.  every way i turned, there was a reflection of some side of myself.  there were dozens of me's just standing there, staring back.

so that is where i pictured myself.  in the mirror room of denial, a world i had been creating for 29 years. 

and as i knelt to pray, suddenly all of those mirrors began cracking, and exploding into tiny pieces of glass that was shattering everywhere.

the inadequacies i had felt about myself, the strength that i thought i had been lacking, the beauty that i can never quite see in myself, the ugly that i always see too vividly...all of the lies i had listened to came crashing down.

but there was one mirror left standing.  it had been unable to be seen because all of the distorted mirrors had been blocking it, but once they had shattered it was suddenly visible.

and how do i explain what i felt then?

the girl inside of what had once been a room of mirrors, suddenly saw her self.  her real self.  the true reflection, staring back.  and i wasn't ugly or hideous like i had felt that i was, but there was something wrong.

i saw wounds.  hundreds of them, thousands.  some were scabs that were starting to heal.  others were small scratches.  then there were the wounds that were bleeding.  some of them showing just a trickle of blood.  but a few of them were huge, gaping holes that were hemorrhaging.  

and the real version of myself that i saw for the first time had tears in her eyes.  but also in those eyes was hope, and the desire to heal.

so i had a choice to make.

heather, from the extraordinary ordinary writes,

"Denial and rationalization are broken power tools."

and it is so, so true. 

i knew i had the choice between truth and denial.  i believe we are all given this choice at some point in our lives, and we have to choose between the two.

in my personal opinion, denial is so.  much.  easier.  everything inside of me that night as i was praying wanted to quickly grab the broken house of mirrors and start to build it all back up again so that the girl who needed my help could be forgotten.  i think denial can be addictive too.  once you hop aboard the denial train... where everything is someone else's fault, or that the lies are easier to believe so that you can lay your head down at night and face yourself the next morning....is very hard to get off of.  it's a fast train that doesn't stop and you have to choose to jump!  and roll when you hit the ground so that less of your bones break in the process.

i had lived in denial in one way or another for quite a while and had been too scared to jump not just because of what i would damage when i fell, but what work i had ahead of me once the jump was over.

because to face your truth, to really face it, is work.  probably the hardest work you have to overcome.  because to face it means you accept it.  you accept yourself, just the way you are.  wounds and all.  harsh reality and the whole package.

once you accept yourself though, it is not over.  because who would want to leave someone just standing there, bleeding to death? 

i chose hard acceptance over easy denial.

i stopped letting the lies i had believed hold me bound any longer.

i jumped off of the train, tucked my head down and wrapped my arms around my knees to prepare for when i hit the ground.  and i stepped over the shattered mirrors, and started to put bandages on the wounds of the girl who was bleeding.  one by one.

it was not easy.

but that night, not only did i accept truth, i found something equally as important.

self-worth.

i think that there are many ways people can define their self-worth.  in their mothering abilities, or in their fulfillment in a career, in how they look and the control they have over their bodies, in how they provide for their families, or their sense of humor, or in their intelligence.

but for me that night, it had nothing to do with anything i was doing, or any outside source.

my self-worth came with understanding who i truly am.

a daughter of God.

now for those who don't believe in God, or any type of higher power, i'm sure they will snicker and roll their eyes when they read this part.  but that is because they have not felt it before. either the opportunity has not yet come, or they have chosen to not see it.

but for those who have felt this feeling, even gotten just a glimpse of it like i did, they can attest to it.  it is humbling and empowering all at once.  it makes these daily tasks we call life that we go about performing seem significant and insignificant.  it is seeing your true potential, and loving yourself not just in spite of, but because of your mistakes...

and i know that you can only truly see this by getting past those lies that bind us.  that want to keep us right where we're at, believing that we are alone in this world.  that no one else feels our pain, no one else knows what we've been through, no one really understands us, and no one would really love us if they knew everything.

that is what denial is all about.  it can come in so. many. forms. 

and just because i have seen several people that i love dearly use certain forms of denial, i'm going to point out a few of them:

1)  being in a relationship...any type of relationship...that involves being manipulated, lied to, cheated on, or just plain someone wanting to make you feel less than you are, and saying to yourself, 

"i deserve this,"  for whatever reason it is you want to tell yourself.

it is not true.  and by you staying in this relationship, you are telling yourself and God that you have no self-worth and lying to yourself that if you "had done better here" or "had tried harder there," that the person might have been kinder, or more honest, or love you the way you truly deserve to be loved.  believing that you can change them, where really you are enabling them to continue their bad habits of abuse so that you can continue your habits of self-loathing.

2)  then there is denial in which you stuff painful parts of your life down inside, unwilling to see them for what they were and how they changed you.  instead you say,

"i'm over it, no use bringing it back up again, i don't need to deal with that.  i'm doing just fine."

and you choose to never face that pain, you pretend it never happened, and you hold yourself back from being able to truly work through it...and truly forgive...and truly let it go.  which is the only real way to be free from that pain.  but to stay in denial doesn't ever really make it go away, and it seeps out sideways and continues a cycle that can affect others around you.

again, to quote miss heather:  {because i just love the way she puts things}

"Even if I have been through some awful and ugly things in my life, even those things are not excuses for what I'm doing. Because the truth is that we can even be freed from the most traumatic of things, but only if we seek hope and stop thinking about ourselves all the time."

3)  then there were the forms that i used.  first, the inadequacy piece of denial.  feeling like i couldn't deal, couldn't conquer, couldn't handle it without a crutch.  that things were going to be devastating before they actually had even taken place.  that i was alone, and that i wouldn't be able to do it being alone.

and this way when that crutch i had so carefully set in place left, i left myself completely open for my second denial tool,  

4)  the entitlement form, that said i was just so above my situation.  that i deserved better.  that i had been dealt an unfair hand.  it was prideful and selfish and tricked me into thinking that i was better off without the two in the life who mattered most:  God and ben.  by blaming others for where i was i didn't have to face the truth that i had a wonderful life, a lot of blessings and that hard things happen to everyone, but that i could overcome mine.

i know there are more forms, these are just the ones that are a little close to my heart right now.

so.

what do you do when you decide to stop denial?

well, for me it was about first being 100% honest with those who had been affected by it.  myself, God, ben and any others who had gotten a taste of it.  i admitted my faults, apologized, and sought forgiveness.

then, since i didn't know how to fix my wounds on my own, 

i decided to seek out therapy.

it's easy to say there is a stigma surrounding therapy.  that only crazy people need therapists, or only people with "real problems."  but i didn't think i was crazy, and i had not faced problems that i would consider to be on the "big" side of things.  i was just at a point in my life where i was struggling, and had developed unhealthy patterns of dealing with things, and wasn't quite sure how to work it out on my own.  

{this was even after i really began to see my true self-worth.  just because i had seen it didn't mean i was all of a sudden twinkled into a perfect human being.  i still struggled with the destructive patterns.}

i have also heard some say that since they have "found God," in a matter of speaking, they don't need professional help.  and don't get me wrong, i am a big believer in coming closer to Jesus Christ through prayer, and having him heal your heart.  but i also believe that God put tools on the earth for us to utilize to help us truly get there in a sometimes healthier....and sometimes faster....way. 

during my first visit with a therapist.  i was nervous, and not sure what to expect or even if i would trust this person with all of myself.  and to be honest, for about the first 40 out of 50 minutes, while she asked me questions about my background and why i was there....i fell back into old habits of not believing that someone could accept the wounded person i actually was....and only showed the happy and positive sides of myself.

but the more that i showed just that side, the more i could feel her wondering why in the world i felt i needed therapy.  i became anxious, knowing that i would need to be completely honest, so with 10 minutes of time left with her, i finally blurted it all out in one run-on sentence.  then the tears came with the truth, {which i usually never show in public and certainly never to someone i've just met} and she and i were able to really talk about what was bothering me, and came up with a plan on how to work through it.  how to stop the patterns of denial and anxiety, and now the shame and guilt that had followed.

the beginning of the process started with a whole heck of a lot of positive affirmations.  you know, the "i'm good enough, smart enough, and doggonit!  people like me!" stuff.  well it wasn't as cheesy as that, but i sure felt like a dork doing it.

but what else did i expect?  of course stopping the negative thoughts to change them to positive ones was going to feel foreign to me.  i had never done it before!  and at first i fought the idea.  but then i had another realization:

if thinking allllll of these negative things about me worked for me to believe them, maybe changing these things to positive truths will cause me to one day believe those.

so i started to give it a try.  and it's not like all of a sudden i thought i was superwoman or anything, but i do believe in myself a little bit more.  i'm less hard on myself when it comes to what i look like.  i've stopped comparing myself to others as much.  and i know that i have strength inside of me to overcome difficult trials.

i am changing.

and again, all of it comes back to the self-worth.  to know that i am not alone, that i always have God there with me on my side, is completely comforting.  sometimes i have to remind myself of this, but whenever i do, my attitude is immediately changed.

it's like i have gone from being an empty bucket that is always searching for something to fill me up, to a full bucket that every now and then springs a leak, but then patches itself back up to become full again.  without any help except through God, the tools i've learned in therapy, and myself choosing to access both of those.

aside from therapy, i started to really take care of myself.  and it actually meant doing the opposite of what my 29-year old habit self wanted to do....which was eat chocolates and sit around.  instead, i began to set a list of daily goals that i would accomplish and stick to them.  each focusing on a different part of my life:  physical, spiritual, emotional.  and since that time not only have i lost 20 lbs, but i have further deepened my connection to my heavenly father, to ben and to my children. 

now i have changed from the one-on-one therapy to a group therapy that challenges me in different ways.  but it is so good for me.  it is humbling, and eye-opening, and a way to get to know someone from the inside out.  it is an easy way to feel what true charity is, the pure love of Christ, to love and accept another human being on a level that can only happen when they are vulnerable and willing to change and so are you.

therapy and affirmations and taking care of myself, and working on my relationship with God has helped me to forgive myself, and to love myself in a way i have never had before.

the wounded girl still has wounds, but they are getting patched up carefully, with love and in a way that will completely heal them so that they don't re-open.

i am not perfect.

but i am willing to see the truth.

and i am working.

and i am trying.

and i am

overcoming.

********************

ta-dah!  there it is friends!  it's out, finished, and i can finally sleep at night without words coming to me over and over again at night to get this out.

i'm still not sure why i shared this with the public.  maybe it's to again fight the thoughts inside that says to me that those who see this side of me won't love me for it.  maybe it's because someone else out there could be helped.  maybe it's for me, at a later part in my life, when i want to try to build back up the room of denial and this is my reminder of what to do instead.  for whatever reason, i feel like a weight has been lifted.

thank you again for reading this.  i can't promise it's the last time i will write about it, but i think the next time it won't be such a soul-wrenching blog dump like it was this time.

and since it's now almost 4am, i am going to sleep.

the lies that bind us {part 3.}

i promised i would finish this and i need to do it before we move because i know it will take me a while to jump back onto the blogging train.

in case you have missed the beginning of this story, here are the links:

the lies that bind us. {part 1}

the lies that bind us. {part 2}

continuing on...

ben began his overnight weekend job, and i'm not over-dramatizing this.  it was difficult.  between school, work and sleeping in the broad daylight we literally had one day together as a family during the week.  and it wasn't a normal day that others had free, it was tuesday.  

a month after he started his job, i was called to serve in the primary presidency, and my weekly meetings were tuesday nights.  so we were left with only tuesday during the day to be together as a family.  that was it.

so not only did we not have time together as a family, but we didn't have time as a couple and i rarely got any time away from the kids.  i was on single mom duty almost 24/7, which made me grow such a deep respect and admiration for single moms who do it all on their own.

the time that i did take away from the kids was during those rare hours that ben was home with our one car, and was awake so i could go grocery shopping by myself. 

but looking back, i realize just how much more difficult i made this situation by filling my heart and mind with thoughts of resentment and entitlement.

entitlement:

"i deserve better than this."  

"i didn't sign up to be a single mom, and now look where i am." 

"i have HAD IT.  i am DONE.  i am SICK of this."

"other husbands who get their doctorate degree don't accept full-time jobs because they love their wives and want to actually spend time with them."

resentment:

"ben might be worn out, but he chose this job.  if he wants things to be easier on himself, he could just quit."

"at least he gets to sleep for 7 consecutive hours.  i'm the one who's up all night with a baby and then up all day long with both kids.  wouldn't it be nice if i could get 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep?"

the lies continued to seep through into any hard night where i was on my own with the kids, any moment of loneliness, any party or invitation to do something fun with other families that we had to miss.

during part 1, i referred to a blog called "the extraordinary ordinary" that i love to read, and a post that was written by heather that i unknowingly related to so much during this time.

"A person can think a certain way until that thinking is real and true, even if it didn't start out that way. We can tell ourselves lies until we believe them with nearly our whole hearts. That's what I did, anyway. I thought and thought defeating thoughts until I didn't even know I was thinking them, and then they took root in my head and heart and that's a very dangerous thing to do. A person can waste their entire life trapped like that, thinking they aren't good enough or their marriage isn't good enough or their mothering isn't good enough...and then doing things to stay in the rubble of thoughts. "

4 months after i was climbing my way out of my own entrapping negative thoughts, i read those words and knew that it was exactly what i had done to myself.

i lied to myself, believed the lies, and those lies took me down.

so what happened to me?  

well.  i became depressed, not caring what i looked like every day.  why should i?  the only people i saw 95% of the time were my two kids, and they didn't care.  i didn't care much about prioritizing housework.  why should i?  no one was coming over, and i knew i had all day the next day to do it.  it didn't get out of control but i just no longer took pride in what i was doing, or what i looked like. 

i became lonely.  partly due to the situation i was in, without a car and without any family close by.  but partly due to my choices.  if i was extended an invitation to go somewhere that i had the possibility of going, most of the time i wouldn't.  

i detached myself from others, including ben.  

believing the lie that he chose to accept the job because he didn't care about what i needed caused a chasm between us.  i stopped investing my feelings because the resentment in my heart had taken over too much of it and i couldn't stand being hurt over and over when he would leave me again to go to work.  so we co-existed, like good friends who were roommates.  but not like it had been for the first 7 years of our marriage.  there was no fighting or anything, but the connection was gone, or barely hanging by a thread.

most importantly, i detached my connection with my heavenly father.  i was lazy about praying and reading scriptures, didn't pay much attention in church and only did the bare minimum when it came to my calling.  those small, daily things that keep me connected to my spiritual side were gone.  so i left myself open and vulnerable to anything else that wanted to influence me.

i was lost, but didn't even realize it because i was caught up in the fake-reality that i had created.  i felt like i was just so hard done by, that i deserved better, that i didn't sign up for this sucky situation.  i was stuck in my stubbornness and selfishness and was barely treading water in my life, and treated my loved ones in ways that i'm not proud of.

6 months went by living like this.

there were times in these 6 months that i tried to talk to ben.  there were several conversations that we had about how i was overwhelmed and asked if he could cut back on his hours.  we talked about applying for grad plus loans to make up the difference in salary. i knew that he was stretched even thinner than i was and we would talk about how we could feel ourselves slipping away from ourselves and each other.  and he would try to change his hours, but his job didn't ever address his complaints until he would threaten to quit.  and since he wasn't ready to quit, he didn't push too hard, so his schedule stayed the same.

so.

how did i wake up out of this non-reality and come back to real-reality?

well, this is hard to write about.  i cry every time i think of it, and i have thought long and hard about whether i want to share something that for me, is very personal.  but i feel that the most important thing about my story, is that someone might be able to relate it to their story.  and it might bring them out of where they are, and see things differently.

{i received ben's permission to share it, just so you know.}

it was around thanksgiving time, and it was one of the rare times we had invited friends over for dinner.  after they had left, i was cleaning up and had thought that ben had gone into the bedroom to get ready for bed.  i finished doing the dishes and walked past our family room where the lights had been turned out.  as i reached up to turn off the hall light, i realized that ben had been sitting on our couch the whole time in the dark, not saying anything.

"woah!  you scared me, i didn't know you were there!"  i said to him.

he was silent.

"hey, you okay?"  i asked.  this wasn't like ben at all.

"i don't think you love me anymore," he said quietly.

"what?  what are you talking about?"  i was shocked.

"well, i know that you love me, but i think that maybe your feelings for me have changed.  you love me differently now.  i can feel it,"  he said sadly.  i realized in that moment that i had broken his heart.

and that was it for me.

those walls that i had put up, building thicker and taller as i believed one false thought after another, began crashing down when he spoke these words to me.

now writing about it i realize how small and insignificant it might sound to an outsider.

but for me, it was everything.

because in my head i was thinking, 

"of course i love you!  i never stopped loving you, it is you who doesn't love me!"

and it was at that moment, for the first time in a long time, that i realized the truth.

if he can believe that you don't love him when that's not true, maybe what you have been believing all of this time hasn't been true either.

and i knew.

i began to cry.  

i walked across the room to my husband who was sitting there alone in the dark.  i sat down on his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and through my tears i said,

"ben, i love you.  i have never stopped loving you.  and i'm so so sorry that i made you ever doubt my love for you and that i hurt you."

we sat there for several minutes just holding each other while i cried over the realization that i had hurt the one i love most walking around on this earth.  then we talked for a long time.  about how we were both feeling, and how we had gotten there, and most importantly....how we were going to get out.

and that will be the final part of this story.  the part about facing reality even though it's hard, and understanding how to not allow guilt to swallow you up, and how to forgive yourself and others.  

and most importantly, how to overcome a difficult situation.

and how to do better, and how to make sure that you never allow yourself to be in that situation ever again, no matter what the circumstances may be.

to be continued:

the lies that bind us, part 4.

the lies that bind us. {part 2.}

look at how good i am with the follow-through on this-to-be continued story!

you don't need to give me a pat on the back, i have just done that for myself. but thank you kindly for the offer.

{here's part 1 if you don't want to scroll down.}

so where were we? ah, yes....



there i was, 2 weeks before delivery time. experiencing nightly anxiety attacks about the upcoming prideandjoy that was about to spring forth.

after convincing myself that ben was going to make it all better for me, one day i got to hear these amazing words tumble from his mouth,

"i was offered a full-time, overnight graveyard job on the weekends. i think i'm going to take it."

and that, my friends, was when the protective walls i had built to shut out the panic attacks came crumbling down.

now, before you get all "what is the big deal here?" on me, let me just explain.

when ben and i had talked about him going to grad school, the adviser that was assigned to him told him that it was not a good idea to work while attending school. she said that the school highly recommended not doing it, because school in and of itself is full-time and extremely stressful. we made the decision that we were going to prioritize school, and we would have to live off of student loans.

but for those who have experienced the student life, you also know that it is extremely expensive. ben also picked an even more extremely expensive school to attend, for the basic reason that he would be able to finish it 2 years earlier than most programs. so we were entering into double the amount of student debt that most psychology Phd students were accruing.

also, because he was attending a private school, pell grants and stipends for living expenses were not offered. {to give you a breakdown: the student loan that we were given was for $33,000/yr. ben's school is $27,000/yr. that doesn't include books, or the extra prerequisites that he was taking to catch up for not getting his BA in psychology. so when it came down to it, we were actually in the hole the first 2 semesters.}

to top off all of this awesomness, the economy went kaput! about 1 month after he started school. so the grad plus loans we had applied for were suddenly cut in half. half! we were shocked, and completely broke.

since i was pregnant, we decided that we didn't really have much choice except to have ben look for a job and try to do both school and work.

however.

my understanding was that he was going to try to find something part-time that was during the day, in-between his classes and that he would be home to study at night.

i didn't have a car by this point in the game, and when he said that he was going to accept this full-time, overnight graveyard job, my analytical mind went to here:

1) he is going to be gone now not only almost all day, every day, but now every night and weekend too. and when he was home, he would need to be asleep. after talking through his schedule if he accepted the job, there was going to actually be about 24 hours twice a week where i was basically not going to be seeing him at all.

2) because of his crazy schedule & random locations, i knew that me pulling caleb & the newborn out of bed to take him to work at 10pm and then pick him up at 7am to drive him home and then back to class would not work. so i was going to be on my own, without a car, for 90% of the week.

3) we have no family close by. by this point i had a few friends, but knowing myself i knew that i would probably not have the gumption to ask for help from them if i needed it.

4) keep in mind that i was seriously anticipating a difficult newborn. sleepless nights, doctors appointments, and crying crying crying.

so, i did what any hormonal woman being told that her protective blanket is being ripped off of her would do....

i panicked.

now when i panic, i don't get weepy and high-strung or clingy and emotional,

i go into what ben kindly calls "business tone" and just speak really firmly and become rigid in my opinions.

"this isn't a good idea. i don't like it. i don't agree with it. you can't do it." i said, with my jaw set.

"what? why? we're insanely poor & we need the money." he answered, surprised that i was completely on the defense about a solution he had offered for our desperate situation.

"because," i answered. and since i couldn't bare to speak up about the anxiety i was feeling in my head about how i feared the thought of being left with a shrieking newborn all on my own, i tried different avenues to bring him to my side.

"what about your school? how are you going to function being sleep deprived? you can't get lower than a B or you fail the class and you'll have to re-take it. what about caleb? he needs his dad. what about your church calling? you're going to miss every sunday & will have to ask to be released. what about the new baby? you won't even know her. you'll miss all of those sweet moments in those first few months. they grow up fast, you know," i said all in one breath.

"i know, and those are good reasons, but i just don't know what else to do. we have no money, and i haven't been offered a daytime job yet. i can do my homework while i work, so that's a plus. we've been praying and praying for help and this is what has come up," ben replied gently.

deep down, i knew he was right. but i just couldn't do it. not on my own, not without him. i wasn't strong enough, i told myself.

"no! NO. i don't feel good about it. please don't do it. please. just trust me, something else will come up, i just know it," i began pleading.

and because he is ben, and loves me, and knows that i normally don't say "no" unless i feel strongly about something....he turned down the job.

i gave him a big hug and kiss, thanked him, took a deep breath and pulled back the security blanket to cover myself up.



6 weeks later.


leah was a little over a month old, and had proven herself to not be as difficult as caleb....but she was also no picnic. i know people say "all babies cry" and i get that. i'm no idiot, here. i don't expect newborns to just coo and squeak around when they want something or are upset.

however, our "little sweet pie" as caleb called her... was colicky. and there is a difference between a colicky child and one who cries like a normal baby should. i'm talking daily 10 hours of screaming with about four 20-minute naps during that time. her stomach growled constantly right after eating and we could tell that she wasn't just "crying like all babies cry" but there was something else.

{i wrote about it in the 2 week curse, exorcisms and stung guns, and losing the desire.}

gripe water and gas drops provided minimal relief. we swaddled, bathed, rocked, shushed, all of it. nothing really worked though. so we just hunkered down, and dealt with the situation.

i was so glad that ben was there with me through this and knew, just knew that the only way i was getting through it was with him.

not like i was doing great, by any means. but i was surviving. and even though this was hard, it was much easier than the first go-round we had with caleb.

it was at just this time, 6 weeks after the original conversation, that the bomb dropped again.

ben came to me and said,

"you remember that job that i turned down a couple of months ago? well they called me again and asked if i would re-consider taking the job. i know your concerns but now we're 6 weeks past that time and nothing else has come open as far as financial security. i feel strongly that i need to take it, and provide for our family."

i remember this night vividly.

because it was the night that set me up for what was going to be a long few months of my life. a few months that would cause me to spiral down, down down a sad path that i couldn't break free from until this january. it's what led me to seek help outside of myself and come to a more true place of honesty of discovering who i really was, and why i did the things that i did.

and most importantly, how to change what was broken inside to become better.

but that night, as ben and i discussed and re-discussed our differing opinions about taking the job, we came to a place where we just couldn't find common ground about the decision. ben and i have never been "fighters" in our marriage. we don't yell or call names or say cruel things, and before this night i couldn't even remember a time that we had left a situation still upset with each other. we just always seemed to be able to work out whatever it was, and end peacefully with no grudges or hurt feelings.

however, this time around, something was different. i was different.

you see, 6 weeks before this as i lay awake during those nights full of anxious thoughts, i had started on a very destructive pattern.

i had lied to myself.

and even worse, i truly believed the lie.

saying to myself the words "i. can. not. do. this. alone." was a complete lie. it was me being fearful and not wanting to go through what i had built up in my head that would be an absolutely overwhelming situation.

i was setting myself up for failure. telling myself that i was incompetent and not strong enough. i was afraid, and was so enveloped in that fear that i convinced myself that i was completely inadequate.

but the truth is, i could have done it. even on my own, without ben. because i was leaving out an important fact:

i am not, and never have been, alone.

i know that there is a God in heaven. i know that he knows who i am, and is mindful of me in every situation i am placed. i know that he loves me individually, and that he is with me.

and during those sleepless nights i had forgotten what i knew. what i have known for many years. and the fear crept around my heart and took a hold of it and lied and was so convincing that my faith began to tremble and wither.

the seeds had been planted.

meanwhile, as the 6 weeks were passing, i was still convincing myself that i could not have made it this far without ben. and even though i know now that that isn't true, i didn't then.

that night as ben and i went around and around the subject of taking the job, we finally reached a conclusion.

i told him that i didn't agree with his decision, but that i knew what he was trying to do was the right thing, and i would support him as he accepted the job.

but.

i lied to him too.

deep down, i knew i didn't support him. i knew that i wouldn't be able to play the role of "the happy wife" who is stuck at home all week long by herself and a screaming baby, and a 4 year old who was adjusting to not only a new sister...but a screaming new sister.

and that was when the biggest lie of all popped into my head, and i couldn't get it to leave.

"if ben loved you as much as he says he does, he wouldn't take this job. he would know how hard this is going to be on you and he would realize that, if he loved you enough."


of course i didn't voice these thoughts out loud to him.

i went to sleep, pretending that i was okay with the decision we had come to. but like a self-centered, dejected child i mentally dug my feet into the ground, folded my arms across my chest.



and carried on, believing the lies.




to be continued:



the lies that bind us, part 3.

the lies that bind us. {part 1}

yes, yes, i know.

from the title of this you should probably be snorting a little juice out of your nose thinking of the "part 1" portion of it. seeing as how i never ....actually....finished...this series...of stories. however, i will eventually finish it. girl scout's honor. pinkie swear. cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. and all of that.


however.


i've been alluding to some deep-thoughts postings coming up and this is one i have been thinking of writing for almost 6 months now.

buckle up, friends!

my thoughts about this started rolling around my head in january, but then i put them aside. i couldn't figure out how to write them down coherently. i would talk about it with ben and he was always great about helping me to express myself. {i love the therapist in him.}

then in march, i had been reading a blog called "the extraordinary ordinary" for several months, and in a post she was able to express much of what i had explained to ben but wasn't able to put into words yet.

sometimes blogging can be a complete waste of time, a way to avoid all that i should be doing. i zone out and read about people i have never {and most likely will never} meet in real life. and then bam! it's two hours later and the abandoned laundry and treadmill are still staring at me, untouched.

but then there are times when blogging is exactly what i needed. and that day in march was just that. i connected with a stranger's words, and her thoughts resonated with my own.

i still don't know her personally, but heather shares her story on her blog. she is a mother and wife. she is a writer, and a great photographer. she is also a recovering alcoholic and has been brave enough to share her struggle with addiction to the blog world. she and i have different details in our stories {don't go alerting the masses that i'm an alcoholic because i've never tasted a drop of alcohol so far in my 29 years. just letting you know before your thoughts start getting wild.} but the running themes were the same.

there are times when i am afraid of getting too personal on my blog, of opening up to who-knows-who is going to read this. but when i read what heather wrote her bravery helped erase my own fears that sometimes opening up can be such a good thing. that someday, someone might stumble upon this post and get it. and it will help them, like she helped me.

aside from becoming vulnerable, my other concern about writing this was the religious/spiritual aspect that i thought might cloud or overshadow what was at the heart of this.

when we worked at the group home i started a spiritual blog to keep myself sane during some difficult and dark times that year. there was a purpose in separating the group home side of my life and the spiritual side of my life, and i think at the time it was to give myself a sanctuary from the reality we were in. a separate place to go.

but with this posting, even though i am going to be connecting my religious and spiritual beliefs, i decided that i don't really want to separate it into that blog. not sure why, just don't.

so.


here is my story.


where i can most accurately remembering it beginning...i was 9 months pregnant, two weeks away from giving birth to miss leah. i was extremely anxious about labor and who-knows-what that would entail. but i was actually more nervous about what was going to come after the labor. i was extremely fearful of the newborn baby that was about to enter my life. thoughts of my first newborn experience would come flooding back night after night, keeping me awake.

though i knew that caleb's issues stemmed from a fluke {"single umbilical artery"} that formed within the first few days of becoming pregnant with him, and that there was nothing i could have done to prevent this, and that it wasn't genetic....my anxious thoughts kept asking questions to defeat these facts.

what if they were wrong? what if it is genetic? what if we have to go through the same two years that we went through the first time? what if that experience was just a prep-job for what's to come?

what if this time it's worse???

with caleb it wasn't just about the constant screaming, and the seizures, the gestational problems, the repeated trips to the hospitals, and the meetings with one specialist after another who is searching for the same answers to the same questions.

what i feared most, as i would lay down and stare at my big belly, was myself. my strength, my abilities and my faith.

these thoughts of self-doubt consumed me.

was i strong enough to do this again, if it is the situation i'm presented? have i gotten enough space from the trauma to have re-built my faith in God and in myself?

and in the middle of the night, when my inadequacies and doubt were so acute, i came to the conclusion that i was pretty darn sure that i wasn't strong enough.

{bad time to be doing this sort of self-evaluation check, yes? yes. maybe i should have thought through this one 9 months prior, yes? yes. timing has never been one of my strengths.}

in fact, the more nights that i lay awake focusing on my fear of my inadequacies, the more heightened they became. i got to the point that i convinced myself that i could not. do. this.

but,

since i was already there...and didn't really have a choice in whether or not i was going to do it, i decided to accept my choice of becoming pregnant, and change my frame of mind.

i was able to change my way of thinking from i. can. not. do. this.

to,

i. can. not. do. this. alone.

i practiced deep breathing, and focused all of my energies on the one person i knew that i could rely on. {i know who you probably think i'm going to say, but i'm not.}

ben.

ben, the rock i had leaned on during those horrible days and nights with caleb. the one who was able to handle all of caleb's seizures with a calm voice and understanding that what was happening was beyond our control. who knew exactly what i was feeling and had the same amount of unconditional love that i had for our child. i trusted him as much as i trusted myself.

ben would be there. ben would support me. ben would provide relief when i was at my breaking point. ben would pick up the slack, wipe my tears and talk me through this. ben. ben. ben.

and that is how i would eventually fall asleep on those sleepless nights, by affirming myself that "together we could do anything."

ben did not know most of this, he probably knew about 10%. he had no idea how much stock i was putting in him, and how it had turned from a desire to go through this with him into a need to do this with him. as far as i was concerned, there was no other option.

my dependent voice that was screeching that i could only succeed with ben's help, had quickly changed from being the waterboy on the sidelines to the captain of the football team. and the entire team was desperately clinging to the words offered by their fearless leader that victory over their inadequacies and shortcomings could be achieved.

and this voice told me that aside from the time ben would spend in class and doing homework, he would be there by my side. and i believed it.



however, the powers that be had other plans in store for us both.



to be continued.


{while i was pregnant i wrote a little about this anxiety here, but kept at bay from any readers just how extreme things were getting.}