duunnn dunnn...duuuunnnn duun... Oh no!

     duunnn dunnn...duuuunnnn duun... duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnn dunnn.  Ok, I confess.  I asked Siri how to type the beginning the the theme from Jaws. No, I was not attacked by a great white shark this week.  It was something scarier.  That dreaded 'F' word.  Yep.  The flu.
     Somehow I've managed to outrun the flu for over 56 years.  I've never had a flu shot and don't understand why normally healthy people take them.  And, if I've ever even had a hint of that dreaded seasonal nemesis, I don't remember it.  So, I'm pretty sure I can say this was my first experience.
     Boy.  When it hits, it hits.  Monday night was spent eating at my favorite restaurant with my youngest son.  Tuesday morning I woke up with the feeling that something just wasn't quite right.  I tried to shake it off.  Talk to myself.  I cheered myself on as I got ready for work but my back flips and high kicks weren't as enthusiastic as they usually are.  So I dropped a thermometer in my purse, just in case.
     By the time I finished a short presentation, chills had hit me a couple of times.  I wrapped up a few things at my desk as my head hurt worse and worse and my temperature got higher and higher.  By the time I knew I had to leave, I was ready to be snuggled up in a blanket and just hidden away in a dark corner somewhere.
     Unfortunately, I knew I needed to go sit in a clinic and wait for a real diagnosis.  So I did.  It was a newer, nice clinic and my wait wasn't as long as I've waited in the past, but every minute was long and painful.  I did manage to joke with the nurse that I wasn't a fan of the 'f' word.  She told me I would like the nurse practitioner who would be in to see me and apparently informed him about my ban of that word.
     "So you don't like the 'f' word" he said almost immediately.  "Then how about the 'i' word......influenza."  Wow.  I guess he thought he was really funny.  "They told me I would like you" I replied, sounding as annoyed as I could muster.  But yeah, he was nice. 
     I left with instructions and a prescription.  My youngest son was still in town so he ran a couple of errands for me before leaving.  I then spent most of the next 48 hours asleep.  Not getting up unless I didn't have a choice.  Sharing sleeves of crackers with Pippa my Pomeranian on the occasions I felt like eating but mostly so I could take my meds. 
     Finally, on Thursday afternoon, I made myself take a shower for the first time since Monday night.  (At that  point, I'm sure it was a good thing that I live with just my dog!)   After not brushing my almost waist length hair in over 48 hours and spending most of that time in bed, even a shampoo and lots of conditioner didn't do the trick.  Getting the tangles out was exhausting!
     So, what did I learn from all of this?  Well several things actually.  1.  It's ok to be still when I need to.  2.  It's ok to not shower if I'm sick.  3.  That I still enjoy a quiet day at home but the being sick part was a bit much.  4.  And that I still have no plans to get a flu shot next year, or ever for that matter!
     We often fear things we've never experienced.  Just like I had a dreaded fear of the flu.  Not that I look forward to getting it again or anything, and I hope I never do.  But I've made it out the other side.  Well, almost.  I'm still kinda tired.  And I know I'm going to make it through other things too. 
     "No weapon formed against me shall prosper."(Isaiah 54:17)  I love this verse.  It doesn't mean we won't have problems or that weapons won't be formed against us.  It means, that if we trust the Lord, those weapons may hurt us, they may be used against us, but they won't win.  I had to relax, be still, at let the my body heal from the flu.  We must relax, be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10) and let Him do what He does best, be God. 
     So yeah, even having the flu can teach us a lesson.  Now I need to ask you a question.......Do you know Him?  Would you like to?  I'd love to introduce you to Him. 

It's Time Again

     Nothing in this blog was written to hurt anyone else.  This roller coaster of healing has had many more ups and downs than I could have ever imagined.  I was so up just a week ago.  But, as I was reminded this week by my therapist, I am still sick.  I still have PTSD.  I still suffer from anxiety and depression.  Intrusive thoughts harass me at the most inopportune times.  Writing has always been a way for me to deal with things.  As my youngest son pointed out, this blog is an emotional outlet that I really need.  
     Therefore, I am working hard to realize that my healing is just as important as anyone else's.  That, if I need to say it here and that gets me one step closer to where I need to be, then so be it.  I don't need to apologize for it.  I need to take care of me for a change.  Because, when I take care of me, my kids do better as well.  And just maybe, I hope and pray, something I've gone through will help someone else.  

****Possible trigger warning for those with with PTSD or trauma related conditions.  This blog is not suitable for children.  It is a very serious topic and might be hard for some to read.****


                                                             It's Time Again

     Welling up inside to the point of drowning, there are some things it's time to get out...again.  My heart is actually pounding as I type this.  But I know it has to be done.  Now.

     It's time again.  But this time it's even more personal.  I can't share names.  I won't share names.  It would hurt too many people and stir up things from as far back as over 50 years ago.  But my heart is really pounding now so I've gotta start this.

     When did it actually start?  The cheating I mean.  I've recently been told by one of his former co-workers that it was going on almost 25 years ago.  I didn't have a clue.  I was told that he would go to one job and 'complain' how the women he saw during the course of the day on his other job would 'use' him sexually.  One man apparently got tired of it and told him basically he was telling it backwards. 

     I remember one day in particular when he stopped by our house during his day on his other job.  We hadn't been arguing.  As far as I knew, all was well.  I just wanted a simple kiss.  But he kept trying to keep his face away from me.  He said he had been in convenience stores and his mustache smelled like smoke (smoking was allowed in certain places back then).  I told him I didn't care and just wanted a kiss.  I never told him what I tasted.  But is was apparent he had been with another woman prior to coming home.  

     Was that when it started though?  A co-worker at that job told me how he and another man would brag at the end of the day about the number of women they had had on their work route.  The other guys knew he was married and had small children.  One man tried to tell me what he was doing.  But the mention of that man brought disgust from him.  So I chose to believe the one I had pledged my life to and not the one who told me the same type of thing I was hearing from others.

     What about that time he was in another city for almost 2 weeks for training?  We were newlyweds.  I couldn't wait to see him when I picked him up at the airport.  Of course I had wonderful romantic ideas of how it should be.  But it was nothing like that at all.  Married 4 and a half months and he barely looked at me.  In fact, he looked right over me like he was looking for someone else.  Walked next to me but that was about it.  A quick peck on the lips, or half way on the lips, and let's go home.  And once there, he treated me nothing like a bride.  Yes that was over 28 years ago.  But it hurt my heart.  Why didn't he cherish me?   It was all about him.  

      Christmas happened a couple of days later.  Then he was off again, out of town for a few days.  This time driving.  More classes and a test.  And the first time I knew he disappeared.  Calls to his hotel room.  Calls to the police in that city to see if there had been an accident.  Something had to be wrong.  Hours later he called.  Excuse after excuse.  Drinks with another guy in the class because the guy told him he needed to forget me.  Needed to forget me!!!!!!!!  Please!!!!!!!!  Then he said he turned his ankle going back to his car and had trouble driving back to his hotel.  Said it took him a very long time.  I don't know...........

     Whenever it started, it was wrong.  But, somehow, he's always found a way to blame me.  Never himself.  Occasionally he blamed someone else.  Like the time he blamed the husband of the woman because the husband wouldn't get a better job.  Somehow he felt it was his duty to have sex with the man's wife because the man didn't have a good enough job to suit the wife.  Crazy thing, the woman's husband was the maintenance man at the assisted living facility where my mother in law lived so this woman's husband saw us and could do nothing about it.  Poor guy.  Plus, he was well known for sleeping with the CNAs at the facility too.  (I can completely understand the humility felt by that poor maintenance man, knowing the same man was sleeping with the Certified Nurses Assistants he worked with and with his wife.)  How embarrassed I was after my mother in law no longer lived there and I was told about it by a resident who had known me for years.  So, every time I was there taking care of my mother in law, they all knew.  I didn't but they did.  

     It's hard.  Part of my anxiety comes from knowing that there have been so many women.  As many as I'm aware of, I know there are more.  He was on dating websites as a single and as a swinger.  I don't understand.  How could anybody live that way and then come home to his family and pretend to be normal?  His disappearing had become a way of life for us.  So, when he was home, we were thrilled, relieved, and happy.  Even if it was only for a short time.  

     Patterns appeared at times.  If the kids and I were at church on Wednesday night, he would come home while we were gone, get his clean clothes, and leave before we got back.  There is no telling how many times I've come home, headed straight for his underwear and sock drawers, and counted to see how many were there.  I became an expert in inventorying his clothing.  

     There was never a care for what it did to any of us.  Lies.  Cheating.  Cheating on the ones he was cheating on me with.  Can I back this up with fact?  Yes.  And my heart is still pounding.

     So here it goes.  When I was a young child, I was molested by someone.  That is what I will not go into detail about now.  But I told him about it and how it bothered me at times.  Certain things he wanted to do or wanted me to do for him.  I had suffered trauma.  Sometimes he would do something that would trigger memories.  I couldn't get him to understand that.  I've even kicked him away from me when those memories hit me.  He didn't like that.  Didn't understand.  Didn't care.

     A caring person would show compassion.  Love.  Concern.  Patience.  Instead he ridiculed me.  Accused me of pretending he was that person who molested me and accusing me of wanting him to be that person!  It makes me sick just thinking about it.  How could anybody be so cruel?  I don't understand.  Especially being that cruel to someone they vowed to love and protect.  It hurts.  It just hurts to a depth I don't know that I could ever explain.  

     Shame.  It didn't matter to him if I was comfortable physically, mentally, spiritually or emotionally.  He was going to do what he was going to do.  And if I didn't agree and let him do what he wanted or do what he told me to do, he informed me I didn't care about him.  That I was not taking care of my man.  

      Often he would say that it was just us and I should want to please him.  I don't understand how it was just us when he was with so many others during the same time frame.  How did he block them out?  They had come to my door, harassed me on social media and even at my job.  I even found out that my daughter and I sat behind one at a wedding.  The ones I knew about popped up in my head many times when we were alone together.  So how on this earth was it just us???

     He forced me.  Yes.  I said it.  I may get it trouble for saying it.  I don't know.  And that's not the word I would prefer to say here but that's how I'm going to say it for now.  But it happened many, many times.  I would tell him no and he would anyway.  One time was at his work.  There was no door on the room.  I told him no.  He pulled me behind a chair.  I kept telling him no.  He kept going.  I was afraid to fight him off too loudly because his co-workers were just outside, on the other side of the wall.  I could hear their voices at times.  There was no way for me to stop him.  I tried.  And I've tried reporting it but no one wanted to listen.

     For the last several years it happened more often than not.  He was so forceful that I would have physical issues for several days afterwards.  Not to mention the STDs.  Repeated STDs.  He has accused me many times of getting them from someone else.  I don't understand.  How could he accuse me when he knows what he has done?  I've only been with him.  

     He filed for divorce almost 2 years ago.  I didn't know.  He had said he was going to but he had said that off and on anyway.  So I didn't know.  He came home like all was well.  Slept with me.  The usual force that I had, somehow, grown to consider 'normal' even though it was miserable.  I found out about 10 days later that he had filed.  But he continued to come home.  In fact, he came home more after he filed than he did before.  

     He didn't want emotions involved.  Just physical.  And he wanted me to say words I refuse to say.  I had TV Guardian when my kids were little so they wouldn't even hear inappropriate language.  So he knew I wasn't a fan of that kind of language.  But he kept saying "it's just you and me" and would try to force me to say that word.  He wouldn't call it love making.  He just wanted me to use that word.  Call it that word.  I wouldn't.

     It's been a year this month since the last time that happened.  I got very sick afterward and had to be treated with medication.  He tried to get me to be with him after that.  I had excuses.  About 6 or 7 months ago he asked me if I realized we would never lay together that way again.  I don't remember my answer.  And, after that, he turned it around on me and told me he was the one not interested in me.  

     I used to dread the thought of never having physical relations again.  But, since I've realized the abuse I've been through all these years....abuse done by the person who was supposed to take care of me to the point of giving his very life....I can very easily say that I don't mind it a bit.  It is better to be alone and not abused than to live like that.  I'm so thankful I know that now.  

     I still suffer from anxiety, depression and PTSD.  But I'm getting better!  And I'm still married.  I'm not sure why.  But I'm trying to leave it all in God's hands.  

     My heart is still pounding because I know I have to proofread this now.  And that's like reliving it all over again.  But it will be ok.  It's already better.  Just getting it out in words.  

Please Don’t Throw Me In That Briar Patch!

     Have you ever read any of the Uncle Remus stories?  Well, the Uncle Remus story of  Brer Rabbit and the tar baby keeps coming to my mind lately. Not that I’m a huge Uncle Remus fan or anything. But because I am so happy in my briar patch!
     You see, I’ve realized lately that I am a lot like Brer Rabbit in that story and I didn’t even realize it til now. That being said, the story goes that Brer Fox basically set a trap for Brer Rabbit. Brer Fox knew just what to do to trap Brer Rabbit. And he caught him. Brer Rabbit got stuck on a ‘tar baby’ Brer Fox had set out beside the road. After catching him, Brer Fox wanted to torture Brer Rabbit in the worst possible way and thought out loud about just how to do that. Now  Brer Rabbit figured out how to out  fox Brer Fox. Every time Brer Fox would name a torture, Brer Rabbit would agree but add ‘please don’t throw me in that briar patch’.
     Of course Brer Fox did just that. He threw Brer Rabbit in the briar patch. Right where Brer Rabbit wanted to be. Because that was his home. Where he was born and raised.
      While I haven’t done one thing to trick Brer Fox, I can say that home is right were I want to be. At home. My home.  I love my home.  And I love being at home.
     It took me a while, but I’ve started remembering. Remembering how I had plans when I bought my first house. To live in it alone and then adopt kids. I never planned to get married. But, the next thing I knew, he was always there and proposing. When I wanted to wait six months to get married, he refused to wait. So we got married in 6 days instead.  I had owned my own home for just over a month and was already married.
     I remember wondering just what I had done only  hours after the wedding. But I had made vows and I would keep them. Even though something didn’t feel right. Something wasn’t complete. Brer Fox had gotten his way. And I didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. I was stuck on the tar baby.  And I had no way out.
     Over the years, things got crazier. Brer Fox tried to hide indiscretions from some people but bragged about them to others.  I raised a family.  (And I wouldn’t change that part!  I have the best kids!) He kept telling me how people didn’t like me. But I’ve recently discovered that it’s him they didn’t like. That’s a story for another day.  I was still stuck to the tar baby Brer Fox had set out, unable to breathe at times. Wanting out of the pain and struggles but afraid and believing I had no choice.  And the more I struggled the more stuck I got.
     Unfortunately, my release from the tar baby trap didn’t come as quickly as Brer Rabbit’s. But, when I realized recently that I’m right where I want to be, I felt like Brer Rabbit outsmarting Brer Fox!   For years I was afraid of being alone. Then, recently, I remembered I LOVE being alone!
     The evenings I spend by myself are lovely!  I’m not being punished or pining away for love. I can clean house when I want. Decorate how I want. Sleep late on Saturdays. Leave when I want. Come home when I want. Just like I had planned almost 29 years ago when Brer Fox set out that tar baby to trap me in the first place.
     There are times I don’t talk to or hear from anyone, other than the Lord, for hours. Other days I’ve communicated with all 5 kids, friends, relatives, and then some. And that’s all right. Like Brer Rabbit, I’m in my briar patch!  No longer afraid, but happy. Joyful. Thankful. And looking forward to the future. God knew I would be happy in this life. And I’m glad I’m in my sweet little briar patch.

Candlelight

     Since I was like 7 years old I had wanted to do it again. I had kept it in the back of my mind almost 50 years!  So I determined several months ago that it was time. Time for what you ask?  Time to make ice candles!
     I googled directions and saw some gorgeous candles. Reasoning that I had made one oh so long ago, back in the olden days, when we used a simple page from a crafting book for Vacation Bible School, there was no way I could fail with all these instructions.
     So I gathered the almond milk cartons I had been saving (a little different than the whole milk ones with the Borden cow from way back when), the wicks, food coloring, wax and ice.  As I melted the wax in the pan, I could hardly wait to recreate my treasure.
     I poured the wax into the carton of ice and could hear the crackle of hot meeting cold. Somehow I had managed to duplicate the color I had made in my youth. It was going to be perfect!  So I just couldn’t stop there.
     Two more candles. One all white and one that was red and white. Wow!  I could even give these as gifts!  This was easy. Maybe I could start a new trend. I burn lots of candles so I could save money making them for myself even. The possibilities were endless!
     Then came the time for the unveiling. Or, rather, the pealing off of the almond milk cartons.     Hmmmmm......  Not exactly as I had planned.  Three candles that looked good from some directions but not one that could stand on its own.
     I must say I got a little discouraged at that point. A stove covered in splattered and spilled wax. And not one candle that could be displayed. Well, at least not as I had imagined. And if I was going to have a messy kitchen, surely I could get at least one good candle out of it.
     Then, today, I got them out. I set them up. Together. What appeared to be a mess separately, made this pretty arrangement. You know, that’s how it often is in life.  Separately, we seem like a mess and can’t stand alone.  Broken parts. Holes. But, when we lean on each other, we shine brighter. We gain strength from each other.
     I’ve tried to do things on my own for a long time. But God had a better plan. Oh it’s ok and even good to stand on your own. But, there are times when we need to lean on others. And I’m so thankful for those the Lord has given me to lean on.  Together, we shine brighter.