Last post was June 19th... time to start blogging again. So much is going through my head it's keeping me up at night. I just need to purge, purge, purge! To get you up to date I want to first post 'My story' which I posted on FB but didn't post here. It's long, fair warning. After you read it, you will understand my need to to purge, to get out my thoughts, to continue driving forward and to not look back. Sorry it's been so long!

Recently a friend asked me a question. It was “So tell me what’s going on with your situation. What happened. ?” And once I got rolling I couldn’t stop. This is what I wrote in response. It is my story and I thought it would be a good idea to share it with you too.

It's a really long story so I'll try to shorten it down as much as possible. Bill and I were married for 10 years. We fell madly head over heels in love with each other. I have to be honest, when we fell in love, we were both married to other people. The guilt I had about having an affair about killed me so when my first husband and I divorced, I left both of them and moved to CA to heal. When I moved back to KC a year later I thought I could stay away from him, but I couldn't. I was still in love with him and we soon started our relationship up again. There were problems from the beginning as you can imagine with him not understanding my pain and guilt over my first marriage failing. It is true that you can be in love with 2 people at one time and it will absolutely tear you apart.

Anyway, we stayed together and then moved in together. Neither of us were Christ followers, as a matter of fact we used drugs and drank and partied. He asked me to marry him and a month later we found out I was pregnant. He was not happy about this as he wanted me all to himself for awhile before we started a family. Christopher was born and the problems between us intensified. Bill was very jealous of Chris and resented my love for my son. At the time I didn't realize it, but Bill became very emotionally abusive towards both me and Chris. I spent all my time trying to please him, trying to figure out what I had done wrong, trying to change. Of course there were good times and I loved him with all my heart. I always thought things would get better.

I'm sure, you being in the profession you are in, have seen this many times before. Anyway, we stayed together, bought a house and had a second child, also unplanned. Things got worse. The emotional abuse escalated into physical and verbal abuse. I still didn't see it though because I was trying so hard to protect my children I only saw his abuse towards them. All the while we continued to smoke pot and Bill was hooked for years at a time on meth. When Jesse was almost 2, Bill took him fishing. He got angry at him for getting too close to the water after repeatedly telling him not to. He picked him up and set him down so hard that it broke his leg.

This was the turning point. Social services got involved, the police got involved and for the first time I admitted what had been so carefully hidden in our household, but just where the kids were concerned. I didn't admit his abuse towards me. I started seeing a counselor for DV. I was totally completely shocked about what I learned. It was apparent that I was a victim, 100%. I had been so busy protecting the boys I hadn't seen what had happened to me. So I began the very long process of becoming a survivor instead of a victim.

Bill moved out after I filed a protection order against him after he hit me one time, just months after he had injured Jesse. He rarely hit me, it was mostly emotional abuse and verbal. He hated me with a passion and yet I still loved him. It was so messed up. When he moved out I immediately stopped using drugs. I believe I had been using them as a way to cope. He was gone for about 6 months and then I hurt my back and couldn't get out of bed. I needed help with the boys so he came to stay and just never left again.

Things were better for a little while but he got back on the meth and it all went downhill again. Ok, I'm going to have to finish this later as I have to go make another run for work (I'm a school bus driver). I'll write part 2 later.


Ok part 2, are you ready? I think its crazy that I have written all this and not felt a thing, like I'm telling someone elses story. I've read what I wrote and you must be wondering why in the hell I kept going back to this man???

Anyway on with the story. He got on the meth again and soon enough he was back to hating me. I couldn't do anything right. We barely spoke, it was horrible living arrangements. I found out he was taking the kids with him to get his drugs. Our marriage was hanging there by a thread but at that point I knew I had to protect my kids even if it cost me my marriage. I turned him in to the DEA or something like that online. Nothing happened. A few months passed and I had not been feeling well. I found a recipe in his stuff that had all this poisonous stuff in it. I thought then he was trying to kill me. So I made the decision to take it to the police.

It turned out to be a fake recipe for meth, something that was circulating the web at the time. I was relieved that he wasn't trying to kill me but the police wanted to know if I wanted him arrested for possession. I had tried everything else I knew how to do to get him clean so I said yes. I knew it would cost me our marriage but our marriage was 98% miserable anyway. I turned in his dealer as well and when he was arrested with the drugs on him, they tried to get him to turn on his dealer. He wouldn't do it. He basically ended up getting off with a slap on the wrist and some probation time but he does have a felony on his record now and always will.

He didn't know it was me that turned him in although others suspected and told him so. On Easter morning 2005, just a month after I turned him in, he blew up at me because the Easter Bunny had brought the boys too much candy and it was going to rot their teeth out. We got into a fight, he threw some chairs around, we scuffled over some tax papers, he threatened to hit me and "make it count" and I called the police. That was it, he left that day and never came back.

Over the next 18 months we went through a very nasty divorce. He eventually found out it was me who turned him in. He had another reason to hate me. He didn't pay his child support and I was a stay at home mom at the time so I had 0 income. He would punish me by not seeing the boys for months at a time. It was absolutely horrible. But I was so angry with him that it consumed me. There wasn't too much room for pain, just anger. I used the DV card every chance I got to blame him for everything. I do want to add that I wasn’t always totally innocent in our scuffles and fights. I knew which buttons to push and I did so on occasion. But when it really came down to it, my reaction to his way of making things seem all turned around and upside down and un-understandable was just that, a reaction to that which made no sense to me and a desperate attempt to make sense of the un-sensible.

I also want to add that for a good portion of our marriage, things would go from good to bad. Just as they talk about in DV counseling, I could tell when the tension started to mount. At times, things were wonderful and he was the sweetest, most lovable man in the world. It was that man that I so loved.

In the meantime, actually before he left the last time, I had started going to church. When I first started all I could do was just sit there and cry through the entire service. I asked for prayers every week. I also went to a Divorce class at the church. But I had no self esteem, I was so beaten down it wasn't even funny. I continued DV counseling and slowly but surely I climbed out of the pit I had been living in for years. But I still didn't think I was good enough.

Our divorce was final in August 2006. Still consumed by my anger and pain, I was diagnosed one month later with breast cancer. (He blamed me for this too). I spent the next year going through surgery, chemo and radiation. I was sicker than a dog. People came out of the woodwork to help. I learned that the world was good. I learned that people were good. But he never helped. Actually he never even asked what kind of cancer I had.

I've had 5 surgeries since my diagnosis and still take medicine to keep the cancer from coming back which has messed me up in numerous ways. But that is not really part of the story.

Because of the abuse he only had 5 hours on every Sunday for visitation. In the summer of 2007, he threatened to take me back to court for full weekends. I didn't want to fight it, I was still much too weak from the cancer. So I agreed on the stipulation that he bring them to church on Sunday mornings. He fought this at first but then he agreed. The surprising thing was that he came with them.

It was uncomfortable at first but I couldn't tell him that he couldn't attend my church. So I sat on one side and he on the other. We started actually speaking to each other civilly after a while. In the fall, we even went and did a couple of things together for the kids birthdays. As winter set in I started feeling that God was putting on my heart that he wanted our family back together. I fought that for a long time, especially after all this man had put me through. I thought no freakin’ way would I get back with him.

A year went by and we continued to do things together every now and then and we actually found that we could be friendly with each other. The feeling persisted that I was supposed to reconcile with him. But I didn't think he had any interest in that and I wasn't so sure I did either.

Also during this time I went to a very intense spiritual, self esteem building seminar called Breakthrough that completely changed the way I felt about myself. I was finally able to see myself in the light that God sees me. I was freed of so many past negative tapes and thoughts about myself. And I received wonderful tools to deal with life and times that I might slip back into my old ways of thinking.

Now, I have to go to a meeting, so I'll write part 3 later. Hopefully that will be the last part! Hope you aren't bored to tears!

Okay, back again and on part 3. I haven't gotten anything done today but that's ok, I'm finding this to be quite cathartic.

While I was driving to my meeting I remembered the first time I realized that Bill still loved me. It was actually in the fall of 2008. We had taken the boys to World's of Fun for Chris' birthday. It was a beautiful day/evening and we were all having a great time. We were all on a ride together and a look passed between Bill and I. It was one of those looks that happens very, very seldom if ever. It came from somewhere so deep inside and left me so breathless that I knew without a doubt in that brief few seconds that he still loved me. One of those looks that leaves you feeling like if you don’t break it, it will actually burn a hole through you. It was a shock almost and it led me to start thinking a little bit more seriously about the possibility that he was changing, that God was at work in his life and maybe there was something to this nagging God was doing in my heart.

On New Years Eve 2008/2009, we spent the evening together with the boys. We went to his place and had an outside fire and shot off fireworks. I had too much to drink and I found myself in his arms. It was weird but familiar, scary but something I found I was enjoying immensely. When i say I had too much to drink I mean it was one of those got to keep one foot on the floor or the world is going to spin too much. He let me sleep in his bed and when I did end up getting sick he took care of me. When I was able to sleep he held me. We did not go farther than that and I was glad about that.

After that, things were different between us. We were more tender towards each other but still both of us were hesitant. It wasn't until I encouraged him to go through BreakThrough which I knew how much had helped me, that I finally gave in to the feelings I'd had for a year and a half about God wanting us to reconcile . I told him my thoughts and I told him I wanted to date him. We agreed to revisit it after he had gone through the first 2 sessions of BT.

He went to BT, but that was a trial all in itself. You see, his ex-girlfriend, Christy, the one he had been seeing since we had separated and had just moved out of his house shortly before Christmas, signed up to go at the same time as him. I was beside myself. I couldn't believe that could possibly in a million years happen. But it did and there was nothing I could do about it but trust the BT process and trust God that He knew what he was doing. After BT1 (there are 4 sessions), Bill and I talked and I was reassured that he was there for him. I wasn't sure why she was there, for her or to get him back. But I had to let it go and let it happen. After BT2, Bill and I went out on a real date and he told me he wanted to see me. We agreed we needed to take it slow, not rush as we knew if we rushed we would implode. This was in March.

Since then, we have been seeing each other regularly. He was sweet, he was much more patient. He was loving. He told me he loved me regularly and that he believed that God wanted us together as well. He helped around the house, we talked about plans for the future, we spent lots of time together as a family, he stayed with us most weekends. We went to church together, we prayed together, we worked together as far as the kids were concerned. I really believed he had changed and that we were doing the right thing. Things were good and I was happier than I had been in a very, very long time.

We did have a few issues about his old girlfriend, but we were always able to talk through them. I couldn't understand though why some of her stuff was still at his house if he didn't care about her anymore. He also let her come into his house during the week and do her laundry. I didn't get that either. But I didn't push it.

I planned a vacation to TN for late July, early August. I invited him to go with us. He said he wanted to and was planning on it. But then work got in the way (or so he said, now I don't know what to believe), and he couldn't go with us. So the boys and I went to KY and TN for 2 weeks. The first week we were gone Bill and I talked on the phone several times a day. He told me he loved me when we hung up. Then the 2nd week, we were camping in the mountains and couldn't get cell reception so we didn't talk. He seemed upset with me but didn't convey that directly. When we left the mountains and headed back home we talked but he didn't tell me loved me at the end of the conversations. I decided he just needed a little space so I backed off to give it to him.

When we returned we went out to dinner, just the two of us and had a wonderful conversation. He told me I was positively glowing. He was taking a class that weekend so I didn't think much of it that he didn't stay with us. The next weekend we had the Susan G Komen Walk for the Cure. We stayed at the Westin Hotel the night before the walk. We were there with a few other members of my cancer support group. He kept his distance from the others but again I didn't think much of it, just that he was feeling like he didn't fit in or something. We had a great time and all seemed well otherwise.

The next weekend was his weekend with the kids even though we hadn't really been following that too much since he always stayed with us. On Friday he came and got the kids before I got home from work. He didn't call and tell me he was going to do this, he just did it. Red flags went up but he said he just wanted to spend some time alone with them, he hadn't been able to do that much lately. Saturday, they all came over and we went to the pool and spent the day and evening together watching a movie. When we were at the pool he was distant and never touched me or kissed me. Red flags again. He talked about how he was cleaning house, he was going to stop drinking and using drugs (he was still smoking pot on occasion), eat better, start going to the gym again, get closer to God, read the bible. Well I thought these were all good things. He said he was tired of "being on the fence". When I questioned what he meant by that he just said he was tired of not being all in as far as his relationship with God. That night when he and the boys left he walked out the door without so much as a hug. It was then that I finally knew something was terribly wrong. But I still just thought he needed some time, some space. He said we would talk the next day.

I was actually mad at that point. The next morning at church I sat by myself. He didn't talk to me except to hand me a check for some money he owed me. That afternoon when he brought the boys home, he sat me down and said that he liked the way we were working together with the boys but he didn't want to see me anymore. He just wanted to be friends. I was completely shocked and I immediately blew up. I didn't give him a chance to explain, I just lost it. I cussed at him, I said some things I shouldn't have and he left leaving me shocked and hurt and completely confused.

I immediately came inside after he left and sent him an email telling him to leave me the f alone and that I didn't want to see him or talk to him. I knew even as I wrote it that it was a bold faced lie. I was crushed. But it was me trying to protect me.

So he stayed away. I cried uncontrollably every day. I just didn't get it. The next weekend I called him and just asked him to please give me an explanation for all of it. He wouldn't really, but he did say it was because I hadn't changed. I still kept the house the same way. He talked some about this new group he was going to called Celebrate Recovery. We got into it a little bit and he said people were telling him that they totally understood why he left, he said very sarcastically how perfect I was and that none of it was my fault when I tried to point out that I didn't understand what happened, that I thought everything was fine and I couldn't meet his standards, as no one would ever be able to. I was at a very low place and I begged him not to do this to me. He wouldn't hear any of it.

I continued to be blown away by it all. In spite of it, I believed it to be some kind of spiritual warfare that could be overcome once he just came to his senses. Once he just realized he was in Satan's grip. I clearly saw the old patterns had emerged. He was turning it on me, making it my fault. I understood clearly it wasn't my fault but I was still devastated.

I wrote him a letter and I apologized specifically NOT for my feelings of anger, betrayal, hurt, disappointment, etc. but for my reaction to those feelings. He was using my bad language when I blew up at him to accuse me of not being a good Christian. I left it at that. That was all I wanted to say to him. He wrote me an email and said how prayers were answered. I wanted to let him know not all prayers are answered but I didn't. I offered a peace offering by telling him he could take the boys to Arkansas for Labor Day Weekend which was something he had mentioned he wanted to do before all this happened. That was in addition to his regular weekends.

When he came this past Friday to pick them up, he said he was running late because he was at a church service. Since he's always gone to my church I asked him what his sudden interest was in this new church. He said a friend invited him. I said what friend. He said he didn't want to fight. I didn't let up, what friend? He said Alicia. It all clicked into place in that split second. I said where did you meet her, he told me at our church. He said something about how spiritual she was but my blood was boiling and I blew up again. Reacting to the knives that had just been pierced into my heart. I lost it again, cussing at him right in front of my children. He took the boys and left.

I came inside and the pain that coursed through me was physical and emotional, reaching right down to the very core of my soul. I threw up, I sobbed from a deep gutteral place. I just wanted to die right then and there. It was an awful, awful, feeling. Devastated, betrayed, hurt... none of them were strong enough words. Friday night was awful. I slept very little, cried a whole lot.

The next morning I called the boys and apologized for what I had done. And somehow I made it through the weekend. I wanted to drink myself silly until the pain was gone but instead I helped out at the church, I spent time in the prayer room and I went to a Saturday night service at the same church he had been at with his new girlfriend the night before. I sobbed the entire service and prayed with a very nice lady afterwards. Her words comforted me at least until the next morning until I fell apart all over again. The whole weekend was like that. Ok for a little bit and then a complete basket case.

I had the opportunity to talk to quite a few people and all were just as shocked as I was. But that shock wouldn't be my last. When Bill brought the boys home Monday night we talked. He told me and I quote, "When I met you so many years ago, you took my breath away. Now I have met someone who not only takes my breath away but knocks my socks off. And she is so incredibly spiritual. You are spiritual, but not like her". When I asked him what about the fact that we were trying to reconcile, he responded “You were trying to reconcile, not me”. I said so were you just using me all this time? He said, no he wouldn’t call it using me but it was just easier to do things the way we were doing them then to fight all the time. (More excuses to make him feel better… that is not at all how it was). I guess the daggers from Friday night didn't do the job so he jabbed a few more in. He reminded me again that I hadn't changed. So suffice it to say I sobbed myself to sleep after tossing and turning for hours. I got very little sleep and then woke up before my alarm went off crying again. It's been a tough day.

But I think any hope I might have still had that he would come to his senses is now snuffed out. I can't compete with knocked his socks off. I have never been enough for him. It is not enough that I am enough for me, I have never been and never will be enough for him. Crushed yes. Dreams are shattered. In more pain than I can remember. He knocked me on my ass again. Let me know in no uncertain terms that I wasn't good enough.

One of the things that I've never understood is how everyone else around me can see my heart, can see my goodness, can love me because I am a good person. But he can't. It is what hurts the most.

So that is my story, and I didn't do too good of a job of keeping it short. Sorry about that. I need to get the little one to bed. Thanks so much for listening.