When J first announced to me his struggle with SSA and his infidelity, I spent the next several weeks on what I lovingly refer to as “Suicide Watch.” Meaning: someone was always with me. At first it appeared as though all of my friends and family had gotten together to come up with a formal rotation but I have since learned that God just orchestrated supporters to reach out when they felt led and it just merely worked out that when one friend left, another rang my doorbell. During those days, I lived in a severe haze. The weirdest part of it all was never knowing what day of the week it was….Thursday? Monday? I had no idea. And then, by extension, I couldn’t tell you what happened yesterday or two days ago. “Did that happen this morning or last week?!” These were regular questions I had and everyone had to help me. It was during those days that I decided just to say “Yes” to everyone’s offers because everyone knew better than me. As the weeks progressed, it took less and less time to know that tomorrow was going to be Wednesday. By the end of August, I had figured out my routine and was in the swing of my new “normal.”
What I did not expect at all however, was that when J returned home from being in Texas for a month, I would revert back to my old slow-minded self. I was surprised to find out that I didn’t know what day it was again! I would sit with friends and they would be talking to me and I would stare intently at them while thinking, “What? Talk slower! I don’t know what you’re saying!…I’m sure this makes sense to you but it’s as if you are speaking another language.” I would smile and nod and absorb about 40% of the conversation. If someone asked me a question, it would take me several long seconds to get the first word out…as though I were waiting for heavy cogs in my brain to start turning over before I could answer.
Could it be that the haze of life was a protection for me? An anesthetic of sorts? Keeping me from lashing out in a clear-minded anger and resentment?
Today is Sunday. I always know Sunday. Sunday is home base for me. I love going to church and being with my community. They love me, encourage me, worship God with me…it’s where I am supposed to be. I still cry during the singing portions of the worship service. Songs that talk about God’s will over my own will are pretty tough but I don’t feel the irresistible urge to shout out “NOT YOUR WILL, LORD! MY WILL! DO WHAT I WANT AND DO IT NOW!”…definitely progress.
The huge question mark that hangs over my head is still…”How long.” How long will I be ‘dumb?’ How long until I’m done crying? How long do I have to be tortured with J’s “relationship” while I live life burdened with responsibility and alone? (Another blog post for another day). This question particularly got to me this week when I woke before the sun to make school lunches, take K to school, come home to shower, take D to school, go to work, therapy, the financial advisors office, the bank, pick up the kids from school, take D to piano lessons, take K back to school for her early call time, take the car to the mechanic, go to the football game to watch K perform, pick up the car and drive back to the school to pick up K after the game and finally pull into the driveway at 10:30 PM…. I was tortured at the image of the guy who was supposed to help me; sitting at home watching TV or going out to dinner…bitterness was opening the door to my heart getting ready to set up shop.
Thankfully, just when I was about to post something very ugly on Facebook about the unfairness of it all, the Lord reminded me that, yes, I carry a heavy burden to care for two kids but man, those kids are awesome and one busy day with them is infinitely better than living a life away from them and giving up the right to hear about the day’s adventures, to watch them laugh together and to speak into their lives every single day. Thank you Lord for protecting me from bitterness when I have clearly been blessed with so much.