I have been absent from my blog here for quite some time. I’d like to say I regret it, but honestly regret isn’t something I feel very often. I needed time to adjust to a medication that I now love, time to deal with my feelings about my husband choosing to divorce me, and time to just be.
I wasn’t sure how to address my divorce. I wasn’t sure if I should even address it publicly. I was angry, I’m still feeling a little bitter, but most days I feel light. Maybe it’s from not being in that relationship any more. Maybe it’s a product of my antidepressants. Either way, I feel like everything is going to be just fine.
While I was married I realized I was married to someone who didn’t feel the need to explain what he was feeling until it boiled up and he would be yelling at me. Honestly that’s the one point I feel bitter about. I was by no means perfect in the communication department, but I remember so many times stopping, catching and holding my breath, and pausing for a moment so I could say what I was thinking without getting angry; because I’ve spent so many years in a constant rage I feel like I’ve come a long way in learning to control how I say things.
Granted that’s all my on the inside trying to see out and that’s never an accurate picture of yourself.
My fellow Mormons should be aware of how big of a commitment getting married in the Temple is to us. I’m not sure my ex-husband really got it. We were married 6 months when he decided he didn’t want to be married to me anymore. Six months. That’s what it took for him to realize that I hadn’t been exaggerating about my mental illness, that depression isn’t something that takes a couple of weeks and a new job to get over, that the covenants he’d made in the temple weren’t as important to him as having a lukewarm life filled with nothing hard.
I said things while in the middle of breaks that I don’t regret saying. Made threats when I couldn’t stand feeling like I was being abused anymore. I’m not sorry. Yes I realize that sounds incredibly uncompromising and uncompassionate. I can’t say that I care.
There isn’t going to be some great revelation at the end of this article about showing compassion and love to the ones who hurt you. Sorry, this isn’t the place for that kind of thing. There is however a coming to terms.
Several years before I got married, during one of my first General Relief Society meetings, I had the distinct impression that I would be just fine if I never got married. I immediately rebelled against the idea. During this time I was just trying to leave behind addiction and find someway back toward to the light of the gospel. (I’ll discuss that some other time.) And at this time I was still desperately clinging to the idea of finding love and growing to be better at marriage than how I perceived my parents marriage to be. (Which has always been full of insane fighting.) What I have always wanted above every other goal in my life is to be a mother. It’s something I feel deep in my bones, have felt since I was a very little girl. So the idea of never getting married was not ok with me.
When I first met my husband I thought, this is the one. This is the one I’m going to marry in the temple and spend the rest of eternity with. I’d prayed about it. Spent time in the temple contemplating it. And always got the feeling that everything is going to be ok. (Let me pause and say that that is unusual for me. Nothing ever feels like it’s going to be ok. At best it’s a feeling of; Whatever you want to do, just do it with conviction.) So I married him.
Then, when we were waiting through 6 months more of legal separation I went with my mother to the temple and again, sitting there feeling lost, I got the feeling that everything was going to be ok. It was hard to hold onto that feeling, but it was there and I tried to remember it.
…It was hard. It was so hard. Emotionally speaking. I don’t like talking about the things that feel hard to me because I know there are millions out there struggling with harder things. But for me this was excruciating. I had trusted a very inexperienced man with my heart and when he got it, he realized it wasn’t perfect and didn’t feel like he was strong enough to help fix it, so he gave it back in a paper sack with a get well soon card attached.
Now I don’t feel a lot of things when I think about him and the things we went through. I can work myself into anger, but I can do that with a lot of things and I’ve learned to take that conscious step away from it and put it out of my mind.
I do feel much more powerful than I ever have in my life. I think back to that impression that I will be fine if I never get married and I’m no longer afraid of it. I’ll move on with my life. Maybe even still find a way to be a mom in some unconventional way. And I’ll continue to look for that feeling that things are going to be ok, even when they are hard.