is the energy level I am currently running on. Some may call it depression, burn out (I am unsure what else you might be able to think of.) Empty, is the word I am choosing. Everything in my life is suffering from personal neglect.
My husband and I had agreed to reconciliation on Labor Day 2020, and before the week was over he reneged on our entire reconciliation agreement, setting a date for his departure for the end of November 2020, just in time to deliver a seemingly, extra gut punch of separating from me on my 40th birthday. As we moved in August 2020, he told me he found God and needed me, and my kids. Something changed entirely within him since then and has kept me heartbroken, isolated and unappreciated, despite our struggles, I had hope and expected real change in our relationship. Everyone around us has been impacted by our emotional hell. He decided around January 2021 to not end our marriage. For four months now I (not we) have been trying to do some very personal healing and hard work.
I see that I haven’t written a single blog post in 2021. Nothing in my life is the way I expected it to be due to stressors in my personal life. Powering/pushing through just is not working anymore. (My brain is unwilling to choose a numb mode, and just get through each action.) Today I will barely shove a frozen pizza or two in the oven. I ask others for help in my home but that creates waves of an impending civil war, so nothing and I mean nothing gets finished. I stopped fighting with my family. I do not want anyone to grow bitter and feel overworked and underserved like I currently feel. I also stopped taking care of everything and everyone though, because that is contributing to my feelings of empty.
In the months of my absence here on the blog, tumultuous weeks ensued. I cried daily and could barely get off the couch, my husband threatened to throw me and my children out on the streets he wanted to file a legal eviction instead of just letting me have the apartment. The fights were so bad, and I was so reactive, I started packing his stuff, I stepped so far out of character. The cops were called a couple of times, my husband was interested and determined to put me in jail, but the cops requested simply that I leave, and I had put in a call to the local women’s shelter. The one thing that kept me from leaving was that my kids didn’t really want to go to the shelter. They wanted to each go to a friends/any other place that was not a women’s shelter. I didn’t want us all to separate. I took my meds for mental/health on the final night I remember us fighting in November (around Thanksgiving), and I feel asleep on the couch. A couple hours later the cops knocked on the door. I explained to them that nothing further had happened since they had visited us earlier in the day, I didn’t understand why they had returned. My son was having an incident right in my house, right under my nose, because of all the physical and verbal altercating that had occurred with my husband, I didn’t know he was having his own personal crisis/trauma inducing moment. He ended up in the hospital, where I stayed with him long as I could until he was moved to a pediatric facility. At that point all that mattered to me was my kids, I was at super peace with my husband leaving on December 1st after these specific events. My husband biked to the hospital where my son and I were, and insisted we talk, the staff felt uncomfortable leaving us alone, so I sat in the waiting room and spoke with my husband in what I felt was a safe public place.
My ex husband, (my children’s father) moved back to the state I live in with his children the day after my son’s medical event. He realized he needed to be here for his children. My son was released from the hospital on Thanksgiving day2020, which was not expected, but a definite blessing, and I spent the day with my ex husband, kids, nephew, his kids, wife, and two of their friends. My current husband then suddenly began having back issues and needed me to take him to the emergency room. I had seen enough of hospitals for a few days, but my husband refused to use Uber, Lyft, or take and ambulance. Away to the hospital we went, after this man had spent literal months behaving as if I did not exist, suddenly when I was no longer isolated, I existed and he needed me.
Emotionally, 2021 for me is no better than 2020. My dreams remain unreached, and my follow through/perseverance is non existent. I wish this post was about great recovery, rising from the ashes, and how God miraculously healed us/me but I am still on a journey. My family does not work or heal together. I try very much to be the encouraging person in the lives’ of others life but my advice isn’t taken, I am overlooked and underappreciated. I see no positive changes or progress. I feel like giving up. I understand now why people decide to live without a home or any possessions. If you want to know more I can definitely post an article! I dream of a day where I am treated politely, do not have to serve everyone,(or if I do, there would be an equal exchange of power/encouragement/services) and exert my energy in stress and anxiety. My stomach literally hurts and brings pain to my body the same as emotional hell does.
Hiding, In Plain Sight,