365 Days of Divorce

 I wasn't quite sure what I expected to feel this week because the feelings I had these exact moments a year ago were quite confusing.
When the papers arrived in the mail with the date stamped February 18th, 2014, I knew what they held. In that large manila envelope was a series of paperwork, all signed and dated by a Maricopa County judge.

It was over.

Seven years of the life we had built were over.

Goodbye, commitment.

It all seemed so broken.

But I had been waiting for those papers because I wanted things to move on. I think I figured if those papers came, I could feel a sense of closure and healing.
That didn't happen. 
Instead I panicked. I turned to the comfort of my eating disorder. I started failing classes. I was full of anxiety most days. I cut off my friends and family slowly.
I didn't realize just how badly I was hurting. I didn't realize how much fear was the deciding factor in my daily choices.

This morning, I was on the computer and thinking about a year ago and the 6 months before that where the separation and lawyer meetings and fights and anger and figuring out custody were pretty much running my life. I looked up pictures from that time---I found the pictures I had uploaded 2 days before he left me. None of them had been edited or saved correctly on the computer. I don't think I had looked at them at all since sliding that memory card into the computer that day because two days later, my life was so drastically changed.

My kids seemed so little back then. I wish I could've bottled them up like this and protected them in so many ways. And then I think about it and I'm glad they've gone through it with me because my kids are some of the bravest I know. They have had to learn a lot about themselves throughout the past year and a half.

 The thing about divorce is that you and your ex-spouse are in charge of how things go.
In the beginning, these questions are started with: Who is filing the paperwork? Will you get lawyers? Who stays in the house? How often do the kids go from one house to the other? Who pays the other or is it evenly split? 
Those questions seem kind of obvious with divorce. Everyone has to figure them out.

But then there are the questions such as: What goals do we have after our divorce? Are we working together to keep our kids healthy and loved? Are we fighting in front of them? Are we going to swallow our pride and treat each other with respect? Are we going to allow the kids to be with the both of us in the same room?

 It's confusing sometimes. 
None of those questions were answered in a day. I've thought about all of them multiple times throughout this past year. I've figured out my personal boundaries and then changed them a few times to make sure I feel safe. I've prayed about my childrens' needs and tried my best to make sure they are ok. In fact, that alone has been the cause of a lot of my anxiety.

I want my children to come out of this as emotionally healthy as possible.

 And I believe they will.

Not only because of what I do for them but because of what their dad does for them. I don't need a marriage contract to know that he is a good dad. He has learned to be there for them too.

My anger toward my ex-husband has eased an incredible amount in the past year. I am working on forgiving him and I believe with the help of my Savior and His atonement, I will be able to completely heal and find my heart at peace.

 I really CAN believe it has been this long. In fact, it feels like it's been even longer. I feel like I've been single for years and I'm kind of, sort of, REALLY ready to change that.
But...God's timing is not my timing...and for today, I'm ok with that. Actually, my heart and my brain don't quite agree on what "my timing" should be anyway so I think it's best to just trust that God knows.

In the meantime, we are a year stronger and wiser. I really would never trade these past few years for anything. I know not everyone would say that and it may seem odd. It's not that I WANTED to be divorced---I didn't. But this past year has taught me just how capable I am of being on my own. I have grown up a lot and have become a much better person. I find myself looking at the entire world differently---more lovingly than I did before. I find myself realizing that sometimes the people we think are the meanest and rudest are the people who need us the most. Often times, the people not smiling are hurting inside and are longing for human connection.

Living with empathy is a much better way to live life. I wouldn't change the infertility or the divorce or the many 'disorders' I have on my medical records. Each and every time I am given something, I learn a whole slew of new things and I become a better person than I was before.

It's weird to think that I've only known about The Togetherness Project for a year because those people that I've met have been life-changing for me. It's weird to think that a year ago, I still didn't know why my marriage had ended. That came later. And although I have many days where the effects of my failed marriage haunt me, I know that I am strong enough to live with the memories and even smile when remembering some of them.

It wasn't all bad. In fact, a lot of it was good. 

Most importantly, I am grateful that it all happened. I am grateful for seven years of a marriage. I find myself learning from those experiences every day. I wouldn't change it. That took a while for me to be able to say. For a while, I blamed myself for getting married in the first place. Who does that at 19?!! (just kidding, to all of my teenage married friends) I didn't know if I could forgive myself for making what I had decided was a stupid decision.

But without my marriage, I wouldn't have my children. Without my marriage, I wouldn't have Togetherness or my ward family or the extended in-law family I was able to fall in love with for seven years. And without my divorce, I wouldn't be the person that I currently am. I probably wouldn't be pursuing a bachelors degree in Human Development and a masters degree in Counseling.

It isn't that staying married would've been horrible. It could've been amazing. We had the choice to make it amazing---and we did not both choose for that to happen.

Three hundred and sixty five days of this life---and I have faith that we will all be ok. 

Loss of Trust vs. Betrayal

Loss of Trust vs. Betrayal

This has been a hot topic on my mind for---oh---the past 7 years of my life. It started out as something I didn't understand and wanted to learn about. But somewhere down the road, I started to figure out how these particular labels are applied to my own life. How does loss of trust affect me versus being betrayed by someone?

When someone is dishonest, our first reaction is to lose trust in them. This seems like the obvious reaction, no matter how long it may last. I think of this as a chain breaking. One of the links snaps and the chain separates.
Although it takes some work, a broken link of a chain is fixable. Depending on how many links have broken, it may take a while but it isn't hopeless.
You can reattach links and even work hard to make them stronger than the last time.

But betrayal is different. Betrayal is taking that same chain and placing it on top of a bomb. When the bomb goes off, the chain is broken into a thousand tiny pieces and some of them hit you. How do you put that chain back together? How do you fix the wounds you now have?

Betrayal throws reason out the window.

Betrayal always involves a loss of trust. But a loss of trust does not always involve betrayal. 
Betrayal is an action, a verb. The dictionary defines it as "to disappoint the hopes or expectations of; be disloyal to". According to the dictionary, betrayal goes far and wide beyond lying. It is deceit. It is telling someone you're going to be loyal and directly contradicting your words by your actions.

A few months ago, a friend was asking me a series of hard questions, most of which I refused to fully answer. Questions like, "Should I stay? Should I go? Do you think there's a betrayal 'point of no return'?" Each of these questions has individual answers---not individual to the question but individual to the person asking.

Should you leave him?
I don't know. 
That all depends on how much you can handle. If you've lost yourself and are miserable, maybe you should. But maybe you have hope that you can trust him again if he is willing to make changes.

Betrayal seems like the definition of GREY. It isn't black and white ever. Ever ever.

Everyone who has felt a form of betrayal has their own unique experience.

For me, betrayal caused anxiety. I had never dealt with anxiety of this magnitude ever before in my life. Betrayal caused me to need medication to function for a while---which I am completely ok with. In fact, I'm grateful for it.

I can remember a time at the beginning of this past school year when I was waiting in the pick-up line for my daughter. It was the first time of the day where I had a quiet 20 minutes to myself and each day, as I would dwell on things I needed to get done and people I needed to see and places I needed to go, a surge of anxiety would take over my chest and I would have to close my eyes and take deep breaths.
Most of the time, I would tell myself, "Suzanne, calm down. You know nothing is wrong right now. Nothing bad is happening. You shouldn't be getting anxious." but every once in a while, I'd get impatient and angry with myself.

As I was telling my counselor this last week, kind of proud of myself for usually being patient but also recognizing that I wasn't always dealing with it very well, she asked me if my words were self-honoring to my anxiety.

Self-honoring.

She said those words and for a while, I wasn't focused on anything else she said (Sorry, therapist...) because those words were the perfect label for what I was trying to make sense of in my head.

I wasn't honoring the fact that I am dealing with a lot of betrayal trauma. I wasn't allowing myself to feel anxious without trying to shut the feelings down as quickly as I could.

I have a strong belief that betrayal trauma is real. I am trying to be more accepting of the thoughts in my head and the feelings in my heart---the good and the bad---because each thing I think and feel has a purpose. Each reaction I have, even if it doesn't make sense to anyone else in the world, is a part of my reality.

And it's ok.

It's ok to work through trauma and act super crazy sometimes. It's ok to have fears and anxiety. Because I have been betrayed and I understand why those feelings come and go. I understand why I get anxiety. If I looked at my story as someone else's, I'd tell that girl, "Give yourself a break. Don't get upset when you get anxious. You have been through a lot. It is scary. And you're doing the best you can right now."

Because I am doing the best I can. I am hanging on by a thread sometimes and thriving other times. I stay up until 2am and I go to bed at 8pm sometimes. I cook my kids a healthy dinner sometimes and other times, I hand them a piece of bologna and a banana and call it a night.

Each and every day, all we can do is try to do the best we can---not the best our sister or neighbor or best friend can---just the best we can be.

Anchor to the Good

 Sky high and fearless---that is a real picture of me when I was a little girl. I used to climb to the top of our incredibly tall swing set and feel the wind on my face and just breathe. I'd sit on the top metal bar and watch the cars go down the streets and the people walking on the sidewalks.

That was my place.

Very few times did the fear of falling come to my mind but it never stopped me from climbing up to the top and feeling like I was on top of the world.

As a young girl, it was a fun place to climb. As a teenager, it was a place I would go to escape my pain.

My kids play on that swing set now. I watch them from my parents' kitchen window and imagine I am the young version of myself again, the little girl who needed someone to understand her a little bit better.
Sometimes I mourn the parts of my childhood that were sad. Other times, I smile because I love that little girl so much. I love 'young me'. Maybe that seems weird but whenever I see things in my children that remind me of myself as a child, it makes me happy.

Because I am her and I know what she needs. I know how she felt. I know all of the genuinely compassionate things she felt as a little girl. She is incredible to me.



Last week, I had a super rough night---or couple of nights. I wish the hard nights would stop but I guess that's never going to happen. But as I laid in my bed and wrote in my journal, I was thinking about everything that has happened and I was starting to blame myself all over again.

This is what anxiety does to me. 

I was worried that my divorce was too fast and that I had jumped into this new life without waiting for a fourth or fifth answered prayer that this was right---as if the first three answers were no longer valid. 

I started to second guess my friendships to some of the most amazing people I have ever met. I couldn't believe that they really love me. I started to think that I was probably just a girl with a sad story who everyone feels sorry for so they invite her to hang out.

I was crying while messaging a friend about my pity party and she stopped me right in my tracks and said, "Ok, I'm stepping in now! No No NO! Now you're making that up in YOUR head because you anchor to all of the self critic talk, instead of anchoring to what you know is true. You're amazing. You have awesome friends who are trying to protect you. You have been through hell and back and you don't give yourself enough credit for the amazing amount of crap you've been through and have to deal with. Let yourself feel those feelings of hurt but don't anchor to them. Anchor to the good."

Anchor to the good.

That phrase really spoke to me. Anchor to the good. I like simple messages that carry deep meanings. They are easier for me to remember and apply.

The next day, I went straight to my white board and wrote that beautiful message on it.

I pass by it multiple times a day.

When my friend first said those words to me, I thought they would be easy. I am a generally optimistic person and I've always felt like I can pick the good out of the situation and focus on it most of the time.

But it has been harder than I thought! Because I've been dealing with so much anxiety and shame that finding the good isn't always easy.

Often times it bothers me that I haven't yet figured out who I am now. I am a different person than I used to be and sometimes it's hard for me to understand myself. It's hard to understand the anxiety or the anger or the shame because even though I have felt all of those things in my life, I didn't recognize them as much as I do now. They weren't as debilitating as they are now.

And a huge part of me resents that. A huge part of me gets angry with this new person because I just want her to calm down and stop being so scared of life.

I want her to trust. 

But if I take a step back and look at her as if she isn't me, I can see why she is scared and why she doesn't like to trust. I can see why daily activities can give her anxiety. Because the day she was hurt the most was just a normal day with normal activities and it changed her life forever.


I hope that someday I will be able to overcome my fears. I hope that I will be able to live more freely and trust and love and commit.

But today all I feel like doing is climbing back into bed and never coming out of my room.
Because at least my bed is safe.