Judgment, Divorce, and Grief

Monday, January 9, 2012

The other day I wrote something that explains what I have been feeling about myself: “I love him. I'd like to have a better relationship, but I can't force him to heal and become whole. There are torn heartstrings--as from an LDS viewpoint there is an element of always "forgiving" and having enough "faith"--the cultural expectation that if you endure long enough, pray sincerely enough, try hard enough, & be righteous enough--that everything will be the way it ideally should be. That is a great weight on my shoulders; a heavy burden to bear--I feel that if I divorce him again, I am somehow failing miserably. I know logically I'm not responsible for healing him, yet I know I'm the only person who's been consistent with loving him in his entire life. I have a really hard time letting go of that.”

The 7 stages of grief are:

http://www.recover-from-grief.com/7-stages-of-grief.html

1. Shock & Denial
2. Pain & Guilt
3. Anger & Bargaining
4. “Depression,” Anger, & Loneliness
5. The Upward Turn
6. Reconstruction& Working Through
7. Acceptance & Hope

So today I was becoming really bothered that other people were perhaps judging me—they did not agree with my point of view or my choices. I was frustrated and felt betrayed. How could they not understand? It was so clear to me.

Then I realized that I was looking for outward approval and that I was putting my ego into it. I humbled myself and took a hard look at what I was really feeling and how I was the one judging others. I remembered an article in this month's Ensign, “Look Up, Not Sideways”. I remembered that I need to be seeking the Lord's approval on my decisions and not the world's, even if the world to me is my family, friends, and neighbors. http://lds.org/ensign/2012/01/look-up?lang=eng

It is amazing how quickly I received comfort and clarity when I sincerely poured my heart out to Him. I had a distinct thought. Emily, “You are grieving for your loss,” and that's okay. The thoughts went on from there. If my husband had passed away or died in an unexpected accident, I suppose I would receive so much more support and comfort from others. People wouldn't be judging me if I was grieving because my husband died. No one would imply or say to me, “Emily, if you were just righteous, faithful, and prayed enough, your husband wouldn't have had to die right now.” Who would be insensitive enough to say that?

Instead, I am getting divorced for the 2^nd time from the same husband. There is the cultural implication that somehow I have failed to do the above mentioned “faithful” spiel that goes with it. It's against the “rules” to not “endure” my marriage in its entirety. Part of me says, “Don't they know that I'm grieving because I'm losing my husband? It's not as if I'm choosing for him to leave me.” In some ways I think the grief from divorce is more difficult. It's a living rejection based death. Not only am I grieving the loss of a precious loved one, I'm getting tossed aside as well. There is hurt and heartache along with the huge loss.

I have need of repentance for comparing and judging my experience and decisions against that of other. Everyone's situation is unique, yet there are many similarities.

Other people who have loved ones in addiction and mental health stick with it. That's great! I would love to stick with it, if “it” wanted to stick with me. I realize that despite my willingness to endure, I cannot make my husband want to be married to me or to anyone else for that matter. I can't force him to live up to my personal beliefs or standards. I do not have the power or ability to restore him to wholeness. That is God's role, not mine.

In an Al-Anon book today's date says:

“How often I look outside myself for approval!...If I can learn to evaluate my own actions and behavior and to value my own judgment, then the approval of others will be enjoyable, but no longer essential to my serenity.”

“Just for today, I will appreciate myself. I will not look to others for approval; I will provide it for myself. I'll allow myself to recognize that I am doing the best I can. Today my best is good enough.”

“Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. (Carl Jung).”

How fitting was all of that for me today?! I know that in the end, I will be okay. That no matter what happens I have intrinsic value and worth. I simply can only do my best and God takes care of the rest. Here's to letting go & letting God!

Relfections & Integration

Sunday, April 22, 2012

in·te·grate (nt-grt)

[From Middle English, intact, from Latin integrtus, past participle of integrre, to make whole, from integer, complete; see tag- in Indo-European roots.]

1. To make into a whole by bringing all parts together; unify.

5. Psychology To bring about the integration of (personality traits).

Integration is my new best friend & Hope sits with me at my front door. This is the time of my life that I feel like I have come the closest in my relationship with God. I'd never want to go through it again or for anyone else to have to go through such anguish. I wouldn't give it up for anything. I have learned so much about my capacities and of God's great love for me. I am reconciled to God and am whole because of His Atonement.

I definitely struggle. Some days are harder than others. Some hurts are deeper this time around. Some things are way more confusing-- like my ex soon to be twice removed; I don't "get" him. He's been back & forth on being a church goer or an atheist about 3 times in the last year alone. He can be a nice guy & he's also a big jerk, especially to me (which you'll never hear me telling my kids. They'll figure that out for themselves on their own time frame. I refuse to have my kids hate something that's very much a part of them--their Father).

There are things that I am grateful for now. Like my beautiful children & how I've grown as a woman, wife & mother. I definitely like being able to hang out with good friends and not have to worry about the flack he'd give me for talking to them. I can buy clothes without wondering whether or not he'd like them (though I'm still self-conscious about it because of my personal issues prior to the marriage & then his contribution upon that). I get to discipline my kids differently. I can buy groceries without him looking over my shoulder to give his approval. Heck, I can go to counseling and not have to worry about my changes & the bigger gap that came to be from our differing choices.

I play, laugh, smile & cry more. I feel. I'm happier than I have been in a really long time. I have gotten to know so many more people being separated & divorced. I went back to school & found another career that I'm passionate about. My work is my refuge from the storm. I have more friends now & I love it. I'm happy & I have no one here to try to make me feel bad or guilty for being so.

I married quite young & we both came from "rough" backgrounds. Not the best possibilities to begin with. Neither of us had a sense of who we were yet. Neither of us had a fully developed prefrontal cortex (decision making center). I had the faith & grew greatly in the 10 years I've known him. At times I regret marrying him both times; but when it comes down to it, I wouldn't be who I am today without having him as experience. It's been a stepping stone to many other things that lie ahead & I will someday have a greater understanding of why things had to be this way, yet again. He has his agency & I have mine.

Sometimes it's not a matter of willingness, but of tools, knowledge & skills. I lacked significantly in these areas. *Yes. I am glad that this is past tense.*

I am a firm believer that two people who are both willing to be humble, repent (change for the better--Greek root of the word), appreciate & respect each other, and are willing to grow together could have a great marriage. It takes work. Hard & great work. A work worth our every best and feeble efforts.

I am confident that my next relationship will be much healthier because I am healthier emotionally. I've worked tirelessly on myself & my "baggage" for the last 2 years solid. I am the kind of person who strives not for perfection, but consistent growth & renewal.

I however do know that if I were to get in a relationship right now, or shortly after our divorce was finalized, that I would run into some significant problems. I would end up repeating the same story with different scenery & characters. I don't know anything different yet. While I am on the road to recovery & healing through the Atonement, my wounds are fresh & deep. I need time to walk across the bridge to a feeling & recognition of wholeness.

It scares me to think of being "out there" again. A lot. I think the 1st step, beyond championing my self-relationship & becoming an awesome mom, is to just be okay with being still. Also scary--to a point. I don't like the super quiet moment at the end of the day when I'm physically all alone. It kind of sucks. At the same time, I am free to cry as much as I want or need & how I want to. It's a nice peace of mind.

Rarely has life gone the way I planned. Somehow, it always ends up better than I ever imagined. Of course, that's after the grueling & beautiful journey that preceded it. I'm worth it. We all are. Truly as heartbreaking as this has been, it's been BEAUTIFUL!

A Train of Thought on the Power of Thought & Word

Thoughts, words, and actions all emit vibrations of energy within us and the entire universe. There is a great difference in the power of saying "I feel" versus "I am". In the positive and negative "I am" is commanding (aka. _belief_ = me). When speaking of feelings we are acknowledging what we feel in our heart parts and allowing our intrinsic nature to stand in its power.

Example: “I am suicidal” vs. “I have suicidal thoughts and feelings that are really a reflection of not wanting to face difficult circumstances”. When phrased like the latter way the power & self-label of not being enough is diminished & I can embrace myself while holding on to the value of my experience.

My word and The Word are powerful. I had no idea that I had more control over my life than I previously thought. I may not be able to directly influence every situation to be in my favor, yet I can learn to perceive them differently & see them for what they truly are—experiences and potential lessons.

My thoughts, alongside my ego, had to be correct. What else would make sense to a little girl at 6 years old that was being sexually abused for years? She thought it was because she was unlovable, bad, unworthy, not good enough, dirty, and undeserving of kindness. She thought that those bad things were her fault & that God had allowed it to happen. She thought that life had to be hard & that there wasn’t any real happiness to be had. She did the best she could with what she knew and she survived many such encounters.

Her mindset, which was and is mine, could only allow for so much good. Every event perceived revolved around those belief systems. How exhausting? How depressing? How resigning? I have suffered with a great deal of mountains to climb. I have overcome the harrowing effects of sexual abuse, addictions, suicidal tendencies and codependency. I have starred down the very face of adversity and “beat the odds”.

I had a choice to make about myself and my perspective of life and have had many turning points. I could choose to remain in my darkness & despair, or I could take the faith and believe that mountains could be moved or removed. Each day I face that same choice: life and creation, or death and destruction?

“Men and women who turn their lives over to God will discover that He can make a lot more out of their lives than they can. He will deepen their joys, expand their vision, quicken their minds, strengthen their muscles, lift their spirits, multiply their blessings, increase their opportunities, comfort their souls, raise up friends, and pour out peace. Whoever will lose his life in the service of God will find eternal life” (“Jesus Christ—Gifts and Expectations,” President Ezra Taft Benson, Ensign, Dec. 1988, 4)

Daily I choose to be co-creators with my higher powers. Creation happens—one thought, one word, one line, one page at a time. Repetition of the overall positive is essential. We write a new page together every day. We also edit the previous chapters and remove the biased “corrections” of pride based writing from previous generations. Every day is filled with discoveries, rediscoveries, and recoveries. Every day is a beautiful gift from above and by the power of my word, “I love living!”

“In a real though figurative sense, the book of life is the record of the acts of men, as such record is written [in my own body]. It is the record engraven on the very bones, sinews, and flesh of [my] mortal body . . . . Every thought, word and deed has an effect on the human body; all these leave their marks, marks which can be read by Him who is Eternal, as easily as the words in a book can be read…. . . When the book of life is opened on the Day of Judgment, [my body] will show what law [I] have lived.” (Elder Bruce R. McConkie, Mormon Doctrine, Bookcraft, 1966, 97.)

My body, mind and spirit are the Book of my Life. And in it I find light and truth. There is power in my word and in my being. I am in Godliness and them in me. There is Hope and I am living proof of the power of it to transform life from war to peace.

The Mountain of Me

I was standing in the shadows of the majestic mountain & my job was to climb to the top. With my limited experience, I decided that I was to make the treacherous journey alone, I had to do it all on my own with no help, and that I was going to be an expert on the steepest and most dangerous side of the rugged highland. Somehow, I thought that if the climb wasn’t difficult it meant that I didn’t belong on the mountain. I believed that I needed to suffer through the experience to prove how great I was and what I had overcome by the time the end came. I was going to be glorified for my climb.

Along the way I put extra rocks into my pack to build strength and look more accomplished. I suffered greatly to seem more humble. I neglected proper rest and nutrition to prove that I could survive anything. I would have my scars and “war” wounds for sport and stories. I was driven to prove my worth to the rest of the world in the greatest test of my life. And off I went.

I had blisters on my hands and feet as I climbed as well as any novice could. I was eager and excited to win the race and was in the zone. I heard a voice say, “You skipped a step!” Puzzled, I looked back and realized that I had indeed been in a hurry and took a larger lunge than necessary.  I continued on my climb and ignored the pain of a pulled muscle and my bleeding leg. “A little pain won’t hurt,” I thought, “It’s good for me. It develops ‘character’ and it will make my story more convincing.”

I couldn’t shake the thought that I had missed something. I was doing the best I could. And I pressed forward. I found myself in an awkward holding position. I was shaking to hold firm.

A voice again said, “It doesn’t have to be that hard.” That thought took me by surprise. I was caught off guard and lost my footing. “What do you mean it doesn’t have to be this hard?” I yelled, “That was the plan!” And gathered my composure and continued onward with hastened pace and new adventures.

But how long would I have to keep up this pace? I just wanted to be done climbing. I was tired, exhausted, alone, and afraid. Why couldn’t I be at the peak already? I knew that’s where I belonged, so why did He make it so hard? I finally looked beyond my perspective of how far away I was from my end goal. I was defeated. I was never going to be enough.

Then there was a subtle thought, a new idea. I turned around and saw something that I hadn't noticed before. There was an easier, well-marked trail off to my left. And there were people actually walking on it, and they looked happy?! “That’s absurd!” I thought, “You mean this whole time that direction was right next to me?”

Fed up and frustrated, I made my way to the ledge nearest my new discovery. I decided to cut the ropes that burned, choked, and bound me to the monstrous mountain and let myself fall slowly down onto the trail. I fell to the dust and wept for my loss.

In all my getting, I got further away from everything and everyone I ever wanted. I wanted to be right, and I was, or so I thought. The sobering truth of trust, of putting one foot in front of the other, and of holding on to the railing was my new course and I would follow it one day at a time. For truly God had my back and would catch me when I had fallen. The truth be known, I was never alone.