You all know that something big has been going on in my life the past couple of months. If you know me at all in real life, then you already probably know what it is. But for the rest of you, I think I am finally in a place where I can talk about it. It’s not that I have everything sorted in my mind and heart, because I certainly don’t. But I do think that I am finally past the shock and disbelief that this is my life, and I’m not going to magically wake up to things as they were before. And part of the healing is putting it all out there so I can tell my story honestly – and hopefully help someone else in the process.
Almost two months ago, my husband and I bought our dream house. We signed on the dotted line on a Monday, and were ecstatic to be homeowners. Between that and trying to get pregnant, it looked like all of my dreams were just within reach.
Two days later, I got a call on the phone that he had been arrested. Allegedly, he was caught in a co-worker’s home trying to steal her underwear while she was not at home. She was young, pretty, and thin (necessary details, thank you very much, detectives). Apparently, they searched the car and found a duffel bag containing other items belonging to various women in baggies that were labelled with their names. I have no idea who these women are, but I fear they may have been some of our friends. And so, my husband is in jail.
Obviously, I was completely blindsided. I never had any reason to suspect anything like this. For days, I was unable to think, eat, or breathe without difficulty. I walked around in a haze, unable to even respond to questions. My whole life shattered around and inside me, leaving a shell to survive my life.
And just when I started to get myself together, to think that maybe a day would come when I would be able to breathe, the media ran story after story after story about the situation. I watched my husband’s face pop up on my computer screen, my tv…. and I saw the eyes of a stranger. A local news station posted the article to their Facebook page with a tasteless joke as a headline. Our local newspaper and a local website went so far as to list an approximation of our new address – leading to a neighbor confronting my step-dad and demanding answers on behalf of “all the neighbors.”
Meanwhile, shell-shocked, I attempted to sort through my feelings. Even now, when people ask how I feel about him, I tell them: I feel everything. I love him. I hate him. I want to save him. I want to ruin him. I miss him. I hate myself for missing him. The truth is that there is not a single emotion I have not felt in the past two months.
He is not a violent person, and I absolutely believe that this stemmed from untreated and well-hidden mental health issues. It kills me to see him suffering in jail, to know that if he goes to prison… he will never be the same. And even all these weeks later, my brain can’t even fathom that he is one person. It’s like I have two husbands – the one who rubbed my back and brushed my hair in the evenings while we watched Doctor Who, and the one who stole my love and trust away and shattered my dreams. And yet, I know that they are both the same person… that it is impossible for me to have a life with one without choosing a life with the other. And I just don’t know what to do.
There’s a beautiful song from Alison Krauss (you know she sings my soul’s songs) that is one of my anthems at the moment.
“I’m sorry if I’m keeping you apart from other conversations. I’m hung up on all my doubt, trying to sort the whole thing out. You tell me that I’m smart enough to deal with all the information spinning inside my head – every word he ever said. Maybe I can stand alone. Maybe I’m strong as stone.”
I know, everyone wants to know what I’m going to do. Even the people who are nice enough not to tell me their opinion have one. Some people assume I will stay with him because they know I am merciful, love him, and also that I believe strongly that marriage is forever. Others can’t imagine how I would even consider staying with him after what he has put me through. And honestly… they are all right. As I stated before, my mind and my heart are literally divided. I have no answers.
The truth is that I am terrified of being alone. I can’t even imagine starting over – of being so close to realizing all of my biggest dreams and then landing right back at the beginning. I can’t imagine giving up the dreams that I have spent 4 years dreaming up with my husband.
And yet, I know that regardless of what I choose, those dreams are dead. I don’t know if I can ever trust him again. I don’t know if I can have children with him. I don’t know if I can ever respect him or admire him the way a woman should respect and admire her husband. I want to be a wife, not a probation officer, mother, and guardian angel.
I have been doing absolutely everything I can not to let this experience harden me. It would be easier to numb my heart, but I know that the pain is a necessary part of healing… and if I don’t allow myself to feel it, I will never be happy again.
And obviously, it’s far more complicated than just our relationship. The responsibilities that were once shared between us all rest firmly on my shoulders along with the added responsibilities of homeownership. While a couple months ago, I was free to pursue my dreams of freelancing and building a web-based empire (slowly but steadily), I now have to start subbing in order to have a steady and reliable income stream.
So, my life has changed… and my dreams must change with it. My husband is in jail. I am alone. I do not know when I will be able to start living again – rather than simply surviving. But I do know that happiness is a choice… and it is one I will make every day until the smiles and laughs are no longer covering tears.
To everyone who has supported me in this journey, I thank you. I could not get through this without your love.
Your story is so similar to what my life is at this moment. I would like to know how you got through this
Katrina,
I rarely check comments so I apologize for the delay! The truth is that I’m STILL getting through it. The trauma will always be part of me, and its residual effects are documented (and will continue to be) on this blog. As for how I got through the initial shock and inability for my brain to reconcile who he was… it took more time than I’d like to admit. Ultimately, I knew I couldn’t be happy with someone I couldn’t trust and who would never be my partner in the marriage. I knew that I’d be sacrificing my very happiness to stay with him – and for what? Obligation and fearing what he’d become without me. Not worth the entirety of my happiness and the love I longed for – which now I have found.
I want to reiterate that. Which now I have found. If you choose to leave him, happiness is still available to you. Leaving is hard. Leaving is scary. Fear can hold you back from that choice if you let it. Don’t if that’s what you need to be happy.
It’s been a very long journey, one fraught with heartache and wounds that just don’t seem to heal – but I can tell you that I am finally at a place where this story truly is my past. It’s just a chapter of the novel, and it doesn’t dictate my life or who I am anymore. I am incredibly happy and feel that I’ve risen victorious at the end. There are still jagged edges that reappear, but they remind me of what I’ve come through and the strength it’s taken to get where I am – and necessarily, the strength I have to overcome other things.
I am very sorry for whatever YOU are going through. Trust your own instincts and your own gut. Let your heart and mind guide you the way you know they can. Just listen to yourself; you already know what to do. If you don’t, you will. One step at a time even when it’s painful, and eventually you will find yourself on the other side where happiness and wholeness dwell. Your decisions are yours alone. Your life is yours alone. Make it what YOU want. Be what YOU want to be. Everything else will fall into place. <3
Please tell me how youre doing now!
Bobbi,
On a smaller scale, and in a smaller way, I have been there. I was married when I was 20 in the Dallas, Texas temple to a man I was deeply in love with, but who I knew so shockingly little about. After only 9 months of marriage he came home drunk. Black out drunk. I was so naive I thought he was sick and called an ambulance, answering resolutely time and time again that “No! He had NOT been drinking!” When I found out the truth it was the first time I wondered who this man I was married to really was.
Then came the other things…the half-deleted text conversations from other women wanting to meet him online at night, the red eyes that came with the hard drugs he was on, the confusing and persistent anger over my smallest mistakes. A month or two would go by since I’d smelled alcohol on his breath or seen a questionable email and I’d think that maybe we’d be okay. Because when things were good they were so good. They were nights eating spaghetti on the carpet while watching Prison Break and spur-of-the-moment vacations to the Oregon Coast. …But then there were the times I was sure (I still am) that he put drugs in my food, and always, always the irrational anger. I was so miserable with the way I was treated when he was in one of his raging moods, that I almost hoped that I’d find out he’d been cheating on me as well. Because for some reason I had decided that I needed a good excuse to leave. But the thought of starting over killed me. I was so concerned with the time invested in that marriage that the thought of calling it quits just made me feel like a big fat failure. I was so busy trying to hold our marriage together, trying to help him, trying to pull myself together, trying to act like everything was just peachy…that I was forgetting what was best for me, and my life.
Finally, I did find out my husband cheated on me—with my own sister. Just inhaling and exhaling became a struggle. For me, personally, leaving was the right option. When I finally said it out loud, I felt nothing but peace. I’m not saying it was an easy road, but it was the right road for me. Now I’m happily married to a man that treats me the way I always imagined I would be. Things worked out for me, and I know they will work out for you, too! I wish you the best of luck. I am truly sorry you are going through such a painful experience, I would never wish it on my worst enemy! Lean on that testimony, it is really what got me through and helped me to come out on the other side. God Bless! (Here’s a link of my blogpost talking about my divorce, though it’s vague: https://kelseyleigh13.wordpress.com/2014/02/28/were-all-a-little-broken/
I’m so sorry Bobbi..I will keep you and Annan in my prayers.
My heart goes out to you. I pray that God will fill you abundantly with His grace and peace . Peace to make the right decision for you and your husband. Seek counsel from your pastor and pray for wisdom.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is wait to make a decision. You have expressed so well the complexities of your situation and it seems truly one that you would need to wait and sort through everything, both facts and feelings. My heart goes out to you. If you stay with your husband and he truly has a mental illness you have a difficult road ahead, though not one without rewards. May God be with you and give you strength, courage and comfort.
Oh Bobbi. How devastating! I am so sorry that this happened. I don’t really know what to say except that I will be praying for you and this whole messed up situation. Hugs. Thank you for sharing your heart and the update on your life.