The Most Unedited thing I've ever done.

I also wrote this a while back, and wasn't sure if I should post it.  I don't think many people will read it, so here it is for my own history, and to remember.....


There is one moment in my history with Josh, prior to us being married, that seems to epitomize our one constant marital struggle so often. It was the one moment I needed something I couldn't verbalize the most...remains to be so.

I had just come from a situation involving another person (details aren't necessary) that had left me feeling unlovable, probably worthless, incapable, overall a person to be avoided.  Josh and I had only sort of started a relationship. We both liked each other, but had not declared anything.

I went to his house, hoping to be rescued from the hurt and stupidity I was feeling; hoping my worthless feelings would be proven wrong and a sense of love and acceptance to take the place of the wretchedness in my heart.
I nervously knocked on the door (I'd hardly been to his house, and didn't know his family yet). He was sleeping, but was awakened for me.  He came to the door and probably stepped out to talk to me.  I stumbled over some kind of words indicating that he probably shouldn't date me, but then we hadn't really been officially dating, but that I was not good for him, and that maybe, I don't know...we shouldn't see each other.  I pushed him away, was the bottom line.
I did the very opposite of what I needed.
I succeeded.
Yet I knew somehow he was the only person who could make it better.

But in confusion and sadness, I left his house...unsure what I had said; he said very little.  I went to my car, as I remember I had parked it across the street.  I sat.  I waited.  I hoped with all my little girl dramatic heart that he would watch and see that I had not left and that whatever nonsense I had said meant I needed something and that he might be my proverbial knight and rescue me.

I sat.
Alone.
I knew I would be alone.
I drove away, likely crying.

It's funny how things don't change.  It's funny how I still sit alone in my car (the very same car is in the garage now...many more miles and tears are on it).  Sometimes the 'car' is the couch, sometimes in the bed right next to my knight.

Loneliness is more unbearable when you are not alone.
And drama only gets worse when you're old enough to know better, and still so vulnerable in your heart that you don't know how to stop it.

That confusion, still so real and unmistakable, will not let go of me.
It deals now in failures as a mother, as a wife, as a housekeeper, as a neighbor, as a good Samaritan, as a friend, a sister, an organizer, a doer, a self-motivator, a planner, a teacher....the list of failures could go on.

I am trapped in a need for rescue.
I have finally, just barely this year, concluded and completely realized I am the one and the only one, who can do the rescuing.  I am the one who must face myself and kill the beast that keeps me trapped in my tower...preventing the real princess Me to come out and take on the world the way I want.  Josh, though Knightly as any man may be, does not possess the power.

I need to be rescued from myself.
Strange.
I've spent my life waiting for someone to save me. But tis I who must do the saving.

I've done it before with pills.  I hate them.  But they help.
This, dear reader, is the unedited version of my life.
Sometimes I wonder what people think of me.  If I lead on that I have things together and my kids are so great because behind closed doors I am so amazing.  If their intelligence and goodness somehow tells people that I have done something amazing.  I sure have not.  Some days, many days, half probably, there is only negativity that comes from their mother.  They cringe in fear if I come near them.  They hold their ears before the beast unleashes.  They cry...because of me.  There is nothing amazing about that.
There. is. shame.

You don't feel amazing when your son is worried you will kill yourself, or he tells you he thinks you'll get a divorce.  You don't feel you've succeeded at all, in fact.  It's pure fuel to the failure-fire your mental state has created.

Nonetheless, there are occasional glimpses of success during a rare family home evening.  Glory be to Josh. Josh is diligent to do scriptures and prayers every night.
So perhaps he IS the knight I NEED...the one to pick up the pieces I let fall apart so often.  The one who tenderly tucks the boys in and hugs them...he rescues them from the beast that traps ME from doing it.  He feeds them, dresses them, loves them, plays with them, teaches them, comes to them when they need it.

Still, silly me is sitting in the car, hoping that he knew I was at his door step stumbling over words that meant, "help me...save me...rescue me...tell me these feelings, though so real, are not true...please.    please."
But he doesn't. He didn't.  He won't.

I have to do it.  I will.  But when you're trapped by your own beast, sometimes it's hardest to see the way to kill it.  And once you do, what excuse have you?  What will be the blame if I fail then?
I promise I don't procrastinate solutions on assumption that I am co-dependant with my beast.  Quite the contrary.
I long for those times of joy, sunshine, and LIFE!
I've had them.  I love them.  I am sinfully jealous of those I perceive to enjoy them daily.

Especially now.  At Christmas.  When all around are joyful and happy.  I have hid myself from life and joy this year, which is resulting in my own sadness and loneliness alone.  Christmas is happening quite despite me. Almost in spite of me.
Luckily so.
Those little boys nestled all snug in their beds are as thrilled and anticipatory as if they had a normal mother to excite them for it.

Next year.  Next year will be different and wonderful.  I'll do it.
Not because I have to.

I want to.