Resurrection Day

Really wishing I wouldn't have thought about how strong I thought I was with my mom. Ever since I've been having memories of me standing there with resolve, not even flinching as the punches, slaps and whatever she had in her hand came flying at me. What a sick thing to think about. Those are feelings I used to feel pride about. Now I'm angry and sad. But I still can't cry. I leak. But I don't cry.

 

I specify a difference because my eyes well up and a tear or two might fall but I don't willingly let anything out. There has never been an exception. I've never felt safe enough, even alone to just release it. I need to though. As the memories float to the surface I find myself feeling overwhelmed and anxious. But I still refuse to go there. I just can't. My heart is not safe around my husband. That's not his fault either. He really wants to be there for me, he just can't help himself. He feels like it's helpful to tell me how I should handle myself. I have repeatedly asked him just to listen, to hold me, to just be there and he cannot be. Again, not his fault. He only knows how to correct in an attempt to help. But with stuff like this, there isn't a right or wrong, it just is or isnt. And with him around it isn't.

 

My girlfriend K could possibly be a safe person if we could actually have time without interruption. My therapist would be but he can't touch me. My guyfriend L definitely is and has come close to breaking me a couple times without even trying but we aren't allowed to be alone so it doesn't matter. So I keep stuffing and little bits dribble out despite my unwillingness to let it go. I'm literally going to explode one of these days. I just hope the situation in which that happens is appropriate.

 

My username is Mia Phoenix. Although Mia is not Mia it's M.I.A. or missing in action. I used to relate to the Phoenix; rising from the ashes into an amazing creature of fire and healing. Now I see that I may have risen from the ashes of my childhood but I'm not flying yet and I am not healed. I'm trying and fighting my way through this in hopes of living a life worthy of the title of a Phoenix but for now, the Phoenix in me is M.I.A. Thus Mia Phoenix.

 

Ironic really because today is Easter. A day of resurrection. Perhaps one of these Easters I will just be a Phoenix instead of Mia Phoenix. Until then, I'll keep fighting through the memories, keep numbing myself to just cope with living with H and place my hope in God for a life I desperately want before I have no life left in me to live. But maybe that's the point. Maybe I have to die before I can be reborn. Maybe I have to embrace the pain, the tears, the years and accept the unacceptable before I can fly. Even if it's not Easter, that will be my resurrection day.

Unusual weekend

This has been an unusual weekend. He's been fairly independent so I was able to spend a lovely afternoon with my daughter and bake and cook and stuff for Easter. Although I am a bit annoyed because I couldn't find the hand mixer and wasn't able to make some of the things I wanted. They would have tasted fine but not presented the way I want so I nixed the idea completely. That's something I have to be aware of about myself. I can get caught up in black and white and forget there can be middle ground.

 

For the most part I've given up my perfectionism. But not when it comes to cooking and driving. Lol, weird things to hold on to but what I've done anyway. I used to need everything just so but as I got older and realized I couldn't maintain such insanity, I learned to accept my short comings and live my strengths instead of focusing on what I do wrong all the time. That's my upbringing.

 

Even though my dad and I are working on a relationship now, we didn't have much of one when I was growing up. Although it wasn't horrible it wasn't good either. I was pretty much his confidant and only friend which my therapist has labeled as emotional incest. Yucky words but appropriate nonetheless. I'm trying to shift our relationship away from me being his therapist and us being friends. I don't know how successful I am but last week was good. Time will tell and I'll process that as I need to. Right now that's not the focus.

 

But his emotional absence and my Moms constant criticism really made me a perfectionist. And yet I'm sympathetic enough because of it that I cannot do that to anyone else. Nor do I want to. It's a horrible way to live especially when you realize you will never be good enough for the people who are suppose to love you unconditionally, support you, encourage, lift up and nurture you. Although my adult brain understands that it wasn't necessarily because I didn't measure up, they didn't know how to be any different. Yet still feeling those feelings as a child even now, I cannot understand how I was such a bad person.

 

That's probably a big piece of why my marriage is not going to last. I cannot and will never be who he wants me to be. He saw someone pliable that he thought he could control and manipulate and he fell in love. But that's not what he got. Especially now that the one person in this world that could intimidate me is dead.

 

Intimidate. Interesting choice of words. But true. She intimidated me. I suppose it's the several broken jaws, ribs, black eyes, bruises and such. I might just be the dumbest smart person. I should have been afraid but for whatever reason I stopped being afraid. I remember the exact moment too. I was sent to my room and waiting there for her to come in and give me my punishment and I realized that the worse she was going to do was hurt me physically. I was 10. So she beats me up. Whatever. From that point on she intimidated me but I was no longer afraid.

 

Another side effect of my awareness and self empowerment was that I was done allowing her to bully my brothers, sister and dad. As the oldest of the family I was assuming responsibility to "pop the zit" when I could feel her raging. I got in her face, would purposely do things I knew she disliked so she would come after me. I knew I could take it and I didn't want them to have to. What a crazy choice for a 10 year old to have to make, or to even try to make. But I did and from that point on it is my instinctual reaction when someone around me is mad and it's directed at me.

 

Thankfully I've learned I don't have to repel every conflict nor do I need to be the savior or rescuer but it's hard for me to bite my tongue and say "yes dear" when really I want to pop that zit instead of letting it fester. Worst case scenario he hits me again. Whatever, I can take it. Although he has huge hands and is quite strong, it hurts a lot more than when my mom would. But I still refuse to shed a tear and if it gets to that point, I will still keep it secret. Because that's what I'm suppose to do. Why am I suppose to?

 

Because despite it all, I still don't want to hurt anyone. It would be a lot harder for me to live with myself knowing I sabotaged someone, whether on purpose or not, when I could have just kept my mouth shut and let it pass. I wonder why that is. Probably something to ask my therapist next week. I could figure it out on my own but I prefer to not analyze myself. I am much more trusting of other peoples opinions.

 

Well I won't get to take a bath and write tomorrow so see ya Monday. Happy Easter!

His words, my words

So I've been thinking about how I might be what he says so I've decided to take this post to write what he says is wrong with me and what I do wrong. Maybe he's right and I have some things to work on. To be honest with myself I have to use the words he has used. Otherwise I'd try to sugar coat it and be more kind. Not the point. The point is to look at how harsh he feels and honestly look at whether or not it's justified.

 

What's wrong with me:

I'm too friendly
I'm a tight wad
I like the color yellow
I wear sparkly house shoes
I wear my yellow, daisy hat in public
I have f me curls
I trust easily
I love too much
I want to help too often
I spend too much time with kids
I'm too patient with kids
I don't punish kids enough
I'm the dumbest smart person he has ever known
I don't listen to the radio enough
I'm not neat enough
I don't keep the house clean enough
I don't do laundry often enough
I don't change the sheets and towels often enough
I don't support him
I don't obey him enough
I don't treat him like the head of our household
I like to laugh too much
I'm clumsy
I'm quirky
I drink too much
I smoke
I don't show enough emotion
I'm a distraction
I'm reckless
I'm adventurous
I'm unreasonable
I'm stubborn
I'm independent
I'm particular
I'm too organized
I'm not spontaneous enough
I am outdoors too much
I don't bake cookies often enough

 

Since I'm doing this I can also add my own short comings:

I'm fat
I'm out of shape
I'm lazy
I'm too hopeful
I'm a peace keeper
I'm a care taker
I'm a perfectionist
I have panic attacks
I'm not serious enough
I hide behind humor
I'm sarcastic
I lie to save peoples feelings from being hurt
I protect
I let fear control me
I walk the fence and if I fall off into the other side I just get back on the fence again
I believe in God's love working through humans
I believe people should be cherished
I am not afraid of being hurt emotionally
I am grieving

 

I am sure if I left this list open I could keep adding. But for now I'm going to stop and process these things, pray about them and possibly talk to friends about it because I don't want to put all the blame on him. I have my issues too. I am not without fault. Of course right now I have a lot of Easter baking to do and dinner to start so I'd better focus on that or it won't be right and I'll mess that up too.

I like mornings

Mornings are nice. Not the ones where you set an alarm and have to jump out of bed to start your day but the ones where you linger. Take your time and just let the wave of the day sweep you away. No agendas, no stresses yet, just you and God looking ahead. This is also the best time for sex in my opinion too. Something about starting your day with that release is pretty cool.

 

I wonder sometimes what it would be like to wake up next to somebody you were happy to see. To watch them sleep, to hold them, to want to cover them in kisses and touch every part of them. I'm a touchy feely person anyway but to have a spouse that you just want to be near, sounds amazing. The idea of having that emotional intimacy is intoxicating for me. It distracts my thoughts, influences my actions, appeals to my heart and my hope. Well everything except the spouse part.

 

I don't think I could or should marry again. I can't be trusted. I would live with someone, I would be committed but I would always want that door to be open. For whatever reason marriage seems like a jail cell. I don't want to go back into one once I get out. However I see K and G together and their marriage is about freedom. It's inspirational.

 

Being together gives them permission to be themselves. The good and the bad. They are free to express what they want, when they want and how they want without there being backlash or punishment. They are free to break down because the other will be there for them. They are free to try new things because the other will be there to lift them up. There is freedom with them because of the love they share. I'm sure I'm not adequately describing it but just trust me, their marriage is freedom. It's so different from anything I've seen before and yet my heart recognizes it as truth.

 

What I grew up seeing is abuse, anger, bitterness, resentment, frustration. I don't think I ever saw my parents hug or kiss. It was rare to even see them together although I have vivid memories of them physically fighting and me being scared for my dad because he refused to hit a woman. So he just let her beat on him. I guess it was better than her beating on me or my brother. Shouldn't have happened at all but ya know, it is what it is. Point being, I knew that was wrong. I often wished my parents would have gotten divorced so I could have a safe place somewhere. But with my friends, their marriage is safe and loving. Probably a little co-dependent but why not? It works for them.

 

I wonder what it would be like to be in a relationship like that. I feel like I have a friendship like that with L but we are just friends. Although at one point when I was trying to figure out how to sort out what I was feeling, thought he and I should be FWB. Lol! But that was a stupid whim and a feeble attempt to make myself feel better about the current situation. Now that I'm willing to take an honest, hard look at things, I don't want that. I never really did. FWB is good in theory, not so good played out. It is merely a distraction from the truth. A truth that needs to be accepted, faced and either acted upon or not. That would be my choice. One I'm still pondering.

 

God has put L and K in my life. An amazing guy and girl friends. I used to question it. But now I see I am not meant to. They have taught me to trust in friendship, they have showed me unconditional love, they have blessed me with their opinions, wisdoms and truths. They listen, don't need or want the short version, and get it so I don't have to say too much. Holy cow is that a gift. I can be in a room with either one of them and it can be silent, and it isn't awkward. We just get each other. Love that. But I like silence. Probably why I adore lazy mornings so much. The silence, the peace, the positive energy as the sun reveals itself to the world and the potential for the day ahead is set. What a beautiful time. Just wish I had someone to share it with...

 

I did it again

Well I did it again. Not even sure what exactly I did but I got in trouble again tonight at practice tonight. Not at practice but afterwards. He bitched me out the whole way home about how I was a distraction, how I should be a better example, how I shouldnt drink, how I was disrespectful to my friends but especially to him. On the way there it was how I was an embarrassment for bringing my sparkly shoes and how I am slutty for wearing my hair curly. He also wouldn't let me drive my car or smoke in my car. Guess it's only my car when he's not around.

 

I hate how he hides. I know he doesn't hide completely at practice but when I directly confront him on something in front of our friends, he denies it. It annoys me so much. Why pretend if we aren't happy? Why pose for pictures when neither one of us really want to be seen together? Why bother? But we do. We go through the motions, he hides as much as he can but I think our friends are through it.

 

What bothers me most is that I really don't think I want a lot from him. Just some acceptance, some love, some patience, some grace. He ends nearly every church service encouraging the perish members to give grace, get grace, have grace and yet he doesn't seem to know what that means. What it disheartening is that he isn't capable of it. Again, he's not a bad guy. He would be a fine husband for a woman who wants to be submissive and controlled. But that is not me.

 

I've never been able to tow the line. I talked with T tonight about how I walk the line. Always have. It's just who I am. It makes me who I am and because I do, I can relate to all sorts of people. It makes me an effective minister but apparently it's not something my husband can accept nor tolerate about me. My friends seem to be ok with it but they aren't married to me.

 

I suppose it's hard to be married to someone who lets her flaws be seen. I suppose it's hard to be married to someone that genuinely loves anyone. I suppose it's hard to be married to someone who only takes finances, child rearing and love seriously. But that's who I am. I don't think it makes me bad, just different than he thought I would be. I still wonder why he says he's in love with me. Maybe those things appeal to him but he didn't realize that being married to someone like that was going to drive him crazy but trust me, I drive him crazy.

 

I really miss talking to my friend L who is in the same position because when I'm told constantly either directly or indirectly that who I am is bad, it's a relief to hear from him and find out I'm not as bad as I am told I am. Even though h tries to isolate me so I don't find support out there, I refuse to be shut down and placed in a position where I am stuck with my own thoughts.

 

I doubt myself constantly. It's because of how I was raised.  So placing myself in the same situation yet again is not surprising. I'm learning but I'm still quick to assume in bad, I'm to blame, I'm guilty and I deserve to be punished. Quite frankly, as much as I wish for a man who can see me and love me, it scares me. What if I did find a man who accepted me? Could I handle bring loved like that? Would I trust it? Would I push him away and test him to see if he really could handle me?

 

Probably. I would need a man who would be willing to stick with me no matter what. A man to tell me how amazing I am. How beautiful I am. How, even though I'm broken, I'm still worth something instead of being reminded of each and every mistake I make or how I'm a disappointment or how I need to be different. Aren't I good enough just as I am?  God says I am. My kids say I am. My friends say I am. Why do I even bother second guessing myself? I don't know but I do and his one discouraging word can supersede any kindness or compliment I may be given. I'm tired of living like this. But it's how it's going to be for now. I promised him a chance so a chance I will give.

Until then I guess I'll keep messing up and taking my punishment like a good little girl.

 

He doesn't even like you!

Those are the words I heard from my 12 year old today. After she said he doesn't even like her. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised because this isn't the first time I've heard that but I was surprised. Especially with it coming out of her mouth. After both girls venting at me for a half hour about what a jerk h was to them last night including the boldface lie he told when asked a point blank question, I finally asked the question. "Would you be upset if he and I weren't together anymore?", and the response was "not really, we'd be a lot happier without him". Again surprised at the answer.

 

Where have I been? I would not have predicted such a response. Here I thought I was the only one miserable in this. I thought I was the only one who felt bullied by him. I thought I was the only one who saw how inconsistent he is. But I'm not. None of us know if today he'll be okay with laughter at the dinner table when yesterday he wasn't. We don't know if today it's my car or his. Today we don't know if he will get upset because we aren't hanging as a family together or if he's going to isolate.

Sad thing is I know that if I told him how they felt, he would be hurt by it. So I'm not going to. That's just mean and yet I kind of feel like he should know. It isn't just me. But on the other hand, like I told the girls, he can ground them and parade his parental rights over them. It's better for him to be mad at me so I need to keep buffering.

 

He says I'm too easy on the girls. But I don't think I am. I address things with them but I do it calmly and respectfully. What good is freaking out and/or punishing without first getting the whole story. Besides they are good kids, there is very little to be upset with them about. They do what they are asked when I ask them and usually without complaint. They do well in school. They know to be respectful and we'll-mannered when away from home and are usually at home too. Granted their rooms aren't always clean which is awful to some people but they are responsible for themselves, their pets, their laundry and their grades. My job as mom is not to guilt or shame but to encourage, lift up and support them. But in his eyes it makes me weak and a push over.

 

I guess I just don't care if they forget to pick up the mail as they walk by the mailbox from the bus stop. I guess I just don't care if they leave their backpack on the table. It gets moved when I ask. I don't care if they want their rooms to be dusty and messy, they live in it not me.

 

What I do care about is how much sleep they get, what food they eat, that they shower on a regular basis, that they maintain a b average in school, that they learn how to cook, do their own laundry, balance a checkbook, pay their phone bill, respect curfew. And most importantly they are never afraid to ask me for help. I'm limited in what I can do but I want them to always feel like they can talk about sex, boyfriends, h, God, school friends, drinking, drugs, etc. I want that line of communication to be always open with them.

 

But h doesn't. He doesn't like that I have that kind of relationship with my girls. He gets upset if I spend too much time with them or if they need someone to talk to, they are being needy or whiney or "girls".

 

I wish I could some how reflect how he says the word "girls" when he's talking about them and me. There is so much disdaine in his voice. The cynicism just drips off his tongue and even his eyes shut like he just can't believe he has to deal with us girls. For a man with 6 girls, you would think he'd think of each of them as his little princesses and his wife his queen. But nope. There's hatred in his voice. Don't get me wrong, he's not a closet gay man but he does have issues with women that have strong opinions or have too much fun. That's pretty much all of us so it's no wonder.

 

I see how G is with his daughters and wife, they both are his beautiful creatures that he has been blessed with. He doesn't always feel worthy of such beauty in his life and yet he cherishes every word, every moment, every touch with them. Then you see him with his grand daughters and it's even sweeter. Isnt that the way it should be. I want to be adored. I want to be appreciated. I want to be respected. I want him to laugh when I'm random and goofy, to feel pride when I'm strong, to feel love when I'm independent and to find humor in me when I do something dorky (Which is a lot). At the very least to like me and like my girls.

 

You just know

I asked a friend how you know if you've found the "one". His response was you just know and you know because you just want to be with that person. I'm paraphrasing here but that was the gist. If I accept his answer as truth then I shouldn't be blogging at all. Since I'm questioning my marriage among other things, he is not the one. I don't really like to spend time with him and I find myself preferring to be alone. I shouldn't wish he had somewhere to be all the time. I shouldn't feel like I have to be a buffer between him and the kids. If I didn't have all this water under the bridge, would I want to be with him? Would my perspective change?

 

He will tell you I'm the one. He fell in love with me the moment he saw me, that I'm a blessing, that he doesn't want to live life without me. Even as I write those things I find myself rolling my eyes. If this is love, then I want hate. No that's not true but if this is his view of love, then we are certainly not going to work out. However as the more seasoned Christian here, should I be the one to set an example and learn to love him as he is? Does he continue to hold on to something I think is awful because he loves me beyond the circumstances? Can it work if only one side has that kind of love?

I complain about him but clearly I'm the verbal one here. I'm the one with the problem. I'm the one putting my foot down and I'm the one saying it's not going to work. Am I the problem? Is my twisted upbringing tainting my perceptions? I am the problem here but I can't help but wonder if it's because I'm just not easy to please or live with. What are my expectations excluding love that he cannot live up to them?

 

I expect honesty, faithfulness, dialogue, companionship, respect, kindness, gentleness, affection, sex, laughter, sharing of interests and passions. What of that list am I getting or think I'm getting: sex, sharing of interests and passions, some affection, faithfulness. What I'm missing: dialogue, companionship, respect, kindness, gentleness, laughter and the other half of affection. I omitted the honesty one because he can't be honest with himself much less with me or anyone else.

A few weeks ago we were hanging out with a friend in his garage and I had a few beers. Not good because I babble and my secrets are not secrets anymore. So I casually made a comment about the physical abuse. How he wouldn't know if my punches would hurt because I've never laid a hand on him but that I know his hurt. Well our friend asked him really and h just avoided the question until our friend let it go.

 

The husband and I had a conversation about it afterwards because I got in trouble for making the comment and almost revealing our secret. Huh, our secret. It shouldn't happen at all much less be "our secret". Grr. Like I said, the honesty thing isn't happening with him.

 

And I'm not being honest with him by writing these blogs. When talking to him, I sugar coat the truth out of fear. I avoid telling him what is truly on my mind, how I have no hope in him or in us, how I am unable to see a future with him, how his attempts at change will never be enough to save this, that in my mind one year is one year too long. He doesn't know those things. I continue to smile, try to do what is expected of me, live a little my own way when I'm around friends or when he is gone.

I guess I didn't realize how resolved I am until just now. I just know we aren't suppose to be together. Guess my friend was right, you just know.