The Truth

Hello Everyone,

The weekend was good. Excellent in fact. But re-entry back into my life is not so fun. I'm glad I'm busy at work. I have some things to do and concentrate on here. I'm on my lunch break, and obviously there is a lot on my mind or I wouldn't be writing.

This blog has become more of a journal of my journey right now rather than an homage to my dear, innocent little son. I love that one so much. He is the best part of me, of my life. Thank you God!

Today it was real sweet to see his little 3-foot body (he's grown so tall!) on his 2-yr old little boy sitting on the porch stoop with his daddy. Oh was a sight! I paused and took it in. It was a fleeting moment. But it was real. I loved it. And oh how I wished it were different. I wish my husband wasn't doing what he's doing right now. I wish I could tell Matt all my thoughts. I wish it could all be different. My life, my nightmare, my bittersweet journey. It's not right — some things can change in seeming instant. I pray it gets better. I pray we can be a family again. I wish it were different, but my wishing is what is causing this intense pain in my heart, a pain that I'm not sure Matt is feeling in the same way.

There's so much I'd like to say, but for now, I have to just be and let some things go. I try to make it through each day. As I said, the weekend was beautiful. I treasure it. I want to go back up next weekend if I can. It was a lovely reprieve. But the price for that weekend was a little high. Coming home hurt. Coming to work hurt. Coming back to reality is hard to swallow. It's unbelievable! And for today, I have to accept the reality of my situation, which is:

I'm a separated women. 

For now.

I said it. And now you know. It's too hard to talk about at this very moment. I have friends who will be reading this and haven't been told by me personally. I ask if you know me and you are reading this, that you please try to allow me the opportunity to bring it up in person to you when—and if—I'm ready. You can let me know you read this if you want, but allow me the space to not share anything more. It's not something I want to blab to the world yet mainly because it's a story that doesn't seem like it can be told. Telling it makes it real. I may be contradicting myself by saying that, but it makes sense to me. I'm sharing part of it here,yes. Yet there's a safety in writing, a small reprieve from the hurt, the pain, the nightmare.

I can't tell you details just now. I can only ask for prayers. I hope that I can get more days of peace strung together. I hope that I can focus on my child more often, because right now, the pain of my marriage falling apart is much stronger than my ability to love my child, and I'm not sure why. I love Oliver so much and when my nights (or days) are so dark that I don't think I can go on, he is my light, my lifeline. Thoughts of Oliver pull me out of the pitiful muck, the spiral down to hell. Yet there are moments I can't hold it in in front of him. There are moments I can't look at him. There are moments I just want to run after my husband and beg him to come home to our life again. And during those moments Oliver is just a ghost beside me on the floor, playing cars, chasing cats, throwing balls, singing ABC and Yes Sir Yes Sir three bags full....

I have snapped out of that place a bit this weekend. Last Thursday I was 100% present for our son. And this weekend was mainly all about him. I left my tears to my pillow after he fell asleep each night. And I sleep well. All but one night.

There is so much help around me. I need to remind myself to turn my back away from my problems and reach out to all the hands and hearts that are offering me salvation and comfort. Every time I look away I find help in every direction. Please keep me, Matt and Oliver in your prayers. It's all I can ask.

Thanks everyone.