We went to marriage therapy on Thursday.  It was a little rough on both of us.  We talked about our "house" that we need to rebuild.  And we talked about my husband's job and his lack of wanting to keep his job.  Our Bishop asked me to advise the marriage therapist that he wanted to talk to her, so I gave her his phone number.  They evidently talked later that afternoon.  The Bishop then advised me that he wanted to talk to my individual therapist.  I have to admit, my insides started churning at the thought.  Please don't misunderstand, I love my Bishop, he is a great man, and he knows A LOT about what is going on but not everything.  I advised my Bishop that I was struggling with my husband not wanting to keep his job because we were still not sleeping in the same room and my Bishop went off on me.  He advised me that he understood my husband's confusion and frustration because he felt that my husband had done everything that had been asked of him.  He advised me that I was confusing my children and what kind of message was I sending them.  He then advised me that the price of my decisions could come at a very large cost. 

I thought of those comments all day.  I cry myself to sleep almost every night with regards to my decisions.  I know of my Husband's confusion and frustration, I am living it.  I know of my children's confusion and pain, again, I am living it.  I know the cost, I am fully aware of the fact that I could lose my entire family.  Some days, it is just too much to make large decisions.  Why is all of this on my shoulders?  When does my husband have to carry his weight of responsibility? 

I don't expect many to understand my decisions, because realistically, I don't understand my own decisions.  There has been a couple times when I was still sleeping in the same bed as my husband when I was sleeping and he made some advances towards me.  Now, that may seem trivial to another married woman, but to a woman that is uncovering an abusive past. lying in bed with a man that makes unwarranted sexual advances, takes her control away from her once again.  Each time, he woke me up.  I would confront him and he would say it was an accident.  When I would tell him what I felt, and then what I saw, it was not an accident.  His  comment would then be "a married man should be able to touch his wife." 

Don't get me wrong, this is not anything he signed up for when he married me.  I truly did not remember the abuse.   Does a marriage certificate give him the right to do what he wants with my body?  Is it my fault that I did not remember the abuse and so I wasn't fully honest with him?  Was I not fully honest with all those Bishop's that asked if I kept the law of Chastity?  Every day I question if I have ruined his life. 

My individual therapist is going out of town over the weekend and so I had my session last night.  I was not looking forward to it because I was still processing my session from last Saturday.  I am still trying to process it, and now I have a new session to process.  I did my homework Monday night and proceeded to cry for HOURS!  It was not an easy project and it made for a long night and because of the crying and the swollen eyes from the crying made for a long day.  I was exhausted yesterday.  I tried to wake up to go for my walk yesterday, but went back to sleep instead.

So, last night we worked thru my homework assignment and then we talked about me.  We talked about the things that I like and don't like about me. 

As we talked she asked "if you had your house burn down what would you do?"  I would rebuild!  We talked about this new house.  The new house would never be the same as the one that I lost.  It could be bigger, and even better than the old house.  I have actually watched as a couple of our clients have lost their homes to fire.  They have nothing.  They have insurance, but  there are things that no amount of insurance could buy.  The charred pictures, the heirlooms of the past, they can never be replaced. 

I must admit, I am still mourning my old house.  My husband is mourning the old house. 

OK, I am just going to say, Therapy is rough!  We are really starting to get into the nitty gritty of "me".  I am so not comfortable finding out my feelings towards "me".  I hate that therapy doesn't end when I leave.  My last session was on Saturday, and my mind, and my tears have not stopped since I left.  My therapist is going out of town this weekend and so my next session is tomorrow, I have been thinking about my homework assignment all day.  I need to get it done because I can guarantee I am going to probably cry thru the entire assignment.  I keep thinking that I can't do it, but in my heart, I know it has to be done.  I have never known pain like this.  Childbirth and thyroid cancer are nothing compared to the pain that I have had in my heart over the last year. 

Yesterday, I went to the Brigham City Temple dedication.  I cried thru the whole thing.  It is the closest I have come to a Temple in over a year.  I still struggle so much with feelings of worthiness.  As I prepared to go yesterday, I did everything I could to avoid my feelings.  I even in my heart had to fight to even get myself ready to go.  I literally got ready in 5 minutes.  My family was even in the car waiting for me.  I got in there and we sat right behind the Bishop.  Bless his heart, he is really trying to help me thru this.  In the 1 1/2 hours that the session took to complete I completely used 4 Kleenex.  They were soaked, and I was an emotional mess.  I sat with my two girls and cried.  I was so uncomfortable sitting there, I can't tell you how many times I had to remind myself that I was worthy to be there.  My daughters started to ask questions about the Temple, questions about my sister that passed away.  They asked about her Husband.  My sister did not marry in the temple.  She struggled with her marriage, but I truly believe that she loved her Husband.  My heart was heavy as I thought about her Earth life.  Her greatest desire was to be sealed to her Husband, and I can promise you that she will be with him Forever.  It will take some work from this side, and there will have to be some hearts that heal but it will happen for her. 

I am going to confess, I thought I was doing so well that I didn't need to post.  I thought I didn't have any problems, but what I found is that once again, I avoided situations.  I know, hard to believe that I would avoid anything, right? 

I don't look at my bank account, because I avoid the fact that I have no money.  I also avoid the fact that I see my families spending habits.  The last 2 days I have been trying to let someone else (my husband) deal with it.  He wants to live a nice life style.  Unfortunately, we can't afford the lifestyle that we used to.  I question why we can't.  Why is it that I still have the same job that I have had for 15 years, but yet we can't afford to live the way we were even 5 years ago?  My husband is now working full time, the first time in years since he has done that, but yet, we still come up short, and not just monthly, but in fact, every pay check we are in the negative.  How do I get above this?

The last 2 days he has had this purchase that he wants to make.  I have not wanted to deal with it because I see our finances and think that we cannot afford this particular purchase.  The total price for this purchase is $75, my husband does not see it as a huge expense, but in my head I see a power bill, or a medical bill.  When I advised him that we didn't really have the money for it he called us "white trash", he said he would come up with the money.  I still see it as him coming up with the money thru other means, and not applying it to where it really needs to go. 

We are starting into his sports season.  He has started sharing his rational thinking with me-the "I can work my full time job for $7.25/hr, or I can go and do a volleyball game for $40" to him it is a no-brainer.  I am tired of being in my head because in my head I can do the math as well, but where is the commitment?  To be honest, we have not talked to his family about the things going on in our home.  Yesterday, I advised his sister that he was working full time and she asked what would happen to his sports schedule by his working full time.  I quickly changed the subject, she advised me that we need to get caught up and that we would meet sometime soon to discuss our lives.  Even my Bishop has asked me this question-what happens when work starts interfereing with his sports-then what?  Can I ask everyone this question?  Why is this my problem?  Why is everyone asking me? 

Yesterday, my Bishop asked again if I was committed to my marriage.  I didn't respond.  I don't know how to respond any more.  Some days I am fine!  I have been told several times that "I don't know", is not an answer, so many times I have to sit and ask the question again in my head before I respond.  I hear so many of the words he has said to me.  I can't tell you how many times this week his comment from marriage therapy has played in my head.  "Are you just using your abuse as an excuse to avoid having sex with me?"  Do you know how many times in my life over the last year I wish that the abuse didn't even exist?  Do you know how many times over the last week I have wished this? 

Last night, was individual therapy.  On Friday, I worked all day, even ate lunch at my desk.  My body started hurting, I thought it was just from sitting.  Needless to say, McDonald's fixed our dinner.  Friday, night, the pain just got more persistant, and I knew I was getting sick.  I sat in a bubble bath, and took lots of Ibuprofen.  I had a scratchy throat.  Saturday morning, is my favorite day usually because I get to take my long walk to the Temple.  However, yesterday, I woke up and I had hit a brick wall.  My body hurt so bad and I was so congested.  I truly thought I could do nothing.  Even my eyes hurt, my ears hurt, my toes hurt.  Our family was assigned to clean the church and I didn't want to let anyone down, so I went and cleaned the church.  I just took a lot of ibuprofen.  I got home fixed my kids breakfast and then went back to bed.  I still had to do some errands and so I would rest, and then I would do what I needed to do until I hit that brick wall again, and then I would rest again.  I am doing that routine again today. 

I knew I didn't feel well, and I worried about being contagious, but I am being a little selfish when I say this, but I think I would have felt worse if I did't go to therapy, so I took my Ibuprofen, and went to therapy. 

This week, I struggled with what kind of friend I am.  I don't feel like I am a very good friend.  I feel like I overwhelm a lot of people, friends, therapists, family, the list goes on and on.  I have been diagnosed with Borderline Personality.  I researched borderline and friendships.  I have struggled with the diagnosis.  My therapist last night reminded me that we went thru the manual and yes, I have borderline, but I am not borderline.  I researched and unfortunately, borderline does not ever go away.  It is something that I will have to learn to live with.  It is very hard to do that.  I watched a commercial on Disney channel where a young girl talks about dyslexia.  I think that if I could relate borderline to anything it would be dyslexia.  With dyslexia you have to learn how to read, once you realize what you have to do to read, you live with those lessons and everytime you read something, you follow your lessons.  Borderline is the exact same way, I have learned lessons in therapy, to help me thru life, granted sometimes there is so much stuff going on that it is hard to remember the lessons.

I just recognized that this will be my 100th post.  Another milestone for me.  YAY me!

This morning on my walk I was reflecting on a lot of things.  To be honest, I have had the statistic 1 in 6 running thru my mind all weekend long.  1 in 6 girls are abused.  To me, the thought comes that means 5 of 6 are safe.  5 of 6 are protected from the hurt, pain and scars that abuse leaves.  I am not going to lie, how I wish I could say I was 1 of the 5 that were protected.  Being that 1 of 6 makes you feel very alone.  It's like the 5 are standing in a line and you are the 1 on the side.  I am not going to say I haven't thought that I wished I were 1 of the 5.  I have wished that I would have been 1 that was protected. 

Yesterday, in marriage therapy, it was rough.  My husband is quite confused with things that are going on around him.  I don't blame him, but I am just as confused as he is.  Or maybe I am a liittle more confused than he is, but I also don't want to be the kind of person that says "I am hurting more than you." One of the questions he asked me-flat out- was I using the abuse as an exuse to avoid sex with him?  I sat there, almost dumbfounded, my husband then started asking deeper questions, and the therapist stopped him, as I sat there dumbfounded, and asked my husband to give me a minute to process the question that was asked.  I was grateful for that minute.  I wasn't grateful for the question, but was grateful for the minute that I had a chance to answer.  I know that I have told my husband before the issues that I have had with sex since the first flashback over a year ago, but I guess he forgot.  I did sit there and cry as I explained that I have always considered sex to be very sacred.  The flashbacks are so real.  I have tried to be intimate with my husband, I have tried to use my "mindfulness" skills that I have learned in therapy to be in the moment.  It has been so much work to be in the moment that I go to bed with the worst headaches I have had because it was all I could do to be in the moment with him and fight back the flashbacks. 

The therapist talked about love languages.  My husband feels like he needs to show his love language to me thru touch.  I had to be honest, but the love language of touch right now makes my skin crawl.  Even to feel his breath on the back of my neck makes me crawl.  She tried to explain that to my husband he needs to find another love language for me, and it's not touch, but acts of service.  She then asked me to learn of my husbands love language.  Unfortunately, I am not stupid and his primary love language is touch.  If I can't have that for my own love language, what makes you think I can touch him to show him love?  So, I have to find his secondary love language.  I cried, quite a bit in therapy yesterday.  And, yes, I will probably have  a lot to discuss with my individual therapist on Saturday as I sort thru my own feelings. 

I tried blogging yesterday.  I actually started twice, but to no avail.  My thoughts are everywhere.  I know, I say that every day, so nothing new right?

I left my therapy session Saturday feeling as though I did not accomplish anything.  As we talked, I disclosed some very personal feelings, she asked me to share them in marriage therapy.  If you remember, I was dumped by another therapist because I created a "triangle" between he and myself, and my marriage.  So, I evidently, still don't know how to separate my marriage from my individual therapy.  However, the things that my individual therapist asked for me to share in marriage therapy, I am not comfortable sharing in marriage therapy.  They are still very personal.  To be honest, I left therapy and cried, I truly didn't feel like I did anything.  I couldn't do the homework assignment that she had requested.  The reason for that is because I put off my assignment for the weekend because it is pretty intense homework that I am doing in my individual therapy.  I didn't expect to go to marriage therapy on Thursday and go thru the mess of emotions that I did.

We had marriage therapy on Thursday, and as I said in a prior post, I thought it was hard.  I left that session in tears too.  One of the things that our marriage therapist said on Thursday is that she was going to put our marriage to the test.  I will be honest, I have thought of that statement several times, and I don't know if I am up for the challenge.  I am so tired.  I really have felt over the weekend that having no relationships sounds pretty good to me.  I have thought that if I could be invisible, I would. 

So, I actually posted yesterday's post today.  I thought about that post all day yesterday, that is until I went to marriage therapy.  But, even this morning, I thought about that post.  I finally decided to just post it because realistically, it is what I think about, on a daily basis, and this blog is for me. 

It has been a year since my first flashback.  I am still going thru a lot of HELL.  I have a lot of homework to do and I put it off until I absolutely have to because I sort thru it in my head.  I sort thru a lot.

Yesterday, in marriage therapy, my husband stressed how much he wanted me to "get over" my abuse and put it behind me.  I keep trying to get him to understand, I finally said in front of the therapist yesterday, it's not going away.  I don't just "get over it".  The abuse is a part of ME.  Am I the only one in this relationship that understands that?  I am a different person than the person he married.

The therapist asked me yesterday, "is anything Jed does ever going to be good enough?"  I found it interesting that she would ask me that, because he is the one that told me that as he was leaving my home.  He turned to my children and said that "he will never be able to do anything good enough" for me.  I have replayed that statement in my head probably a thousand times but yesterday, when the therapist said it, it hurt.  I have looked at everything I do, from my morning routine, to my chore charts, to my scripture reading and church attendance, and wonder if I am "high maintenance".  Do I really ask that much from people?  Am I needy?  This morning on my walk, I again thought of that statement. 

I found that I have given everything I have to this family.  I have given them my best, even on my worst days.  As my husband sat and told the therapist about his ankle and the pain he is in when he comes home from work and standing on his feet all day.  I thought of the years I worked at Village Sports Den, and then went to work at Karleen's.  I thought of the years that I worked at Dick's Bakery.  Sure, I sit in a chair for probably 6 hours a day.  My days are long.  I work really hard, even if I am sitting.  I have stood for hours, some days, 12 hours at the Bakery during the holidays, I understand standing for hours at work.  But, I also have known sleepless nights with a newborn and living on less than 3 hours of sleep.  I have known days where I was so sick that I could barely move.  Since my thyroid surgery, I have known days where my calcium is so low that every muscle in my body cramps up.  Where even my toes curl because of the calcium issue.  I know pain.  I am not saying that I don't believe that his feet hurt, or that he comes home tired.  But, I do too.  This isn't supposed to be a "my life is harder than yours" marriage.  What I am saying is that I have given EVERYTHING.  I even say to myself "nothing I do will ever be good enough" of myself.  I don't ask anything of my family.  I do it all myself, I don't ask any more of them than I ask of myself.  I deserve to have someone give their best for me.  I deserve to have someone love me, even on my bad days when I am not good enough for myself.

This morning as I walked my daughter to the bus stop I questioned if I was crazy.  It is so early in the morning.  I am up even before the Sun that is how crazy it is.  It is starting to get cold in the morning.  In my head that means one thing-time to change the work out attire.  Again!?!  Why in the HELL do I struggle with what I wear, no one is awake, oh wait, I know, It's because work out clothing to me is so revealing!  I hate it!  I haven't tried on my warmer workout clothes in months so I am not even sure how they fit.  The pants were already a little big, but honestly, it is the shirt that is freaking me out.  Maybe one day I will be able to explain my feelings but I already feel like I have disclosed so much about the real me.

I truly thought that every person hated their body, or themselves for that matter. 

School started for all of the little ones yesterday.  I loved being the Mom of our little one.  She was so brave as she went to her first day of Kindergarten.  She was a little shy.  She knows no one in her class but one little girl.  I have her convinced that she will have a huge circle of friends by the end of the school year.  One thing about it, my kids do not have a hard time making friends.  We have always taught them that everyone needs a friend and we are all different, and it is OK. 

Today is a new day.  A new day to learn new things, to grow, and conquer.  We get to choose how we live each moment of each day. 

I am tired today.  4:45 starts my day, really early.  When your mind doesn't shut off until after midnight, it makes for a really long day.  It's sad that I debate on taking a "sleep aid" each night because it is either sit and listen to me think, or sleep and wake up a little groggy.  I have to admit, I probably medicate myself to sleep at least once a week.  Diet Coke right now is my best friend.  It doesn't have an opinion of me, and it doesn't try to solve my problems, and it doesn't tell me what I have done wrong, and it keeps me awake on these long days, and I am happier.  (Holy Crap, sounds like Diet Coke is my drug of choice!  Probably something else I need to address with my therapist, but I need to take small steps right now, the last 2 weeks my sessions have been giant leaps!)  Have I said I was tired?

I cry myself to sleep every night.  I pray constantly to know that when all is said and done, I am going to make it thru this OK. 

I am going to be honest, this has totally changed my testimony of God and his son Jesus Christ.  My mind has been filled with doubt.  My heart pleads for answers.  I pray constantly to understand, I pray for the painful memories to stop, I pray for my heart to truly forgive, not only my brother but also myself, and I pray for my love of the Savior and my Heavenly Father to increase. 

Before I started this journey, I was almost egotistical when it came to my testimony.  I knew without a doubt that God existed, and that he lives.  I will admit, I have always struggled with his love for me.  I felt that the testimony that I had would carry me thru to the next life and then I could figure out what I was missing in the next life.  I always struggled with my faith, but again, I had eternity to figure that out.  My testimony was good!  It was where I felt it needed to be at that time in my life. 

My first flashback was truly an answer to a prayer.  I have struggled with prayer ever since.  They say that Heavenly Father doesn't give you more than you can handle.  I know that he is the only one that sees the end from the beginning so I have to have faith that he knew that I would come out of this better than I was.  He must have had a whole lot of faith in me because I am not so sure that I have that much faith in myself.  There are so many times where I just want to let go.  I keep holding on to the Iron Rod, hoping that I will make it thru the dark clouds that surround me.  I can't tell you how many times a day I have to decide to just hang on.  I don't know what I am hanging on for.  I think it is just fear of letting go.  There are days where it would be so much easier to go the way of the world. 

I know that there are many that have trials in life that I could never even comprehend.  I never want to minimize someone else's pains.  Each one of us have our trials that are made for us.  I have to admit, I have asked If God loves me, why this?  Like I said, my testimony was good, it was enough, for me.  How does he know I won't let go?

I have had a hard week.  As I said last week was the most intense therapy session I have ever had.  This week has brought even more challenges.  We received a notice that we were being foreclosed on by our condo association.  I also went and deposited my pay check in the bank and found that we were $400 in the hole. 

This last week, I struggled with my emotions and my religion.  As I have said, I am LDS, I am not ashamed of my religion.  Realistically, the feelings that I have had this week don't have anything to do with my religion, but of my relationship with my Heavenly Father.  I know that we have a Heavenly Father, and an elder brother, Jesus Christ.  They are clearly to me, two separate beings.  I have been told my entire life that the Lord (our Heavenly Father) doesn't give you more than you can handle.  But, I have also been told, and it is even in the scriptures that he will make our "burdens" become light.  Right now, I know Satan is having his way with me.  The emotions that I have... fear, anger, hate, and confusion, are all from Satan.  I cry a lot because I don't want to feel these emotions.  I have talked with my LDS Bishop this week about these feelings.  I was asked by my therapist to write a letter to my brother and express my feelings to him in writing.  I was asked by a therapist earlier to do this.  I really did my homework, but I have been trying to avoid these feelings, so my first letter to my brother I wrote him 6 pages and when I started getting angry, I quit.  So, when I talked with my Bishop about this letter, I felt almost as though I was asking for forgiveness  before actually expressing my feelings of anger, hate, and confusion.  He explained that I needed to separate the feelings for the act vs the feelings for my brother.  Because, yes, even Heavenly Father has anger towards unrighteous acts.  I told this to my therapist and bless her heart she said "yes, but Heavenly Father is a perfect being", and unfortunately, I am not.  My Bishop told me to just get the feelings out and we will deal with what comes next. 

As I wrote the letter, I felt every emotion that I have described.  Memories of not only the sexual abuse, but also the physical abuse came to the surface.  The fear that I lived in, the humiliation that I lived with, it was all there.  After I married, I had nothing to do with my brother, after he married, he had nothing to do with our family, so the occasions that we met we were acquaintances. 

My parents still know very little about the abuse.  At one point my Mother asked me about therapy.  I told her that I needed to work on forgiving my siblings.  She asked about my older sister (which truly was my mother's pride and joy, and we all knew it), I explained to my Mom that she made life difficult growing up when she became bulimic and then when she became promiscuous and then the drugs and alcohol.  All of those experiences did not just affect her, but affected our entire family.  She asked about my older brother.  I explained to her that he was mean, if our family had any bully it would have been him, she then turned to me and asked "well, do you think that he would ever be sorry for what he did?"  I remember that comment as it has played over and over in my head.  If she asked me that today, I have thought about what I would say.  The answer, would be "yes", he will have to go thru HELL to get there, but he will eventually be sorry for what he did.  No one in my family addresses anything that my older brother did.  I know that I was not the only child he physically abused, I pray I was the only child he sexually abused. 

I wrote my letter as requested by my therapist as well as my Bishop.  I stopped before I could finish, so my homework this week is to finish.  I stopped when it started getting to the point where I began mentally trying to figure out my role in all of this.