Dearest Anon...

Okay I've been silent for quite some time ... I still draw strength from your comments and take an interest in your lives. I'm just trying not to dwell on the bad.

HOWEVER....

A comment was left today that I find I cannot ignore. I would have just replied to the commentor as a comment myself, but I wanted to make sure they see it. So we'll just make a post about it. 


The Comment:

Anonymous said...

I've been following your blog for a long time and this post really made me see things in a whole new light.

Let me start off by saying that I KNOW what it's like to have a husband who is into porn. I know the pain it causes. It destroys your self esteem. Porn is a terrible thing.

So is nagging.

You are so desperately trying to change your husband and turn him into someone he is not. He is obviously not in a place where he WANTS to break his addiction. You can't force an addict to come clean. They have to want it. Clearly Amos doesn't want it. He says he wants to change, but he never does. At some point you have to wash your hands of it, and either leave, or accept that he occasionally likes to look at porn (which isn't really an addiction if he is only looking on the RARE occasion)

I can guarantee Amos doesn't see you as a strong, confident woman. He sees you as a nagging wife who won't just leave him alone. If it's not the porn it's him taking off for a few hours. If it's not that it's him picking his sister in law to cook instead of you. It's like nothing he ever does is good enough.

If I were a man and my wife nagged me as much as you nag Amos I'd either be cheating on her in the hopes that she finds out and it destroys her, or I'd just leave.

I know you're just trying to save your marriage, but have you stepped back and thought that maybe it's not worth saving? You're spending years of your life hurting...is it worth it? What if this lasts another 10 years and one of you finally decide to end it, will you look back and regret that you wasted so many years trying to make Amos something he's not?

The Reply:

Anon...

Holy... Wow. Just Wow.

I can swallow your entire comment as constructive critisim... except for this jewel...

"If I were a man and my wife nagged me as much as you nag Amos I'd either be cheating on her in the hopes that she finds out and it destroys her, or I'd just leave."

What were you thinking? Seriously? Did you walk away after making that comment and feel proud about it? Did you say that and think "Well there's some advice you can take to the bank!"  What is wrong with you? Have you stepped back and realized what it is you're reading? You're reading one side of a many faceted story from a very sad and very raw woman. And after hearing one side of one story you think you have the phenomonal insight to sit back and say my marriage isn't worth fighting for? That if you were my husband you'd walk out or cheat on me?  You truely think you're that wise?

Let me be clear here.. You have no clue, no idea, no way to even fathom what my marriage is like as a whole. 

As you read this blog there are a couple of things you have to remember...

First is that it's a place to vent. I don't talk about the good times because I don't need a venting place in the good times, I need one in the bad times. So the bad times are what I post.

Second... this has been building up for YEARS. You're watching the volcano erupt, you weren't there for the years of the agonizing heat building up.

Think of it this way....

Take your nails and rub them down your arm. Not a big deal right? Maybe you have long nails and it isn't the most pleasant sensation, but nothing to think twice about.

Now, take a piece of sandpaper and rub your arm vigorously for 20 minutes or so. Heck, even 10 minutes. At this point, your skin is red and angry and raw. Now take your nails and rub them down your skin again.

Suddenly the same action gets a whole different reaction doesnt it? Suddenly running your nails down your arm is more than uncomfortable... it's painful. It burns, it hurts, and you can feel it long after you're done touching your arm.

This is the state of my marriage. Things that wouldn't have been a big deal 6 years ago have suddenly become incredibly raw. Incredibly emotional.

I will never accept that my husband looks at porn. Why would I do that? Why would I be okay letting my husband jack off to the thought of another woman? Why would I knowingly let him have sex with me while he is imagining I'm someone else? Why would I set that example for my daughter? My son?  I will not live that way and wether you see it as confidence or nagging is up to you, but our marriage will meet the standards that WE set for it. No one elses. Even if it was "occasionally" that he looked at porn (and by the way... it's NOT. Prior to September he had, by his own estimation, spent about 3 months of our 6 year marriage not looking at porn. It's not that he looks occasionally, it's that he only gets caught occasionally.) I wouldn't stand for that either. Would you let your husband occasionally cheat on you? Or hit you? Or be abusive in any way? No of course not. And neither will I.

I'm all for constructive critisim but.... come on. I fail to see the construction in that bit of critisim.

Pulling Out

Get your mind out of the gutter. Not that kind of pulling out. I mean from blogging. I've been having conversations with Amos recently about this blog. I can't figure out if it hurts or helps. It's almost like picking a scab... I feel like I'm on the way to healing and then I just gush out some more. So I was trying to ease off into la-la land. I felt like we were headed in the right direction. He had been leaving me a note occasionally and once left me a "coupon" for a backrub last month. That's effort. We're still not there, by a long shot, but it's effort. So before I start this post I want to make sure he gets credit for that... he's trying.

Then Friday Happened. 
On Friday I had an eye appointment. I needed him to be home to take the kids so I asked him to be home by four o'clock. He agreed. My eye appointment was at 5, but I didn't tell him this. In the past he's been late almost every time I've asked him to come home at a certain time. This way I figured he didn't know he had any wiggle room so he'd come home and I'd be able to make my appointment on time. As expected, he was fifteen minutes late. I wasn't going to mention a word. But then, at dinner, he offers up this informtion: he was late because he stayed late at work to talk to his boss about guns. It wasn't a last minute work assignment as I had assumed. He stayed late just to chit chat. In this instance it didn't matter because we had some wiggle room, but he didn't know that.  I told him, calmly and even politely, that it makes me feel like a low priority when he is late for reasons like that. If I were just asking him to come home so I can go shopping for new shoes, that's one thing.... but I didn't like it when I had a doctor's appointment that could for all he knew he could have made me miss. I seriously spent about 3 minutes on this. I wasn't ugly or rude or catty. I really wasn't. But to hear him tell it you'd think I'd gone off the deep end. He later described it as "yelling" at him and telling him he was a "terrible person". 

I went to my appointment and everything was fine. At about 6 pm he told me he was going out. Then he did. At this time I assumed he had his phone with him so I wasn't worried. He had left the house to cool off before. Usually it lasts for a couple of hours. When eight came around I started getting a little worried. When ten came around I was in an all out panic. I knew he wouldn't like me calling him but I was really worried so I texted to find out where he was. He had (intentionally) left his cell phone at home. I text my sister in law to see if they had seen them, and they hadn't. At this point I'm really worried. We're a "bed by ten" kinda family and he had never been out more than two hours... Before all was said and done I had called the ER's of about ten hospitals and called the dispatchers of two different police stations.

Finally (about eleven) I heard the garage door open. I was so scared I was shaking. He walked in and I told him never to do that to me again. He said "I'll do my best."  At this point I was crying and beyond reliefe that he was alive. He was obviously still mad. I decided I'd broach this conversation again when we were calm. I did that today. And you get to read the outcome. Lucky you.

ME: I have to say something
now that everything is calm
are you there?
HIM: yes
ME: Okay.
the other night when you left and were gone for so long. I was REALLY scared. REALLY scared.
When I asked you to never do that again you said "I'll do my best"
That's not good enough
That's not okay
It was done from spite and frusteration
If you forget your phone, PLEASE stop and let me know you're okay
at a payphone or something
if I don't hear from you for five hours like that and it's that late at night, I'm going to assume you're hurt
and I'm going to be scared
I felt like when you came home and saw me crying that this was the reaction you were shooting for
am I wrong?
HIM: This is a dangerous conversation to have. Let's just move past it and remain in peace a calm.
ME: Can you please just tell me you won't do that again? It's totally fine to dissappear and take some Amos time, but you're a father and a husband. You need to let us know you're okay
can you do that?
HIM: No. I can't. There are times when I will leave my cell phone and be out of touch. I will either tell you that I'm leaving, or leave a note, or have my cell phone. I am a father and a husband...and once in a blue moon its good for me to go. This time I was the most disconnected (ie wireless) and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it. I just listened to my music and I felt...great.
I told you I was leaving this time.
ME:Yeah but you didn't tell me you'd be out all night
that scared me
can you NOT understand that?
For such a wonderful time that you had, I was falling apart
HIM: I didn't mean to scare you. That was never my intent.
ME: All I'm asking is for you to pull over and find a payphone and call me. Just say "Hey Esther I'm still out. I might be out for a while longer I just wanted you to know that I am okay"
that's all Im asking for
Or take your phone
and turn it off
What if I needed you?
Can you just check in every few hours? I'm not asking you to come home earlier, just tell me you're okay
HIM: No. What's the point of getting away and disconnecting if I have to check it every few hours? The point is to get away and disconnect. I wanted to be out until 3 am. Or later.
ME: That's not okay Amos you are a husband
you are MY husband
you are a father
when you said those vows you became accountable to someone
you hurt me
if you do it again
you'll hurt me again
don't do it
HIM: If this was a regular occurence...I'd totally agree with you. This is the first time I've desired to disconnect...for a brief window of time.
ME: So?
that makes it okay to scare the crap out of me?
you have NO IDEA what I went though
do you know how many hospitals I called?
two police stations and about 10 hospitals
and I had to tell every single one of them that I didn't know where my husband was
HIM: You don't think that was an overreaction on your part?
ME: No. I don't
I went to the grocery store one night and left my phone. I had been gone about two hours
and when I got home you said you had been worriede about me
HIM: how many hospitals and police stations did I call?
ME: none. But that's my point
that was TWO hours
what would you have done if it had been five
and I had stormed out
and we had just fought
HIM: You were not worried about me until after 10:00...less than an hour later you called hospitals.
ME: Bull crap
I was worried long before then
I just couldn't take it anymore after 10
just because I didn't start making calls till ten doesnt mean I wasn't worried
Wether you like it or not, you are accountable to me and I am accountable to you.
HIM: your text to B (B is my sister-in-law. He read my texts. I don't know why) didn't sound worried.
ME: So???
HIM: which is why I told you I was leaving.
ME: Do you think I'm lieing?
HIM: I think you went from 0 to 60 too quickly.
ME: It doesn't matter. The point is that I was scared and I am asking you as your wife to please just check in every few hours
Please
why are you fighing me on this?
I was so scared
please don't do that
HIM: I wish I was a fighter..I wish I had the ability to scream and yell and throw things. My only option is to just say, "yes dear..yes dear." You win every "argument" we have....you're always right. I can't promise I'm going to call every few hours if I leave the house. I might get angry or need to blow off steam or whatever you want to call it. I will make sure you know before I leave. I may or may not take my cell phone. I opted to not this time...I don't regret that decision....in fact I liked it so much I may do it again if the need arises..which I don't expect anytime soon...as long as we don't fight and I'm not accused of being a terrible person..which I realize is not words you said..I'm just saying..that's the flavor of all this...how terrible I am.
well..I'm terrible
I'm a terrible husband and father...because I wanted to be alone for..maybe 5 hours? During which time the most exciting thing I did was go to Taco Bell.
and I told you before hand that I was leaving...
I was late coming home by 15 minutes on Friday...I didn't like getting in trouble for that...at all. And my insides exploded and I left. if 6 hours is so much time that you call hospitals...remember this the next time I wake up early on Friday to get home for your appt and then come home 15 minutes later than expected...when the appt was an hour later...
and if I was late...you could have take the kids...
death was not on the line
you were there for...15 minutes?
not ideal I know..
and I try hard to make everything ideal
really hard
and there's pressure
and I never show it
but I think sometimes there's going to be evenings where I vanish and breathe and relax on my own terms
not saying this is the new normal or anything like that
so .....no...I will not call you every three hours when I do become angry over getting yelled at for being 45 minutes early instead of 60 minutes early
I almost for sure will not take my phone with me ever again if this happens...which again..I don't expect...this is not the new normal
ME: Okay I did NOT yell at you
I didn't raise my voice
I talked for 3 whole minutes about how it made me feel
that was IT
and I wasn't going to bring it up unless you did
and you over reacted
badly
HIM: well then all is even
ME: you hear things that I don't say
so if you feel like a terrible person
then that's all on you
because i do NOT treat you like one
if I can't tell you calmly and quickly how a situation made me feel then what kind of a relationship do we have
what happened to that communication skills you are so cocky about
we no longer have them if all you ever hear are things that i NEVER said
never even insuinated
and I mean it
if you don't give me a time frame to expect you
or at least call in and tell me you're alive
i'll think you're hurt
and if you saunter in and watch me cry and don't care at all
I'm going to take it badly
this first time is an accident
you didn't know the effect it would have on me
but the next time will be deliberate
if it is more important to you that you don't call me
and get to spend more time to yourself
KNOWING that I'm at home scared
then yes you are a jerk
and next time
it will be deliberate
and it will not go so smoothly
leaving me and not giving me any hint that you are okay
or what time to expect you back
is NOT acceptable
I gave alot for you
to be with you
and the least you can do is pick up an effing phone!
E did this to B one time (E is Amos' brother and B is his brother's wife) ONE TIME
and you know what he told her?
When he saw her crying and having a panic attack he told her he'd never put her though that agin
So NO
I'm not over reacting
and wanting my feelings and fears to be important to you is NOT unreasonable
and if you still refuse to pick up a phone every few frickin hours for a 20 second conversation then yes dear, you're an ass.

Ta-dah. The Esther and Amos saga. We cancelled our marriage counseling. Maybe that was a mistake. I just don't know how to communicate with him any more. I don't know how to tell him what I'm feeling without him putting words into my mouth. He's awful about that. He hears what he wants to hear. He draws hard lines without taking my feelings into account. What do I do with that? I'm sure I'm not perfect but I don't blow his feelings off the way he does with me. Sometimes I think about how much easier life would be if I could just go home. I'm so emotionally drained right now.

On the bright side I'm down to 204.... Yay(?)

My Walk Of Shame...

...is almost over.  It's so close I can taste it. Any plus size woman knows what I'm talking about.

Here's the scene. You're in the market for some new duds so you go to your favorite clothing store. As you stroll up the side walk, the store front comes into view. You see people wonder in and out of the doors with their arms full of  shopping bags and your heartbeat speeds up. You're excited.  You've been saving your money for weeks because you need new clothes.  And now you get them. This is gonna be awesome. You approach the store front windows and there in front of you is the cutest little pant/top combo you've ever seen and already you're deducting the cost of that outfit from your budget. A smile tugs your mouth and you stride confidently into the store fully expecting to walk out feeling like a super star. 

Then you walk in.  Everything is different when you walk in. There is a visible line inside that store. You got the itty bitties in the front of the store and the fluffy girls are set up in the back. And thus the walk of shame begins. You have to walk through the itty bitty section to get to your section. You feel all the eyes shift in your direction. You are weighed and measured. Everyone in that store notes that you are not thin enough to shop on their side of the store. To dare to browse around in the itty bitty section feels almost like your trespassing. You wonder to yourself what they think of you looking at their clothes and their styles and you slink back to your corner of the store.

Mind games. It's all mind games. Of course there is no enemy lines inside that store, but when you're a big girl you imagine they are. It takes a certain degree of strength to even shop for clothing in public when you're a larger girl. It would be much easier to hide behind the computer monitor and order your clothing online, sight unseen. But I refuse to be beaten so I suck it up and I take my walk of shame.

But not for much longer. Sunday  I purchased my first pair of size fourteen pants in nearly four years. In my particular store of choice (Maurices) the plus size clothing is from sizes 24 (incidently that was my size six months ago) to size 14. My size now. One more size down puts me at a 12 and THAT puts me in the front section of the store.

Yes. My walk of shame is almost over.

Reasons to Smile

Yesterday Amos and I had a counseling appointment. During the appointment there was some talk about divorce. Not about me wanting it, but about him being scared of it. We talked about it a bit more after we left. Not a lot. There was no fights or any harsh words of any kind. We discussed scenarios that would have to happen for me to leave.  The night went on. And then I slept.

I had dreams last night. Lots and lots of dreams. 

It was like my head was creating scenarios that would force me to divorce him. It was like reliving broken heart after broken heart after broken heart. Exhausting.

When I woke up I spent 10 minutes just laying there convincing myself that they were dreams... just dreams. He didn't actually do those things and I never said those things and my kids never saw those things.

I basically gave my pep talk. Reasons to smile.

I have a nice house.

I have warm clothes.

I have plenty of food.

Good food. This is my FAVORITE pie. I've made it a handful of times and I've had it made for me a handful of times and Sweet Heavenly Father... it's good. It's a Black Raspberry Cream pie and it is WONDERFUL. And as far as pies go, it's not THAT horrible for you. IF you schedule your meals carefully and show restraint, you can work this dessert into your supper. The recipe is here. My problem is that I don't show restraint. I MUST lick the bowl and spoon and I MUST have half a pie per sitting. So it's going to be a minute before I make another one of these bad boys.

My weight loss plateau is over. I've been bouncing around between 217-220 since the surgery and it was getting extremely discouraging. I'm now at a 214. This is how much I weighed when I got pregnant with Ruth meaning this is my lowest weight in nearly three years. I'm a size 16 which is, although still big, much better than a 24. It's a loss. And I'll take it. I made a personal goal for myself to be below 200 by Easter. I can do it. I KNOW it.

I'm not alone.

These are the flowers that were given to me by my sister-in-law when I was having a rough day last week.  It's easy for me to feel alone and lonely out here without my family and friends but this gesture was special to me and certainly a reason to smile.

I have a husband who loves me and thinks I'm worth fighting for.  Yeah, I know that some of you would argue that comment, but it's true.  We were talking about counseling last night and if we were going to continue. He's made no secret that he doesn't enjoy it (who would? I don't.) but he's also said "If you want me to stand in a bucket of ice water with a tuna fish on my head... I will." And he means it. He's taking his lead from me and will do anything I think is necessary to help our marriage.

I have my health.  Yeah okay, aside from the disgusting 84 pound blob of  extra weight that has taken up residence in my body, I'm healthy. I am 28 years old. I have my whole life ahead of me. And life is what I choose to make it.

And finally... My kids. My loves. My heartbeat.

My Artist.

She is perfect. She is smart. She is tiny. She is two. I adore her. I realize I am going to sound like a conceited mama, but I don't care. Everyone loves her. She is a charmer. Strangers stop just to urge a little grin out of her. She'll change someone's life one day. Just wait.

My Chunk.

He usually smells a little... off. He almost always gets his shirt dirty before I'm done putting it on him. He weighs about five pounds more than he should. And he, too, is perfect. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, and one stunning smile. He's so laid back and mellow. He coo's and goo's and giggles and he has his mama and daddy utterly enchanted.

My day will not be dictated by a few imaginary bad dreams. I have reasons to smile. And today, I will.



Daddy's Girl

I'm going to take a break from talking about Amos today.  Today I'm going to talk about my father.

I call my father "Daddy." It's common enough in the south, where I was raised, but referring to him as "Daddy" here  (not the South) raised a couple of eyebrows. I don't care. That's who he is. Daddy worked hard for everything we had. He was well known around town and to this day if you're out and about with my father, you're going to get more than a few "howdies" thrown your way.  One of the most common conversations you'll hear is this:

Random Person: Howdy! What do ya know good?
Daddy: Awe nothin much. What do you know?
Random Person: Nothin.. nothin..

And the conversation would take off from there. That was one of my favorite things to hear as a child.  Daddy is not only well known, he's well respected. 

He is a mechanic by trade. A GOOD one. I remember once as a child, 8 or 9 years old, Daddy had just started working for the local BP as their in house mechanic. It was a front page story in our local paper. I kid you not. There on the front page was a picture of my daddy... smiling like a fool.  Eventually Daddy wised up and realized that the business would go where he went. So he opened up his own shop and he kept it open until he retired about 5 years ago.

He is a business man by heart.  I can not tell you how many times I heard these phrases:

"Your pappy could sell dirt to a farmer!"

"That Daddy of yours could pawn off snow to an Eskimo!"

I once had a boy in high school come up to me and say "When I grow up I want to be just like your Daddy." 

Daddy's a smooth talker. He's a good ole boy. He's everyone's best friend and nobody's fool. His family is his heartbeat. He'd break his back for a dime if he thought one of his kids needed it. In fact, he has.

All this to say... I love my Daddy.  He's a hard man to live up to.

When I was about 16 years old Daddy went to the hospital. Again.  He was in and out of the hospital alot in those days. There was always something wrong with him. But this time he wasn't in our little town's rinky-dink hospital. He was taken to a much larger hospital in the state capitol.  He had been there for a while. It feels like weeks but it could have been only days. I honestly don't remember. Then one night I was being taken home by my sister. I asked when Daddy was coming home. That's when they told me.... he wasn't. He had cancer. The kind that kills. The kind that kills fast. This was in November. They told me that he wasn't expected to make it till Christmas. It was a massive malignant tumor on his pancreas. It had already spread to his liver, which is why he was so yellow. I later learned it was called "jaundice." They told me he was in alot of pain right now. They couldn't keep his pain levels under control and he was maxed out on morphine. Any more and it could be lethal.  They were going to try an operation the next day. The operation wouldn't save him. It would only extend his life... his suffering.  I was blown away. Stunned. I was 16 years old. SIXTEEN. I was way too young to lose my father. I wasn't done with him yet. And so when I got home, I went to bed and I prayed. It was a Tuesday night. I don't know why I remember that, but I do. I layed in bed for a while crying and praying and begging. One thought ran through my mind over and over...

"Jesus, you healed a blind man. You made a lame man walk. You raised people from the dead. You CAN heal my Daddy. Will you? Please? I'm not done with him yet. Please?"

Over and over and over... until this warmth spread over me. A physical warmth and a peace. Instantly I no longer had the desire to cry. I felt warm and safe. In my mind's eye I envisioned myself sitting on the knee of God. I didn't know how it was going to end but I knew it would be okay. And so I slept.

The next day was the longest day of my life. I had gone to school with a promise from my sister that as soon as they knew anything they would call the school. Finally, in French class, I heard an announcement over the PA.  They were calling me and my nephew, G , to the office. When I got to the office I saw my sister, G's mother, standing outside of it's glass walls waiting on us. My pace quickened and my eyes blurred... why was she here to deliver the news in person? It must be bad. Real bad.

But then I saw her smile. And the tears spilled from my eyes and I hugged her. Because I knew. And I was right. God had healed him. The tumor that yesterday was killing him had completely disappeared. No sign of it whatsoever. His color was normal. He was no longer on morphine. In fact, he was demanding to go home. However, Daddy's doctor was hearing none of it. He didn't believe in God, nor Jesus, nor miraculous healing. The doctor just couldn't explain it. He didn't believe it. They did everything but turn my daddy inside out looking for that tumor, and now... 12 years later... they're still coming up empty.

Do I think that every time we pray for healing that it will happen? No. God answers every prayer we pray.  And sometimes the answer is "No." I don't know why God healed my father. Maybe Daddy's healing was a testimony to someone. I don't know. But I am thankful nonetheless. Because I am a Daddy's Girl.

Freebie!

A lovely lady whose blog I recently started following just posted a lovely little freebie. Find her and her sweet deal here.  I already ordered mine!

No I'm not trying to scam you to sign up for anything. I will never knowingly lead you astray.

Hopefully I'll have some more later for you... I have another blog post up my sleeve, I just need the time to put it together! Why are you still reading this??? Go get your stuff!

Getting Around x3watch

I have had two visitors recently who reached my site by doing a google search for "getting around x3watch."  At least one of them roamed the site for quite some time. Sigh. If you reach my site by looking for a way to lie your way around an accountability program... I would urge you to read my story. Please. Don't do it. You have the accountability program there for a reason... someone, either yourself or a loved one, is hurt by your decision to look at porn. Take a step back. Re-evaluate it. It's not worth it. I promise.