Falling apart
What happens when your mom dies and you go through a divorce at the same time.....
After not telling my father anything about what was going on I asked him if I could ever move back home. He told me no. A few months later I told him all that was going on in my home. My dad is the best. He helped me attempt at making some changes in my marriage. After months of this I moved back into my parents house on Dec 9th many years ago.
I remember the date. I moved home and told my husband that I didn't want us to be over. I wanted to restart. That I knew I had changed the rules of our marriage. There were many things that I had been okay with that I no longer was willing to have happen. Because I wanted things different, I wanted us to try and start over. This was completely my intention when I moved back to my parents house that December day.
My mom had MS for a number of years. The last two years of her life she was on IV morphine for the pain and so had a port. In November the port went bad. My mom had to have it replaced and moved to the other side. In doing this surgery my mom got a staph infection. She was in and out of the hospital a couple of times in December. I was very grateful that I was home so that I could help with her care and be with her during this time. My husband was mad that I wasn't spending more time trying to fix our marriage.
Christmas was coming. My mom LOVED Christmas! I can not express to you how much she LOVED Christmas. She did not want to be in the hospital. She came home a few days before the holiday and was having a hard time because not everything had been done. My younger sister and I were getting up on Christmas Eve to go shopping and take care of things that needed to be done. My sister first ran her friend to the airport. Then she called me when she was going to be home.
I woke up about 8:30am got dressed and headed upstairs. My mom slept in a hospital bed in our family room. I went upstairs and she wasn't there but was around the corner in the bathroom. My dad was in the kitchen. In the next thirty minutes my mom would be gone.
It was so hard. I was numb. And I was devastated all at the same time. During the time between her death and her funeral we had such an outpouring of love from people around us. I was in awe.
I remember looking at my sister and saying "I can't believe so many people care about me." My sweet sister looked at me and told me that was the saddest thing she had ever heard. I was in an abusive marriage. My self worth was gone. I did not feel like I was lovable or worth the time and effort.
My husband did not show up for me in a way that was supportive during this time. I smiled and let him stand by my side during my mom's funeral. No one really knowing what was going on or that I had moved out. I put the mask on and smiled and comforted others.
A week later I asked for a divorce. Over the phone no less. I did not feel like it was something I could do in person.
I was broken.
I was sad.
I was shut down.
I would put on the mask and go to work.
I would answer the phone and put a chirpy, happy voice on.
NO ONE knew what was really going on with me or how bad it really was.
I remember driving down the road thinking, I wish I would just get in a car accident and it would be over. I wish my car would lose control in this rain storm.
My dad had given me six months to live at home. He knew that I needed to not stay put. That I needed to move on with my life.
At five months I moved to Salt Lake City. I had new friends, a new neighborhood, a new job, a new life.
I smiled
I joked
I played
I laughed
And then one day about three months after moving it all stopped.
I FELL APART!
I was home by myself. I had a bedroom back behind everyone else's. I was laying on my bed and I started to cry. Not a little cry. The big, scary, ugly crying that I could not stop. I could not hold it back. I cried and screamed and fell to pieces.
My cute roommate came home during my big ugly cry. It was not a pretty sight. But she sat by me. She sat WITH me. I was so far from okay. I didn't even know how to be okay. My mask was not serving me.
I had to take off my mask. I talked to my church leader and got help to go to a therapist. I started to figure out how to put myself back together. As I put myself back together I didn't make so many masks. I didn't keep them on as often.
After not telling my father anything about what was going on I asked him if I could ever move back home. He told me no. A few months later I told him all that was going on in my home. My dad is the best. He helped me attempt at making some changes in my marriage. After months of this I moved back into my parents house on Dec 9th many years ago.
I remember the date. I moved home and told my husband that I didn't want us to be over. I wanted to restart. That I knew I had changed the rules of our marriage. There were many things that I had been okay with that I no longer was willing to have happen. Because I wanted things different, I wanted us to try and start over. This was completely my intention when I moved back to my parents house that December day.
My mom had MS for a number of years. The last two years of her life she was on IV morphine for the pain and so had a port. In November the port went bad. My mom had to have it replaced and moved to the other side. In doing this surgery my mom got a staph infection. She was in and out of the hospital a couple of times in December. I was very grateful that I was home so that I could help with her care and be with her during this time. My husband was mad that I wasn't spending more time trying to fix our marriage.
Christmas was coming. My mom LOVED Christmas! I can not express to you how much she LOVED Christmas. She did not want to be in the hospital. She came home a few days before the holiday and was having a hard time because not everything had been done. My younger sister and I were getting up on Christmas Eve to go shopping and take care of things that needed to be done. My sister first ran her friend to the airport. Then she called me when she was going to be home.
I woke up about 8:30am got dressed and headed upstairs. My mom slept in a hospital bed in our family room. I went upstairs and she wasn't there but was around the corner in the bathroom. My dad was in the kitchen. In the next thirty minutes my mom would be gone.
It was so hard. I was numb. And I was devastated all at the same time. During the time between her death and her funeral we had such an outpouring of love from people around us. I was in awe.
I remember looking at my sister and saying "I can't believe so many people care about me." My sweet sister looked at me and told me that was the saddest thing she had ever heard. I was in an abusive marriage. My self worth was gone. I did not feel like I was lovable or worth the time and effort.
My husband did not show up for me in a way that was supportive during this time. I smiled and let him stand by my side during my mom's funeral. No one really knowing what was going on or that I had moved out. I put the mask on and smiled and comforted others.
A week later I asked for a divorce. Over the phone no less. I did not feel like it was something I could do in person.
I was broken.
I was sad.
I was shut down.
I would put on the mask and go to work.
I would answer the phone and put a chirpy, happy voice on.
NO ONE knew what was really going on with me or how bad it really was.
I remember driving down the road thinking, I wish I would just get in a car accident and it would be over. I wish my car would lose control in this rain storm.
My dad had given me six months to live at home. He knew that I needed to not stay put. That I needed to move on with my life.
At five months I moved to Salt Lake City. I had new friends, a new neighborhood, a new job, a new life.
I smiled
I joked
I played
I laughed
And then one day about three months after moving it all stopped.
I FELL APART!
I was home by myself. I had a bedroom back behind everyone else's. I was laying on my bed and I started to cry. Not a little cry. The big, scary, ugly crying that I could not stop. I could not hold it back. I cried and screamed and fell to pieces.
My cute roommate came home during my big ugly cry. It was not a pretty sight. But she sat by me. She sat WITH me. I was so far from okay. I didn't even know how to be okay. My mask was not serving me.
I had to take off my mask. I talked to my church leader and got help to go to a therapist. I started to figure out how to put myself back together. As I put myself back together I didn't make so many masks. I didn't keep them on as often.
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