For me the stages are:
Shock/Denial,
Anger/Anxiety,
Hysterical/Dialogue,
Depression/Rock Bottom,
Acceptance/Empowerment.
I've been through the grief process many times in the last two years, since my 'big grief', it's getting easier to identify it and let myself feel all the emotions. All gazillion of them. Sometimes I can process them all in just one day.
My 'Big Grief' took 9 months. I didn't know I was "grieving".
November 2013-July 2014. I knew life as I'd known it and dreamt it was never to be the same again. It took me awhile to realize it as a loss, that I was grieving the death of the "perfect marriage" I always wanted.
Shock/Denial stage actually started November 2012, I found out my husband was seeing a young girl, so the whole process I guess was 1 year 9 months.
It's easy to forget or discount the denial stage because the emotions experienced during that stage don't feel like emotions: numbness and confusion, with a hint of fear.
I knew the girl, they were "friends" for several years. There had been previous incidents I ignored because I was living in denial to avoid the pain of an abusive relationship.
My husband "had" to tell me, three weeks after it happened, because they found out she had herpes and he was sorry he might have herpes. An apology for possible herpes. I didn't care about the herpes. (I don't have it and I won't say that word again!)
I needed an apology for betrayal. But I didn't get an apology for betrayal because it was my fault. He blames me and alcohol. No apology. Just blame.
How was it my fault? I wasn't a good enough wife, I didn't love him enough, I nagged him, I'm a horrible cook, etc, which forced him to go to bars after work and drink. He just happened to be drinking too much that night and just happened to run into her at the same bar… Yes, that was all my fault.
I have forgiven and moved on. This is just part of my story now. I am thankful it happened because in time it jolted me out of denial. It made me do something...
But for a year I was completely numb.
Anger/Anxiety stage exploded out of me November 2013, I found out they were still communicating. I had a gut feeling to check and I continued to find more evidence, pictures, receipts, etc. I became a professional detective. Always wanted to be an undercover detective!
Gut-wrenching fear, heart shattering pain, uncontrollable anger and an anxiety several xanax at a time could not calm. Within two months I'd lost too much weight. I couldn't eat, couldn't keep anything down when I tried, couldn't sleep, sometimes I couldn't breathe. I carried a paper bag around with me. It really works.
The anxiety was intensified by the mind games my husband and his "girl_space_friend" were playing with me, doing and saying things and posting pictures on purpose to make me think I was crazy and then discount everything I found, lies and excuses. But this crazy mom managed to continue to work and take care of our kids and house. I poured my heart out to God and leaned on Him for strength. I couldn't stand on my own. He had to carry me during this time.
Hysterical/Dialogue should come after depression, thats what the books say, but for me it comes after the anxiety. I think every grief process is different, just like every person is different.
February 2014, I was beyond hysterical and desperate. I knew I could not continue in the state I was in so I asked friends and family for help.
I shared my story. Dialogue.
This is a key part of getting through a grief process: share your story with people you can trust to love and accept and help you.
A good friend referred me to a crisis counsellor who recognized I was married to an addict who verbally and emotionally abused me. I couldn't stay in denial about that anymore.
She recommended a separation/ultimatum. That was Valentines weekend, 2014. Friday I left a letter, took the kids and stayed with my parents. Sunday evening I returned to talk, with our fathers present, and I fell for his bs again. "I had plans to take you to a hotel… I've missed you… I will do anything…"
I love get-aways to hotels so, to my parent's dismay, I went with him. Turns out it was a business trip so he was going anyways, it wasn't planned for me or our marriage. Also turns out he hadn't noticed the physical ramifications of the pain I was suffering the last two months. "You're getting too skinny… are you anorexic again… your hair is looking thin…" (no da it's my outside finally reflecting how much my inside is dying)
After that weekend I hysterically (I really like that word) did everything he wanted. I was willing to do anything to win him back and save our marriage. It's called bargaining. Bargaining is a part of the grief process. If I do this, maybe this will happen…
Depression has always been a struggle for me, it's in my genes, so throughout the denial, anxiety and hysteria I also felt sadness, low self-esteem and helplessness. I had so much shame built up. Shame is like guilt gone unchecked, it becomes you. It defines you. I believed I was not good enough and everything was my fault. I carried in me a fear and pain that consumed my thoughts and squeezed my heart. Those are the emotions of depression. What it feels like is trying to swim upstream, in a strong current, alone, and either sinking from exhaustion or hitting a rock every once in awhile, then fighting to resurface and continue swimming, upstream, exhausted, hurt, alone.
"Lord, I'm drowning in a sea of perplexity. Waves of confusion crash over me.
I'm too weak to shout for help. Either quiet the waves or lift me above them -
It's too late to learn to swim."
When I hit the Depression stage of grief I fell fast and far. It was all dark and blurry. Going to strip clubs was not helping our marriage and caused more shame.
The Pain was so great I took a stab at cutting myself. For the first time in my life. I found that Cutting relieved the pain I felt inside. Cutting relieves pressure from the inside to the outside. But it is a temporary fix. I do not recommend it. (I just learned that holding an ice cube in your palm has the same effect!)
I chose to cut my wrists. But not deep enough to bleed a lot and I used scar cream to speed up healing and minimize scarring, because it wasn't something I wanted anyone to know about. Just another thing my husband could accuse me of and call me crazy for. So. Much. Shame.
May 6th 2014, my 36th birthday, was my Rock Bottom.
I hit many rocks I thought were bottom before that night. I'm sure my friends and family thought, as did I, April 4th was rock bottom. I had to leave work because I couldn't move anymore. I couldn't function anymore. I couldn't talk. I had my husband take me to a good friend for help. She set me up with Providence behavioral health outpatient therapy starting Monday, April 7th. She told Tyler I needed to be alone at a hotel over the weekend and do nothing but sleep. Unfortunately I was like a rag doll and willingly went to strip clubs all weekend, with little sleep, because I was (hysterically) still doing whatever he wanted, hoping it would help our marriage. It sucked more life out of me.
Somewhere deep down I still had a spark of life. God was holding my heart together.
I went to therapy for four days. I met with a psychiatrist who prescribed medication. I went back to work the next week. I thought I was on the up.
But shame still consumed me. I continued to find evidence he was still doing things with her. They were still playing mind games with me to bring me down. They succeeded.
My birthday, May 6th, I got to choose where we went. Weak, codependent me chose somewhere I knew he wanted to go, so we could watch the Blazer game, eat and drink. (not something I enjoyed doing with my husband)
On the way there we stopped at the car dealership because he wanted to buy a new car for himself. After the game and some drinks, we went to a strip club, because he suggested it and I did not have the strength to say no. I didn't care. I was past caring anymore. I had lost all hope. But going to a strip club with someone you love and desperately trying to win his love, it kills a part of your heart to watch him watch other girls. That night it killed me… it was too much for my heart. It was my birthday for goodness sake! I fully believed I would never be enough to be loved. I went home and tried to take my life.
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| what it looks like now: the remaining scar, after lots of scar cream, is visible between the two needle punctures in this picture- a day last summer I gave blood and had my tb test done for school. |
I cried myself to sleep.
The next day I woke up with a new purpose.
Acceptance/Empowerment comes when there is no where else to go but up. I had to get up to get my kids ready for school. I had to get up to go to work. I had to get up. You know you've hit rock bottom when the only option is up. I got up because I know that I know that I know I AM LOVED and I do not want to hurt those who love me. God loves me, my kids love me, my parents love me, lots of family and friends love me. I can do this because I believe their love. One person's love, or lack of, was not going to bring me down again, at least not that far down again.
Love changes people. I found purpose in my life, accepted myself and all my weaknesses and scars and determined to make it right. It might not be what I had hoped for, it might not be better. In fact, it will be messy for awhile but I had faith it would be ok. Yes God, I trust you with my life. And because of your love I am brave, I am confident, I am alive.
The scar, literally wearing my emotions on my sleeves, exposed some truths. An image of perfection was more important to my husband than my feelings. He was mad I could not wear my summer clothes because people would see the big scar. But I wore my summer clothes. It didn't bother me because I wasn't living in denial anymore. I let go of my shame. No shame is a free life. My dad, a retired pastor, told me he doesn't like to recommend divorce, but he feared staying in my marriage would kill me.
In June 2014 I went to a lawyer to file for a divorce. I could not follow through with it, that time, but it was a step in the right direction. It empowered me and gave me a sense of security, hope and strength.
The divorce was finalized May, 2016.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13:13
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