Jun 20 2012
If you don’t typically read my blog you might want to start at the beginning of this story…Diamond 1. It will not make sense to you if you don’t.
My parents were out of town when the boys and I moved our things into their basement. They had helped move quite a few things before they left to go see my brother, but we still had some things like bedding and clothes to move in. I was exhausted. Most of the elder’s quorum had showed up to help and it was a major ordeal. We moved everything into two storage units. I remember lying in bed that night and thinking, “I forgot how it feels to climb into bed and feel safe.” I realized I had been missing the spirit from my life and my home. Oh, how I missed it. My parent’s home was a place of refuge for me. I no longer felt fear every time the phone rang or someone knocked on the door. The house was gone and with that came so much peace. I was able to pay off quite a few bills with the small amount of money we received from our house, but I had to pay for Jared’s medical care. It seemed every day there was a new bill. I called their billing department and talked to them about our hardships and asked if there was anything we could work out. They were able to help out with a few of the bills which was a great relief to me. I was amazed that, with everything going on, I was able to feel as much peace as I did. One day, while I was in the back room at work, a co-worker approached me and said, “I don’t know what it is, but there is something about you that I’m drawn to lately.” I made some smart remark about my “magnetism” but I knew what she meant. I was surrounded by angels. I could feel them watching over me. I knew, without Heavenly help, I may have made some terrible choices during those hard times. I took comfort in knowing I was being looked after.
After 3 months of intense chemotherapy Jared was told he was in remission. It was a relief, but I knew it meant we would now have to face a lot of tough decisions. Jared wanted everything to go back to the way it was, but every time I considered the possibility of going back I felt sick. I told him if he wanted to move forward he would have to come clean and tell me everything. He told me I was living in the past and we should just move on from there. He refused to tell me what had actually happened. I told him I couldn’t trust him until he was willing to tell me the whole truth. So here’s how that worked out. I still don’t know what really happened to the cars. I don’t know what happened to all the lost house payments. I don’t know how he paid for his trip to Chicago or why he went (because we know it wasn’t a business trip). I don’t know where he gambled or how much he actually lost. I don’t know the “friend” he worked for or how long he worked for him. I don’t know if he ever actually worked for a power company. I don’t know if the “Western Union Fiasco” ever actually happened. I don’t know if he ever finished his addiction recovery classes. I don’t know how much money he actually borrowed from our family and friends. I don’t know the truth about anything that happened in the last four years of our marriage.
I decided I needed to go back to school. I didn’t want to spend another minute of my life feeling the desperation I had felt the last few years, but the thought was so overwhelming to me that I nearly had a seizure every time I got online to check it out. Luckily, I had a good friend attending Weber State who offered to show me around. Without a friend to help show me the way I’d have never made it back that first semester. I was 34 years old and I hadn’t been a student for 14 years. It took forever to get everything in order. I had to transfer credits from the Junior College I had attended fourteen years earlier, which was no easy task. I applied for and received financial aid. Two weeks before the spring 2010 semester started I was finally able to register for my classes. Jared was angry with me for registering for school. I think he was afraid of what my going back to school meant. I was scared too.
The Year 2010
Every night I would get the boys in bed and I would plead with my Heavenly Father for answers and direction. Night after night I would read my scriptures and then I would kneel down and pray. One night I was on the floor next to my bed. I was sobbing and asking what I should do. I could not make this decision on my own. Once again, I heard a voice from inside me. “I cannot tell you what to do, but you can still be happy after divorce.” I remember thinking, “I can’t make this decision on my own. You have to tell me what to do.” I felt no comfort until I sat for a minute and thought about the rest of the message I’d heard. “You can still be happy after divorce.” I knew I wasn’t happy, and I knew I could not be happy if I was the only one willing to try. I made the decision to get a divorce and prayed again like I’ve never prayed before. I felt extremely calm about the decision I had made. I suddenly had peace. It still wasn’t easy going through with it. Jared was hurt and angry, and he dealt with his feelings by blaming me for everything. He would yell at me and tell me that I wasn’t forgiving enough and the divorce was my fault. The more he raged and yelled, the more desperate I was to get away. People kept asking if I was making the right decision. I knew I was, and this time I wouldn’t let anyone influence what I knew was right for me.
The process of going through a divorce is a wretched one. Aside from the broken hearts and bruised egos, the ripping in two of a life shared is excruciating. Sitting around dividing up photographs and C.D’s, cookware and camping gear, you can’t help but feel as though you’re losing half of your life. I’m not even going to mention the agony you go through worrying about what this is going to do to your kids. But, when all is said and done, if you’ve paid attention, you may have found you’ve learned a few things.