What if it doesn't make you stronger?

When my son was about 3 months old, he got very very ill. He was struggling to breathe and his tempreture would not cool down, regardless of what we did.We rushed to the emergency unit, only to be told that they don't deal with infants - we had to take him to a hospital about 10 minutes away.

I wrapped my baby up and bundled him close to my chest and rocked him as I checked to see if he was still breathing...

We got there at 1:30am and the childrens ward was dark, but the nurses were friendly. They took him out of my arms, while my husband sorted out our medical aid at the front desk. Without it, they wouldn't take us in...they spent the next hour giving him medication and placed a mask on his face to help him breathe. My little boy cried and cried and I sat there next to his hospital crib and tried to be strong for us all...he finally fell asleep and I was faced with The Chair.

Old and made of hard pleather, the nurse said that I could sit there as I watched over my son. The first night, I didn't sleep. Covered with a scratchy blanket, my eyes trained on him- every sound and movement elliciting immediate action from me - I kept on thinking if I looked away that he would die. The 2nd night, my bones ached and emotionally I was drained to my core. A pervasive sadness spread through me, from my toes to my eyes. My son is sick and I can't help him. I sat and sat in that damn chair, to scared to even go to the bathroom. I was tired and alone and in despair in the dim light of the hospital ward.

And thats how I feel now. After the adrenaline of his polygraph last week and choosing to believe him, my heart has returned to its familiar rythym. The fight or flight response is no longer needed and I am weary to my core. I am alone in that chair again, praying for help. I am sick and tired of my questions and doubts. It weighs on me and I fear that I may never be, who I once was. Confident, assured and happy.

The other day, we lay entwined under blankets and he smiled at me - eyes shining and soft. My husband...my traitor. For a moment I forgot all that he had done and all that I have vowed to do...here was the man I first met. A far cry from the man, who would huddle so close to the edge of the bed at night he nearly fell off or got up in the middle of night to watch porn. I relaxed my aching shoulders, willing myself to just relax in the moment - of course all that happended was prickling of tear at the corner of my eye.

I feel stuck in that chair and I don't know how to get out.

I wish healing happened in a straight line...this back and forth is just another unwelcome intrusion in the life I thought I had... what if this doesn't make me stronger? What if it just breaks me?...

When truth plays hide and seek

Truth...what is the truth? Is it the truth that he loved me, but not enough to be faithful? Is it the truth that he loved himself more than he loved me and thats why he found it so easy to betray me...or maybe the truth is more heartbreakingly simple. Maybe he just didn't care...

The hardest part about trying to heal, is coming to grips with that the fact that two truths seemingly in conflict, can both exist - valid in its own right and yet discordant when placed next to each other.  Its true he betrayed me...its also true that he loves me. Its true that he cooks, cleans and pays the bills...its true that he never looked after my heart half as well. He loves me...he loves me not...he needs me...maybe not.

In my head I understand what went wrong - I understand how addiction wrapped itself around his heart like a boa constrictor until it finally squeezed the life out of him. I understand it all and yet I don't understand any of it - the questions of why keeps coming up. Its as if my heart refuses to understand, no matter how much I tell it to let it go...come on dear heart,  you read that article of porn addiction over and over again, it makes sense, so let it go....come on dear heart, his already said his sorry a million times, don't you believe him? Come on dear heart, I know you're hurting, but try one more time...just for me.Try to believe...

His porn addiction has robbed me of so much. It has stripped me of my joy and gave away my hard won peace, for not a nickel or dime. He allowed his fantasies to blur into reality and turned my world into a place of doubt, self loathing and insecurity. He took what was good about me and made a mockery of my beliefs...my belief in him...and my belief in myself. Maybe the truth is, I shouldn't have given him that much power...but how do you love someone and hold a part of you back? I don't know how to be self-protective and its killing me.  How do I become stronger, without becoming bitter.

Maybe the truth is, that some truths you don't need to know. If he had had one or two indiscretions and stopped it there - I didn't need to know and I would have been happy - happy but foolish for loving a man, who doesn't love me the same way, I loved him.

The truth is smoke and mirrors and I am tired from trying to understand. I am worn out by reality and heartbreak. I long for the eternal sunshine of spotless mind...

I live by simple truths these days. I love my son and he loves me. God is good all the time. I am on my own... and thats the truth.