Today on the blog I’m writing something of a sequel to the previous blog about Finding Balance/Saying No. You may have noticed that this blog post, although published a couple of weeks after the previous one, is still published in a shorter time frame than the month I’ve had between blog posts lately.
I’m trying to take my own advice seriously–I’m even having a little success at it! Hooray! Soon I’ll probably catch up with all the little things (and some not-so-little things) that fell by the wayside while I was trying to learn how to find a new balance. There will definitely be a new chapter of Lady of Weeds in next week’s newsletter (and two proper newsletters per month again).
That said, on with this week’s blog! It’s again a more personal blog, so if you’re here for writing stuff or book stuff, you might want to skip it and wait for next week’s blog instead.
If there’s anything I’ve learned over the last year, it’s that our minds can play very weird tricks on us. My mind, in particular, can play tricks on me. Unfortunately, it tends to take a long time before I realise those tricks for what they are–much less how to deal with them.
The first time I understood that was the day I realised that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself that I just needed to forgive my husband and try to be a better wife, he would always be abusive again the next time. It was nothing to do with me. I couldn’t change it, I couldn’t stop it. It would happen again, and again, and again. I’d let myself get into the train of thought that if I could somehow be a good enough Christian, or a good enough wife, he would change.
It gave me the strength to stand up to the verbal abuse next time, and lay down ultimatums.
The next time I understood the treachery of my own mind was when I found myself feeling sorry for my ex-husband because he had to get a job now that we were separated and I was no longer financially supporting him. I actually felt sorry for him having to go to all that awful trouble–remorse leadening me as if I was the worst person in the world for causing him that trouble.
And that day, it struck me, suddenly and shockingly, that I was feeling sorry for him having to do a normal thing that every other human has to do. I’d been so tied up with his thoughts, his feelings, his anger and his demands, and for so long, that I’d gotten out of the habit of thinking of any other consideration other than what he would like, what wouldn’t make him angry–what would help me to survive another day or week before he blew up again.
It really shocked me to find myself thinking that. I’d already begun, through the process of separation from him, to find how he’d wormed his way into my head and thoughts, but that was the final straw that freed me from any guilt that I might still have felt about being kicked out–of being not a good enough wife to keep my husband’s love and care.
The latest occasion was much more recently. I’ve struggled with rosacea for roughly the last two years, from a combination of stress, diet, and allergic reactions, and lately I’ve had not just the time but the money to go to a doctor about it. That led to me getting medications that have slowly begun to help control the problem. I was two weeks into the medication when I began to see a change; a lessening of the red bumps on my face, and a more even skin tone.
It was also two weeks in when I began to find myself getting anxious. I couldn’t understand why I was struggling with anxiety again. I’d begun to heal slowly over the past six or seven months separated from my husband, after the first horrible weeks, and in general I’d been much less anxious and stressed.
I didn’t understand the resurgence of anxiety until I found myself wondering one day, if it was okay for me to be getting better. My brain was actually wondering if it was okay to use medication to get better from a sickness I had struggled with for years. Through a combination of my husband’s manipulation and selfishness, and the way that behaviour had eventually helped warped my mind, I had come to a place where I somehow believed it wasn’t okay for me to be healthy, or happy, or even safe.
My own mind had turned on itself.
I know I’m not the only one out there who struggles with this frame of mind, so I wanted to broadcast it to all you guys out there as a reminder: It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to be healthy. It’s okay to want to be safe. You don’t have to live your life sick, or in pain, or in a dangerous situation. You can’t change the world, or another person, or sickness in your body. That’s up to God, and medical science. Things like medicine are there for you to live the best life you can live. It’s okay for you to look after yourself. It’s okay for you to want to do that, no matter what anyone tries to tell you. No matter what your own mind tries to tell you.
Don’t do what I did. Don’t bring yourself to the point of a mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. It’s okay.
*bear hugs* my friend!
This post is so well-written and SO NEEDED. While our situations are different, I’ve struggled with anxiety for a long time now, as well as other health problems (some of which will never go away). But it has certainly taken a toll on how I view myself.
Thank you for your courage in sharing more of your story. It is a good rallying call for me to take those Thoughts that have been haunting me and tell them to go to—well, Hades.
Praying for you as you settle further into your new, Redeemed life. I’m so glad you don’t have to live under the fear of another person’s sin anymore. ❤️
To quote the movie Tangled: “Go, live your dreams!” (As long as they are good dreams lol and don’t include man-eating beavers XD)
Thanks so much, Beka =) I was really unsure about whether to write it or not, so I’m glad it was helpful to you! Anxiety is a beast, and works its way out for different reasons and in different ways; but a few things about it seem to be the same in most cases.
And as Tangled also says– “Not your dream. Your dream stinks.” 😀
I’m sorry to hear about your struggles. It sounds like you have done quite a bit to advocate for yourself. I’m glad that you sound like you are on a better path now.
I want to suggest two things:
In moments of weakness/guilt etc regarding your ex husband, I recommend playing the song “Miss Me More” by Kelsea Ballerini.
For writing inspiration, to remind you again that your best writing comes from your imperfections, the depth of your problems, and the loftiest of your dreams, that all of these problems are just more grist for the mill: I recommend the non fiction book “Bird by bird” by Anne Lamott.
Thank you, Wendi =) I’m only just learning to advocate for myself–and when I should step back. It’s a big learning process for me. I’m definitely doing better these days; God is very good to me, and I’ve been learning a lot.
I’ve never had trouble with inspiration and writing, fortunately; it was one of the things that kept me going, and the ‘grist for the mill’ thing has always stayed with me, making me thankful for even the dreadful things in life.
Thank you for the recommendations!
I’m not sure that any of us ever perfect advocating for ourselves. Most people may over advocate for their interests, or under advocate. Part of being in a difficult relationship like that is that you can get used to making yourself (and what you need) small, to keep the peace.
I have just started reading a biography of C.S. Lewis’s wife and how they came to meet each other. It turns out that her first husband was abusive. There is a quote from her writing in the book: “And this is wisdom in a weary land; ask nothing, shut your teeth upon your need, “SELVA OSCURA,” JOY DAVIDMAN”. It is this image of shutting your teeth upon your needs that speaks to me of the same problem. How many women quietly suffer in the world in this way, I wonder? I am impressed with your courage to speak openly about your own struggles.
Your writing is wonderful, so happy and fun. I always enjoy reading it. I wish you only the best.
That quote hits far too close to home ‘:-) It was exactly what I found myself doing; shutting my lips on everything that would offend or upset (my needs amongst them), and even refraining from the things I should have said.
Thank you for your lovely words! <3
You have so beautifully and humbly laid bare your soul for us to see. Thank you for sharing your journey with us. I pray that writing about it is cathartic, and lessens your anxiety.
I have watched my daughter traverse that same road, praying daily that she finds her own worth and balance…..leaving behind the guilt of perceived responsibility for being verbally and emotionally abused…… and that the failure of her marriage was somehow her fault.
I fell in love with your writing with the first book of yours I read; ‘Spindle’. Yours is a God-given gift.
Thank you for sharing that, as well. I’m so glad you are shaking off the dust of the past. God bless….and remember, ‘His yoke is easy and His burden is light.’
Thank you, Frances! I actually felt that I’d expressed myself poorly, and without the kind of clarity that I was hoping for, so that’s a relief =) I’m so sorry to hear about your daughter: it’s a hard path, and its one where your own mind fights you at every step. It’s good for your daughter that she has you–my own family has been the biggest blessing!
I’m so glad that you’ve enjoyed my books! They’re a joy for me to write, and I’ve always hoped that they could be a joy to read. I enjoy hope in dark places in my fiction, so that’s the sort of thing I write; it’s cathartic for me, and hopefully fun for everyone else =)
I find your books incredibly sensitive and astute to the “betrayals of the mind” – especially Poly’s story. I’m sorry you learned of it (partially?) through this experience. Reading your stories is a balm – knowing someone else knows that we are all untrustworthy narrators in our own stories, sometimes to our own detriment, sometimes to others’ and often both. It’s always helpful for me to remember God is the main character in this story – I am a side character, and God’s narration is the important, trustworthy one.
Thank you, Colleen =) My sister actually mentioned that as she read my latest books, she could see a few things coming through the writing. It’s one of the reasons I’m so grateful to have my writing–it gives me a way to work through things, even when I don’t realise I’m doing it.
And yes–it’s God who is the important, trustworthy one. It’s another thing I’m hugely grateful for =) And it was one of the things I was regretful about with this blog post–I felt I didn’t manage to draw in enough how God and how present God has been for me during this.