What in the World is God up to?

The Trip Up the Mountain is Endless…

The past 19 months have been a climb of epic proportions.   The first 6 months were absolutely hellish; then there were about 2 good months, and then another hellish 5 months.  It has been varying ever since.  I reach a point where it seems I’ve turned a corner, or my husband and I together have turned a corner–only to run smack into a wall.  Strangely, the walls don’t get any softer, even after all this time of prayer, counseling, and 12-step help.

There is one HUGE plus that has been constant for the past 9 months and that is my therapist.  So, so glad God got me away from the “narcissist” therapist I saw for a while.  Unfortunately, there are quite a few narcissist in the field of counseling and you have to be careful who you spend time with, and that’s not easy when you’re already hurting and dealing with skewed perceptions.  Just beware of a therapist who likes to talk about themselves as much as they discuss your issues with you, or one that gets a little too combative if you disagree with some pronouncement they make.

I am in a women’s 12-step program now, too.  I am still very cautious about sharing much with the group, in part because I know at least one of the women shot her mouth off after one of our first meetings.  It’s been hard not to slap the crap out of her.

I’m hoping to get back to the place where I believe my husband loves me unconditionally (yes, I was actually there for about 2 weeks three months ago).  I’m doing better with believing God loves me unconditionally.

I will be 57 in a few weeks.  I feel old, but I am feeling better about where I am.



The Despair that had been my constant companion for 18 months is lifting….

I started posting here at a time when I was drowning in despair, heartache, pain, anger, doubt and hopelessness.  Somewhere along the way, those negatives began to lessen.  It was difficult to realize it at the time, but in the past two months even I can say, “yes, I can feel a difference in my life.”

That’s huge.  I still can get teary quite easily, but it’s almost always over how incredible God has been to us instead of how hopeless I felt that He would ever heal us.  God is amazing.  I don’t understand SO much of who He is and His plan, but the work He has done in my life and the blessings He has given us through the last 19 months have been awesome.

It helps that there are several people in my life that God uses to speak to me, but there is no confusion about who is doing the talking.  Still, those people who have been brought into my life are some of my favorite people.

My husband and I are finally in a healthy marriage…and it only took 35 years and a “catastrophe” to get there.

My top prayer is that my grandchildren will always know God loves them unconditionally,  and that they will love Him back.


The post-Christmas Blues

It’s almost inevitable–the blues show up after the Christmas celebration is over.  It showed up with a vengeance today.

I hate it, not just because it is ridiculous to be depressed after spending time with family and friends, but because I have tumbled back down the hill a good bit.  The heavy feeling of “God really is not very happy with you” is hanging over me.

I am 18 months into therapy, a year into a recovery group, 18 months into tons of prayer, yet have lost ground today. 

Work was a b*%^h this past week.  Year-end paperwork, discovering that the people I work for have not been doing something that they were supposed to do, and an audit in the works.  My brain is old–not sure how much more it can hold and process.

Finances here at home are still dicey and I wonder if God will ever let me feel “settled” about that again, or if I’m simply to easily lulled into complacency when my finances seem secure.

My grandkids are fantastic, though, and they bring me such incredible joy. 

It seems like it’s been forever since I talked to my therapist.  It’s not been a week yet, but the week has been big highs and big lows.  My mind is mentally and emotionally exhausted.

And it’s about to be a new year. 2014.  When did I get this old?

Merry Christmas….

It’s 10:55 p.m., December 24, 2013.  I’m still downstairs, which is unusual for me at this time of night.   It’s been a long day, too.  We’ve spent time with family and then made the 150 mile drive home to a house with not a single gift wrapped and the kitchen cluttered with all sorts of bags and sacks of fruit, avocados, and other grocery items.

We got home about 5:30 and planned to stay in the rest of the evening.  We had no plans for Christmas Eve with our kids.  We will all get together on December 26.  But dear friends called and asked us if we wanted to come over to their house, so we went.

We had a great time, ate a little, played a game, and laughed a lot.  They are precious friends.

After having a really great week last week, I was sailing along smoothly until we received word of a financial decision that we have to make ( a really unfair decision, in my opinion).  I hate financial hitches.   And then, while visiting with my elderly parents today, they received a call that the person who was coming in to be home help tomorrow was too sick to come.  My siblings that live in the same town will be over to see them, but they really can’t be left alone for very long.  So, my husband and I are about to leave to return to our home when my mom gets this call, and suddenly, there is the worry about what to do, and the guilt I feel about not living closer.

I have made some good progress in not being overwhelmed by things that upset me.   But, it’s Christmas time and money woes and elderly parent woes all add up to getting home and crying.

I still can’t figure out why, if God wants us to know Him better, He makes us go through these life gyrations on earth.  Laughing with good friends can take your mind off of uncomfortable issues for a while, but the litter that gets thrown on the side of the road in your life seems to be endless, even if there are stretches that are nearly litter-free.

There is still so much that is unfathomable.

Happy Birthday, Jesus.

I think we’ve truly turned a corner…

I’m almost afraid to say that out loud.  It’s been a long, painful at times, 18 months.

My husband is in a Christian recovery group, well, so am I, now.  He is doing really well, and he’s been given a chance to earn a living with a charity here in town by helping them raise money and keep track of everything they do.

We have been blessed with two granddaughters this year.  So incredibly blessed.  Our daughters were and are fantastic, wonderful children, and holding their children just multiplies the joy.

I can actually say that there have been some positive changes in the way I perceive life.  God has been good in sticking with me and returning me to a wonderful therapist that God has worked through to help me begin the process of forgiving and not hating myself.

I still wonder what’s ahead of me.  I’ll be 57 in two months.  I’d love to go to college and get a degree in counseling, but we don’t have the money for tuition or for me to work less hours, and I’m not so sure my brain is still agile enough to do the work it would take to get a degree.

When does a dream become just a selfish desire?  It has been difficult for me to believe it was okay for me to have dreams after all that has happened.

18 months ago, 12 months ago, I would never have believed we would be where we are now.  I am deeply grateful.  And my cup is filled to overflowing when I hold a grandbaby.

She’s finally here…and she’s absolutely precious

Granddaughter #4 finally put in her appearance on 11/12/13.  After being 2 weeks overdue, she still took 27 hours to show up.  Stubborn like her Momma—and beautiful like her Momma—and precious like her Momma and Daddy, cousins, aunt and uncle.

I am still in therapy.  I think there is some improvement, but I hesitate to say that because it is so SLOW.

I am taking a songwriting course.  It’s fascinating.  I’m not very good at it, but it’s been fun and has stretched my brain….and my patience.

God is good.


And we’re still waiting on Grandbaby #4…

My youngest daughter (she’s 30) is now 9 days past her due date.  Her doc said since she and the baby are fine, he will wait to induce until Monday.  I told her this was payback–she was 13 days overdue.  I’m not as nervous about it as I was last week; don’t really know why.

I have joined a face-to-face women’s support group.  It’s taken me a long time to do that.  I was involved with one online, but I used a fake name and no one had a clue who I really was.  Well, this blog is written under a fake name as well……..anyhoo, the women who are in the group have to agree to keep their flipping mouths shut and not talk about what is said in the group.

Now, I have NEVER trusted women, not even my best friends, because so many women–and I know this sounds sexist, but dammit, ladies, it’s true–can NOT keep a confidence.    Imagine my surprise when, three weeks in, I discover by accident that one of the women has blabbed to her husband about things that were mentioned in our group.  As ironic as it seems, I really was surprised and quite Pissed Off.  So that’s another thing I’ve had to discuss with my therapist.

One of the women in the group has kinda singled me out to befriend, but I’m not sure if she truly likes me or if she thinks I am a path back into her ex’s life because he is a friend of my husband’s.   Still mulling that over, but I think I will find out quickly because I am not going to say a word about him.  I will listen when she needs me to, but I will not speak of him.  If she asks, I will be honest and tell her that trying to finagle a man back into your life that has left you is not a good way to treat yourself.

My husband is doing really well.  His recovery has been more of a steady spiral up than mine.  I still can’t get through a visit with my therapist without crying at some point.  The weird thing is that I have not cried in the women’s group, but I know why that is–I haven’t told them anything specific that makes me feel vulnerable.  Wonder if I ever will?  Probably not as long as the blabbermouth is in the group.

Ladies, if you’ve committed to keeping a secret, KEEP IT!  Or pay a therapist and tell them.  If they talk about it, they lose their license and their income.

And stay away from narcissistic therapists.  I can’t say that enough.


Wowser…life is a wild ride

It’s been nearly two weeks since I last posted anything here…it seems like eons ago.

My youngest daughter (she’s a grown woman, but still my baby) is one day past due with her first baby.  I’m a bit nervous about it.  It’s difficult  when your baby is having a baby.  She’s the kid who said she would never have kids.  Of course, she’s the one who thought she’d never get married, and she’s the one who, when she first met her eventual husband, would have said she’d never marry him.

But still, she’s my baby, so I’m on edge.

I have joined a women’s recovery group, which I said I’d never do.  Three weeks in, one of the women in the group broke the rule of confidentiality and told her husband something that had been said in the group.  He promptly went to the guy that was mentioned and told him what his wife had told him.  Jerks.  Sorry, I know that’s ugly, but dang it, that has created some nasty fallout for several people, and caused me to decide I won’t be sharing anything very personal if this woman is still in the group.  Sharing some of the crap in my life is why I joined the group.

Still seeing my original therapist; he’s very good.  My “fiasco” therapist is a narcissist.  He would tell you he’s a borderline, but I think he uses that line just to rope in borderlines because he feeds off their need for his affirmation.  Be careful when you chose a therapist; unfortunately, many narcissists get into the field because it feeds their ego.

My husband and I are doing pretty well.

I’m still in the middle of figuring out my theology.

I just wish this grandbaby would show.


Am I Still Hormonal?

I am 56 years old–should really be past the mega-mood swings of hormones (shouldn’t I ?).  But I find that I can lay aside my resentments and hurts from the past some weeks, and then a day will come along when the anger and the urge to make somebody pay comes roaring back.

Today, it’s my “fiasco” therapist.  The more I read about narcissists, the more I’m convinced that he is too much of one to be working in counseling.  I had that feeling before I quit seeing him; the last four or five times I saw him alone, I prayed that God would keep the guy’s ego in check.

I have the strongest feeling that he’s going to really do some damage to someone who goes to him for therapy.  And that makes me mad; I know the pain he caused me before I left.  So I want to put him in his place.

But that’s not for me to do.  That’s God’s business, and even as I write that, I shudder.  Because I know what can happen when God allows a wake-up call, and it ain’t pretty in so many ways.  I think about the damage a really loud wake-up call could do to his family.  I know what the fallout can be and how long it can last; do I really wish that on his family?

I wish God would just tap me on the  shoulder and say, “I’m going to take all of that past pain away so it will stop ambushing you and stirring up your wish for revenge.”  I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.

Dang, I’m tired of this.

Nicks, Cuts, Scrapes, Bruises and Burns…

You know, a body can take some big hits physically and, if properly attended to, can recover to 100% in many instances.  Sometimes, it can recover even without the professional attention.

The spirit, as well, can come back from some heavy blows, albeit more slowly, I believe, than the body does.  And I think it doesn’t do well without some professional help, and even then, God forbid if you pick the wrong professional.  The wounds to the spirit that are not taken care of in the proper way seem to just multiply into more damage.

The body can receive so many nicks, cuts, scrapes, bruises and burns that it experiences so much localized pain and an overall feeling of great discomfort that the person that inhabits that body just wants to stay immobile in a comfortable position, or, if possible, sleep as much as possible.

A spirit that has taken heavy hits over the course of a lifetime, without having help recover, struggles a great deal to function in this life.  One that enters a span of time where there are nicks, cuts, scrapes, bruises and burns nearly every day on top of the old hits is a spirit that starts to hold less and less tightly to the buoy of hope.  It’s not even a matter of not being able to hold on—it becomes a matter of not wanting to hold on.

People will tell you God will not give you more than you are able to bear, but that is not scripturally accurate.  That was said in relation to temptation.

I have no dreams or desires anymore.  I don’t feel entitled, and if I don’t dream of anything better, then I can’t be disappointed.

There’s not a place in my spirit that has not had some kind of injury inflicted upon it.  So while I will not leave this life by my own hand because I love my grandkids too much to give them that to deal with, I don’t think what I’m doing most of the day anymore is living.  It is just surviving.

Is this the abundant life?