The School of Hard Knocks

Sometimes I’m thick-headed.

Sometimes I have to be taught a lesson multiple times.

Those lessons can be painful.

Lessons like, “Get to know someone really well before deciding to marry them.”

Or, “Don’t have sex with someone you’re not married to.”

I think I’ve finally learned those lessons now.

I hope so.  They’ve come at a high price.

Emergency

Then I broke down the door.

She hadn’t show up to the party.  We were all waiting for her.

She’d had a terrible week.  The last few months weren’t the best, either.

No one else seemed concerned.

I asked one of her roommates for her key.  I drove to the house they were renting.

The door to her room was locked.

I tried to talk her into opening the door.  She refused.  She sounded distraught.

I thought I smelled blood.

I did what I had to.

Once I was in I saw them.  Ibuprofen tablets scattered around the room.

No blood.

I tried carrying her up the stairs.  I made it almost all the way up.  I wasn’t quite strong enough.

She got away from me.

I called my friends for help.

After what felt like an eternity they arrived.

So did the paramedics.

So did the Bishop.

The paramedics took her.

We went through her room.  We made sure there were no more pills stashed away.

We went to the Emergency Room to check on her.  She seemed much calmer and happier.

Eventually all the roommates moved out.

She moved away.

I heard she got married.  Then divorced.  Then married.

I hope she’s doing okay.

Rock Bottom

“Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”

– J.K. Rowling

I haven’t hit bottom. Not yet.

To be honest, I’m kind of looking forward to it.

I’m not looking forward to being divorced from my wife.

I’m not looking forward to living in my mom’s basement. (Sigh…)

I’m especially not looking forward to being separated from my boys

I’m looking forward to making progress. To getting myself on the right path. To really working toward achieving greatness. To being a good example for my boys.

With the help of a loving Heavenly Father I can do it.

With his help I can do anything.

The worst thing about divorce

It’s my boys I worry about.

I’ve never been divorced before.  Neither has my wife.  But we’ve both been though painful breakups before and come out okay.  We’ll both be okay this time, too.

My boys grow up in an intact home.  Now that’s not going to happen for them.

I worry how their parents’ divorce will affect their ability to have good marriages of their own.

I worry about not being around to protect them.  They’re not big enough to defend themselves against an adult.

I worry that if I’m not with them every day if will hurt our relationship.  Will we be as close as we are now?  Will we drift apart?

I worry about so many things.

Worrying won’t solve anything.  All I can do at this point is the best I can.

I just wish it was better.

Boom!

Last Thursday I blew up at my wife.

She was filing for divorce online and asking me questions.

I got irritated and eventually exploded.  I said a lot of hurtful things that I regret.

At one point I thought about killing myself.  I hadn’t thought about that for a long time.

Eventually I calmed down and apologized.

Later I realized I wasn’t as okay with the divorce as I had thought.

Part of me was still hoping she’d change her mind.

Divorce

My wife told me at the end of June that she wanted to separate.

This wasn’t the first time she’d said that.  This time was different, though.  This time she wouldn’t be talked out of it.

She felt like she couldn’t trust me anymore.

I’d lied to her about watching porn.  That was worse than the fact that I’d been watching porn.

Six months earlier I’d decided to come clean to her.  We’d been going through marriage counseling, and I started feeling a lot closer to her.

I knew my lies were getting in the way of us getting closer.

One night she confessed something to me.  So I confessed to her that I’d been lying.

At first she seemed ok.  By the time I came home from work the next day I could tell she wasn’t ok.

She went into a deep depression for several months.  I was worried, but I didn’t know what I could do.  Most of the things I tried to do were mistakes.

We went through cycles.  She’d let me know she wasn’t happy with me.  I’d work hard at being the best husband ever.  After a while I’d slack off.  I couldn’t stick with it.  She’d get upset again.

She was gentle when she told me.  More gentle than I expected.  I cried.  She comforted me.

I told her I was really going to change this time.  I meant it when I said it.

Eventually I got used to the idea.  She was going to divorce me no matter what I did.

I decided once we were divorced I’d change.  I’d become the best version of myself, and hope she’d like the new me.  Then maybe she’d want me back.

Later it sunk in that she was probably never going to take me back.

Now I’ve accepted it.  I’m ready to move on with my life.

I think…