Come to Jesus Moments...

I flew back to Washington after spending three days with my mom in Arizona.  Her visit was a time of sanctuary.  She treated me to nice dinners, took me shopping, listened to me cry.  It was wonderful, it was sad, it was peaceful. It was comforting.   Then reality hits and I had to fly home.

I arrived home on Wednesday evening.  I guess I forgot how cold it gets here.  We met my mom's step family for Thai food as well as my own daughter and her boyfriend.  I was soo happy to see my daughter.  As soon as I sat down though, it seemed the chaos of the holidays began.  My mom wouldn't hear of me staying in my own house the first night, so after dinner off we went to her house.

For me, the holidays have always been somewhat of a pain in the ass.  Ever since my parent's divorced, it was about dividing time between them.  I always said..."it doesn't matter what the day is, 'just find a day and we will celebrate".   I always said that.  Then this year, I lived it.  From the moment I stepped off that plane, I was overwhelmed with too much stimuli.  I'm used to being alone a lot, and after wrapping up three days with my mom and non-stop conversation, I was thrown into the fire with a lot of extra family around...it was a lot to handle.  I didn't realize how fragile I still was.  Still am.   I wanted to be alone in my house.  In my bed.  I needed space.

I've recently made friends with someone who had quickly become important in my life.  I believe, that sometimes, people are brought into our lives for a purpose.  This person, I believe was one of them.  I found myself attracted to this person in many ways.  They represented something to me.  Maybe it was hope.  At any rate, I, for some reason, asked this person to read my blog.  They were touched, they seemed to like it.  Then, I felt compelled to reveal more of my life, my story...thinking perhaps, that they would understand my hurt.  My sadness.  I wasn't completely truthful before I shared my story.  I was afraid of being truthful.  I felt the truth could be handled...later.  The past year and a half, I seem to always have a reason, an excuse for why I couldn't tell the truth.  Why certain lies had to be told.  I was protecting the people in my life from the truth.  I justified the falsehoods.

As I have tried to blog through this sadness, as I ran away, as I distorted the truth,  I realized I am a liar.  It took a virtual stranger to point it out to me.  My version of why my marriage failed painted me as the victim.  "Poor me," 'see what a bastard he was all those years?  See why you made some of the choices you did?'   I talked a lot about "owning up" to my mistakes.  My kids, just two weeks ago, accused me of not "owning up".  I publicly thought I had.  But I really did not.  I've been lying to myself for close to two years.  Maybe even longer.  The failure of my marriage is not his fault.  It is mine.  He can take his share of the blame when he is ready, maybe he has.  But I can only own mine.

This year for Christmas Eve my kids were going to be with their dad.  I was going to be with my brother, my parents and their spouses,  extended family, aunts, uncles and cousins.  I felt like I was prepared. It was just one day...I could do it.   I couldn't.  I didn't.

I woke up feeling out of sorts and with my neck in a kink.  I received an email that morning that was like a slap in the face. It was from that person who had come into my life so recently.  So briefly.   I had just gotten cleaned up and was going to sit down to write before I had to leave for my brother's.   As I began to read the email, my eyes began to well with tears.  this person had the audacity to tell me I was playing the victim of a well rehearsed role.  They called me a liar.  They said that the saddest part was that I would never grow and would continue to choose the same type of person, over and over in my life if I didn't get real with myself.  I wish I could quote some of the email, but after re-reading it six times, it was too painful, and I deleted it.

The fact that it was Christmas Eve, it wasn't possible to properly digest the contents and examine the words or the wisdom or truth or falseness of the email.  I had to go pick up my mother and drive to my brother's.   I needed quiet desperately.  The hour drive to my brother's was filled with my mom's frustrated venting about how much company she'd had and how exhausted she was.  Understandable.  I was not in the frame of mind to be very supportive.  She picked up on my quiet brooding, and asked me if I was okay.  I assured her I was fine, as I always am and continued to tune her chatter out.  I was also thinking of facing my extended family for the first time without my husband in 28 years.  Without my kids.

When I arrived at my brother's, an unexpected relative, (whom I struggle with because of her nosiness) was there along with my cousin and his wife.   I had tried to mentally prepare myself for the others that would be arriving, but had not prepared for this one.  I constructed a fence around me immediately and pasted a smile on my face.
I was able to hold off the inevitable questions for a few moments by busying myself with taking my things to my room and putting things away.  I really wanted to stay in my room and re-read the email again.  And again.  And again.  I must have been down there for longer than a few minutes as my brother in law came looking for me.  He asked me if I was okay.  I looked at him and started crying, no, I was not okay.  When the truth slaps you full in the face, it knocks the wind out of you.  You can't breathe.  I had no time to think.  No time to process.  I had to go upstairs and slay my dragon...also known as my aunt.

I poured myself a hefty glass of wine, took a gulp and a big breath and sat down where everyone was.  Immediately deflecting questions about my life.  God.  I really couldn't stand this woman.  I was trying to keep things generic, but with every question, I felt my eyes begin to tear.  I couldn't concentrate on what anyone was saying, all I could think was "Why did I think I could do this?"  I should never have poured that glass of wine.  Worst possible decision.  I hadn't ate much and it went to my head immediately and made everything worse.

Within a half an hour everyone had arrived.  The turmoil, the anxiety...it was building.  Everyone knew that my husband and I were in the middle of a divorce but it was like the elephant in the room.  No one was going to ask about it.  No one wanted to.  God knows I didn't want to.  But it was what no one said that made it even more difficult.  I had nothing to talk about.  I listened a lot.  It was uncomfortable for all of us.  I felt avoided.  Uncles who love my ex didn't know what to say to me.  I didn't know what to say...

My saving grace was my cousin's six month old baby.  I was able to hold her, rock her, feed her, sing Christmas carols to her...love her.  I needed her that night.  I didn't have to explain anything, I didn't have to avoid her eyes.  I just had to hold her.  It was my miracle of the night.  But alas, this was still early in the evening.  Eventually the baby's grandma came and took her from me and I was left to either sit there and let uncomfortable silence hang between me and the one aunt I was extremely close to, or find a way to escape.  I escaped...

I figured out early that night, that until I could get my emotions under control,  I wasn't able to talk to anyone without tearing up.  The self-centered Tam, was blowing every comment made, into super size proportions internally, making the evening about me.   The truth is, these people were my family.  They didn't know what to say to me.  Everything they did say, and it was all harmless... I was reading into.  It was my problem.  In retrospect now, I can see this.  That evening, I was too raw and vulnerable to see it.  I went back to my room to cry the rest of the night.  I needed to be alone.

After a bit, my mother came looking for me.  Worried.  I was trying to repair my face and thinking about trying again, but the alcohol and the overwhelming sadness of knowing what I was missing with my immediate family was in control.  My mom got stern with me by saying..."this is what you wanted, this is the consequences of your choices"...'yes mom, I know'...  It was not helpful.  I asked her to leave and let me be alone, but I know I hurt her feelings.  She had just spent 3 days with me, nurturing me, mothering me, and I rejected her.   She left, I gave up on my face and rolled over and after sending four "poor me" texts to my kids about how hard it was and how much I missed them, I fell asleep.

After a while, the noise upstairs subsided, people were leaving and the only ones left were my parents and my brother and brother in law.  I went back upstairs to apologize for my inability to cope with the evening.
Of course they were supportive.  They sympathized.  They told me it would get easier.  Gentle reprimanding.

The last several months have been a pity party for me.  I was able to justify why I left.  I never took responsibility for my actions.  It was easier to push the blame elsewhere.  I could have made different choices.  I didn't.  Now,  I am.   I think many people; my kids, my husband, my friends...all tried to understand, all tried to talk to me.  I couldn't hear them.  I could only hear myself and the justifications, the lies... I told myself.

The email as hurtful as it was, came from a virtual stranger.  The email slapped me with the truth.  I've always believed in the Biblical Proverb: "Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy will multiply kisses".  This was a someone I knew to be a new friend.  A friend that would speak the truth.  They had nothing to lose or gain by saying it.  I could have ignored the pain that it brought.  I could have brushed it off and said it was bullshit.  But if I'm trying to heal, trying to understand, trying to grow, trying not to repeat the mistakes of the past...I had to pay attention.  I didn't just take the words of a stranger and say "Wow...you are right...I'm a dumbshit..."  No, I sat down with my beloved brother and brother in law and asked them some hard questions.  I asked them to tell me what they saw.  Is that me?

"Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy will multiply kisses".   My brother...he had everything to lose by being honest.  If I wasn't ready to hear the truth, I would have been angry.  I was at the bottom on Christmas morning.  I wanted to climb up out of this hole of sadness and face the truth.  The truth sets you free.  The truth can be painful.  I left right after breakfast, drove the hour home and sat down to answer the email.

I cried through my response but thanked her for being honest.  Told her she was right.  Pride...my worst enemy.  It was a "Come to Jesus" moment.  Facing the truth helps me walk into the New Year with more hope.  People surprise you, they find grace.  In grace there is healing.  I think this person was a messenger, I was supposed to hear this message.  But damn...the timing really sucked.