Sometimes there just aren’t any words to describe how bad the pain of this betrayal is. To be honest, it doesn’t matter how much I have gone to counseling, or how much I have been in church. It doesn’t matter how much I have been around good friends and family. At the end of the day, I am still very much hurting.
It’s all I can do to get out of bed some mornings. I wish I could be more hopeful. But I write this post being 9 months out from my husband’s arrest. My therapist told me, this loaf of bread is fresh out of the oven and under the warmer. So these days, I hang on to every lifeline I can.
Yep, that means I am still nursing my 18-month-old (I know I need to stop but it’s comforting). I try to keep a steady exercise routine. Even if it is only 15 minutes every other day. I remind myself, my kids deserve the best I have to offer them. My four smiling boys are usually enough to motivate me to get my tail out of bed and strive for something more.
I have started reading the same book series as my husband. This gives us something more to talk about while he is in prison. Only 33 months left to go.
I still attend Sunday and Wednesday night church services with my boys. They love it. I have a women’s prayer group on Monday nights that I attend. I go to a marriage bible study led by a licensed counselor on Thursday nights.
I do all of these activities in addition to working, and believe it or not, this is a slow down in my life. I have always moved at the speed of light. Now everything seems to be crawling. I am just taking the time to invest into my life things that will help my marriage as well as help me raise my sons.
It’s no walk in the park. This is my reality. This is my normal, and this is how I am healing.