It has been a year...

It has been a year since I last wrote a blog post. I don't quite know how that happens. I like writing, which is probably silly since I pretty much suck at it. I am the queen of spelling and grammar errors, just now I tried 3 times to spell grammar before I just gave in and used spell check. To bad spell check doesn't check for the spelling of the word you meant to use instead of the word you used and spelled correctly.

Now, days later I come back and I know just how it happened... you see I wrote this one blog post. It was picked up by news outlets and shared... it was viewed over 3,000 times... What was private turmoil was put on the worlds stage...

So today's decision, is I am going to make a point to do better at this. I am going to share the personal thoughts because it is good for me. I am going to share, because maybe I will say something that helps someone else. If no one ever reads this post, than that is fine too, but I am going to let what is rattling around in my head out. Know this, I write for me. This post is going to lay some stuff out there, that is very personal, it may even open up the door for others to point fingers and be critical, but I am going to write it anyway, because I don't know what else to do with it.

I went through one of the many boxes of "stuff" that had been packed away in storage... I read a letter that I found to my oldest son. As a good a portion of it pertained to him, I asked him what he thought I should do with the letter. He said to throw it away and so I did. His remarks about the letter, which I will keep between us, took me off guard.

The next day my husband and I were watching YouTube together, our attention was caught by a video title so we watched it... I don't know what either of us had expected, but it wasn't that. So that night we watched it with our children and had a family discussion about it.

You see, I keep trying, and I don't know why. I keep trying facilitate a relationship for my children and their Father... 

I made the decision to leave their Father when I saw the hurt he had caused them, it was one thing for him to hurt me, it was something else all together for him to hurt them... and then our family conversation the other day... "How did you learn to treat each other they way that you do?" We asked of each kid." "It is how my dad treated my mom," one replied. "It is the way my dad treated me," said another. My heart sank.  I had always said staying for the kids was never the right reason to stay and my choice to stay may have caused more damage than the hurt I watched them suffer the winter of 2016.

I know why I stayed... If you hear something long enough, it can become your truth. No one else would put up with me. No one else could love me like him. He promised he would never do it again... I said for better or worse, I had made a commitment, I swore before God and our families this was forever. Love is a choice because sometimes you just are not going to feel it. This isn't him, this is his mental illness. I pushed him away. This was my fault. This was just me having a PTSD moment. I didn't take an interest in the things he took an interest in. I couldn't afford to provide for the kids on my own. FEAR.

I have been asked on a number of occasions if I thought that my ex would hurt the kids or me. I was asked if I wanted to have a restraining order in place. When he was trying to get out of jail I was asked so many times what I wanted. Decisions like that should not be left up to someone who is in the midst of an abusive relationship. Why didn't I say something? Why didn't I ask for help? How could I?

In the middle of an argument one day, I had been backed into the bathroom, all I could think was I wanted to escape. There on the shelf next to me was a knitting needle and right then I knew how I could end it. I didn't though, why? Because stabbing him with a knitting needle would cost my children both parents.

I woke up early one morning and he was having his way with me. I fought him off, and he left for work. That night he told me that on his way to work he almost committed suicide. It was my fault, because how it made him feel that I said no and struggled to push him away. So the next time I woke up in the same situation, I just laid there. I would not be the reason he killed himself.

When he was in jail I was told how bad things were. He wasn't getting appropriate medical care. There were gang members trying to hurt him. He was having seizures. If I didn't get him out of jail he was going to die there. What kind of a horrid person would leave someone in that situation?

I often wonder now what was real and what was manipulation. I look back to through the years and I don't regret them. I wouldn't have my children without them. I am a stronger person, stronger then I ever knew. I wish I had ended it all sooner.

As we ended our family conversation the other day I sat with my oldest, after everyone else had left. I apologized to him. He replied, "We will be ok." "If you had left sooner you would not have been the person we needed you to be. It would have been bad."

...My kids call someone else dad now. Someone who has stepped in to that role with his whole heart. So why the conundrum? Why do I keep trying? How do I stop? 

I still don't have the answer to how I could have said something, asked for help, ended the abuse. In the end I suppose what matters is that it ended. I will forever be grateful for the man who found me and gave me the courage to do something different.

Where do I go from here? What do I do? I forgive and ask for forgiveness. I move on. I am asked somewhat regularly what if any news is there regarding the charges my ex faces. I still don't know what will come of that, maybe nothing. This is me letting go of all of that. The future is bright and the possibilities are limitless.