I feel like I give my husband so much empathy and understanding yet it is never enough for him to feel anything in return for me. Last Sunday morning I sat face-to-face with him as he told me his biggest "secret" - Jay was raped at 9 years old by a male friend. The unveiling of that secret created the light bulb moment I had long been waiting for, and everything started to make sense. I understood instantly that it was that very experience that triggered all the bad self destructive behavior for over 35 years. Things that I "had a feeling about" actually had backing. Like the homosexual tendencies Jay so often showed but of course I could never ask him directly about. I often went through his phone while Jay was unaware or in the shower. Bad habit, I know. But with his history of cheating it became a regular thing. He always told me that I was buggin' and I was tired of "buggin". I knew I wasn't crazy. I saw things. Things that made it obvious that Jay wasn't ever faithful to me. Ever.
Back to the looking at his phone thing - I got the clear picture that something was up with Jay and his gay best friend. Because they used code words in their conversation I couldn't figure out what they extent of their relationship was but I knew it was more than just a friendship. I told him that I knew he was having an inappropriate relationship with Germaine and that he is either bisexual or gay. When are you going to give me my gift? and the response from Germaine was, "We have to make time." Clearly not a conversation two straight men would be having. His response to my accusation? He told me that I was disrespectful. That my imagination was bigger than my brain and I had no idea who he is. This cycle of being gaslighted was not new. Jay did this from day one. I was just dumb enough to think that by being a good woman I would secure a spot and title in his life. Didn't I learn from what I went through in the past? I didn't. That's why I'm married today.
I knew that Jay could no be solely heterosexual if, at all. He always just "knew" who was gay, you know? He had a very on-point "gaydar". Yet he had an unreasonably unhealthy anger towards Homosexuals. It wasn't just the average homophobia either. People even hinted it to me. At one point in time, his cousin wrote me a letter from jail telling me that when J was incarcerated that he had relations with men, and that I needed to get tested. I was humiliated by all of this yet the gas lighting persisted. He made me out to be crazy. As if all of this was all in my head and everyone was wrong about him. Apparently I should know better.
I know the devil is looking on at my pain and is trying to arouse my emotions, but that's why I'm writing this post. I need to come to terms with reality Although I now know his big secret, I struggle with the back and forth feeling of wondering if: I fell in love with a fraud. Of course, when we had that conversation Sunday I told my husband that nothing he says to me could make me love him any less. But clearly we live on a one way street. Always have. And so it's starting to affect me but I'm not supposed to talk about it openly. I don't have medical insurance and it suffices to say that I resent Jay because he can't provide for me. But I can't say express that. I can't admit it, I can't be mad about it because everything I feel robbed of and speak over is going to discourage him. It's all about him and his purpose. This Christianity thing requires strength and faith. It requires readiness and the ability to see past one's self. To tell you the truth, I struggle with that at times. I struggle with feeling like I've been robbed of real, true love. I feel like my marriage benefits no one but my husband because he has a full-time covering on account of me. When I'm down and unable to do things I'm falling short of my marital duties. When I feel sick but whatever I'm going through is not diagnosed that means the pain is not real. At least it's not real to him. When my chest hurts and my the arms are radiating with pain but our children won't leave me alone I clench my teeth through my pain and I mother my children. But let me leave the dishes unwashed, or one of the kids just plant their toys on the ground, I'm the worst wife ever.
Why am I bad? or lazy? Why is the inactivity defined as the spirit of laziness or procrastination? Why can't it be what it really is? I can't get up because my body hurts I'm tired. I'm just straight up tired. I've internalized so much trauma from the pain of my relationship that it has manifested itself into pain. No - that's the devil tricking me, right? Because if you want to be real about it all of these happenings could have made me spiral out of control and I could have been a drug addict, alcoholic, or anything else. None of it has EVER been normal. But I'm supposed to be seeking Jesus and he is already working on resolving all of this pain. Or I should forgive and forget. Something along those lines. Nevermind what you did to me to completely obstruct the peace in my life, but I now have Jesus!!
But I'm not new to this kind of stuff. I've been experiencing this bad hand for years. It's all so messy and the more I think about it, the more I feel like I've been given this hand because somehow I can handle it. I didn't lose my mind, and maybe God thinks I need another dose so I can lose it all. This is what it sounds like when you debate with Satan.
8:32 A.M. - 12/20/2019