My Pain

I started blogging because I was heart broken. My husband, he was a part of my existence, from the moment I married him it was hard, but I had this hope that things would get better and that the life I hoped for was just around the corner. He betrayed me, got another girl pregnant, he was shipped off to Tonga by his family. Before he left I flew to California with my son Koli. I clung to my husband, I wanted so badly to believe that it was all a mistake, that he really did love me, that the other girl wasn't who he really loved. I clung and then he left. For nine months I sacrificed my time and money to get him a visa to come home. His family had brought him here illegally I fought to bring him back legally, I fought because I hoped. When he got back I remember sitting out in front of the little apartment that we first rented, writing in my journal that I could see ten years down the road that he wasn't going to change but I just couldn't let it go, I couldn't give up. I wanted my daughter and son to have a father I wanted my family to be whole I FED off of hope. I cried tears of painful hope every night as I poured out my heart to God. All the while a part of me knew somehow that somehow in the end I would have to divorce him, or that he would betray me. Somehow part of me really wanted him to end it. Part of it was pride, I didn't want my kids to blame me for not trying everything I could to keep our family together. He was abusive. I could see all of his pain from his childhood, how he was raised and wanted to heal it. I wanted to make everything better, make up for his loss as a baby of his mom, he treated me like I was his mom sometimes, which was weird, he called me mom just the other day.... weird twisted world. He took advantage of my pity. Used it as an excuse for all of his shortcomings. I didn't feel loved mostly I felt used, used for sex, used for sex, and more sex. Mostly his life was about avoidance. I tried to get him to parent, it always backfired, he would explode at the kids, or make them feel bad about themselves or both. Luckily Koli, Sione and Roxie seem to have avoided most of that... though Koli was hit the most by him, Angela was hurt the most. She entered a shell when he would rant. She would become silent, he wouldn't touch her then because she was silent. Koli always cried and cried, it made him worse. I tried to find love, his cousin found me, he hurt me. Ironically every male attempt, just about every time, I'm offered sympathy, a back massage and then I fall into a defensive state, I withdraw and things happen to me that I'm not really a part of. Or I guess I don't want to admit to being a part of them, it makes me hate myself. It always hurts after, I always hurt after I've allowed myself to be used. In many ways I wish, that I could lay down next to my Dad, he would run my hair between his fingernails and kiss the top of my head, until I got too big. I know my Dad loved me/loves me but it's a different relationship now. I'm his daughter yes, but I'm an adult, I'm more like an acquaintance sometimes, it's weird. I looked to others for love, and didn't find it. Sam freaked me out, flipped out one Christmas and tore apart my daughters Lilo doll because she didn't want her younger brother to play with it. After that I was so scared, Sam had threw things at me, pushed me to get at the doll which I had hidden in the laundry room. After that I didn't want anything to do with him. I found someone else to take advantage of me, but I couldn't leave Sam, it would have been my fault... then I broke it off with the other guy, went back to Sam, made up.... and he seemed different, went to church... talked to the bishop, wanted to be sealed. I was terrified of the idea. Didn't want to do it for a long time, but then I questioned why not, it was everything that I had wanted a whole intact eternal family. I bought into it, I stopped hoping that he would leave and that the time had come that everything would be right. It did seem better, right. I remember realizing one day while getting out of a late class and walking to the parking lot to my car that I wouldn't want to be with anyone else, I felt Sam like a part of me, I loved him, I cared about him and for him... I felt everything would be alright, until it wasn't.  It wasn't, 2009 was the year from Hell. A broken economy, which broke Sams ability to earn enough money, me striving to be better and better... a perfect mom, homeschooling her little boy. A bing on bran muffins and textured vegetable protein that almost killed me (trying to be a "Healthy Vegan), Sam flipping out because I was trying to get rid of the bad candy on Easter (I ate some and it made my heart race) and I threw some in his face because he was arguing with me about it, he turned over the table in the living room with flowers that I wanted to plant and a bowl of pistachios then he threw my daughters car seat at me, it hit me on the leg I went out the front door, I went limping down the street but there was no one awake. I didn't want to be dramatic, I didn't want to disturb anyone (it was very early in the morning) so I limped back, I swallowed my tears and swallowed his story that he was dreaming, that his uncle used to kick him when he was sleeping because his aunt told him that he had stolen money. I let it go but was hurt, and very weak. Weak because I was very sick.Then the day that the floor fell out from under me. The day my daughter told me her Dad had tried to put his hand down her pants. I believed her, I took action and then I took it back. I didn't want him to go to jail. He told me he thought she was me. I WANTED to believe him, but I knew deeply that it wasn't true. He told me that he was supposed to pick up a $50,000 dollar check that morning for all of the work he had been doing on the Price airport. He told me it was his last chance because the guy was going to fly out to see his mother who was dying from cancer. I felt ill because he had worked so hard all year and had borrowed so much money and $50,000 could have fixed a lot of that. I wanted to protect my daughter, but I wanted things to be better, I borrowed a thousand dollars from my Dad to bail him out and I let him back into the house, into our lives. I put a lock on her door. I let him stay with us... it was a nightmare, we had court hearings, DCFS wanted answers. He was not supposed to be staying with us, I lied to the court. My therapist calls it the Stockholm syndrome where a victim will protect their abuser. I finally did kick him out, September of 2010. It was winter. He took our Yukon and lived out of it for a while. Stayed with his friend sometimes. I couldn't help him, I had to turn my heart to stone. He begged and pleaded, he cried. I had to stay strong but when he left I would break into tears. I would scream. I didn't have a car for a while. Then I bought a little Honda from our neighbors, the doors on the passenger side were smashed in a bit because it had been in an accident. The window was cracked it needed a new battery and headlight but it was $300 dollars and only about $300 more to fix it. Then I had to pull myself together and look for work. I applied and applied everywhere I could but couldn't find anything. The Bishop of our ward paid the rent from church fast offerings. I was on food stamps and medicaid. We were OK. Then my son ran into a light post and his friends house and broke his kidney. He complained about his stomach hurting but I thought that it would get better, except that he was lying on the couch and not getting up to join us for dinner. After dinner he went up and used the bathroom then came down to tell me that he had blood in his urine. I brought him to the Orem emergency room, they did a CAT scan and then explained that his kidney had broken, they were about to send him in a helicopter to Primary Childrens hospital but found that his vital signs were good so sent him by ambulance. I rode with him. Sam drove the Yukon. I felt sick. Fortunately the doctor at Primary Children held off on doing surgery to remove the kidney because Koli's vital signs were good. He recuperated at the hospital. They put him on a special diet and let his body heal. I got a job. Out of the blue a company I had interviewed with before hired me. I started working, but was afraid I would lose my job because I had to go to SLC to see my son everyday. But I tried very hard not to let everything I was going through and had been through affect my work. I tried VERY hard and was taken advantage of. The company rewarded my efforts by making me a supervisor and putting me on salary and giving me benefits and then they demanded my time. They demanded that I finish X or Y project before going home and so I would work really late, sometimes I worked all night. I was in so much pain, I still screamed at times about everything that had happened. I would scream out in my little broken car and then would pull myself together and go in to work. Perhaps I will write more later...