Ok, so they say “Confession is good for the Soul”, so here is my confessional. On my facebook account I had me as single, and I am, but I’m also divorced.
Divorced from a man I dearly love(d), but also hated at times – wrong I know.
I miss him every day and every night I lay down. I will catch myself thinking something and wondering what his response would’ve been, and just chuckle to myself to keep from crying. Or I’ll say something he would’ve said and laugh because I sound just like him.
Our marriage didn’t end well, I left to keep one of us from dying. He was mentally, physically, and financially abusive, and it came to the point where I told him ‘He had to go to sleep at some point.” It was after those words left my mouth I knew I had to leave, I couldn’t allow myself to be pulled down to his level – I wouldn’t allow it, nor did I want my parents to get a call that I was dead, courtesy of my husband.
Like I said, it wasn’t pretty, and my parents took me in under their wings, yet again, and protected me as much as they could from him. He sent word multiple times, via multiple people that “if he couldn’t have me, no one could”. He would ‘stalk’ me in other people’s vehicles, so I started praying, hard. I knew the next step, either I was going to die, or he was going to die – via my doings or my father’s hand. I didn’t want that to happen, so I prayed for God to move me or move him. I didn’t care if it was via the grave, or out of the city or out of the state, I just couldn’t fight anymore. (I’ll spare you my family’s suicide watch over me as I was going through all of this, but I will say, my Samson, saved my life. Thank God for chihuahua’s, smile.)
I left him on Halloween 2001, and the divorce was final January 2002. The judge asked me if I wanted anything, and I looked at him, with tears in my eyes, and said ‘my name back’. He asked me about my things at his house, I said, I have what I need, he can keep the rest, I just want my name back, as I had hyphenated my name only 6 months before because he thought I didn’t love him enough to change my name. Truth was, I just didn’t want to lose my daddy’s name, that was all!
During our marriage he had developed heart problems that required him to have a pacemaker and I was the perfect nurse, diligent with his food, his meds, his exercise, I never left him and promised I’d never leave his side. I promised him he’d never die alone, and to this day that promise haunts me.
Around Halloween 2002, I received a phone call from one of his daughters, she said “daddy had a heart attack and died last night”. I responded with no he didn’t, he couldn’t have a heart attack, he had a pacemaker for Christ sake. She said no, he had a heart attack, he’s gone.
I’m not sure if it was guilt, relief, sadness, physical pain, or what, but I went numb all over. What had I done? Why had I prayed for God to move one of us? This wasn’t what I wanted. Then it hit me, he had died alone. No one was with him, no family, no friends, no one. I’d lied to him.
I couldn’t go to the funeral, I thought his death was my fault and I didn’t want anyone to see me because I was sure they’d know, they’d see my relief, guilt. His daughter called me after the funeral and said they were cleaning his house out and wanted to know if I wanted to come get my things. I met her at the house, through tears of love and hate, I gathered my clothes, some books, stuffed animals, and a picture of us on his motorcycle. (When I finally took the picture out of the frame, years later, I found a receipt of the hotel where we stayed the first time we went to New Orleans. I know somewhere inside him he loved me, but something changed him, and I couldn’t fight it.) His daughter helped me load up my little Nissan and she asked why the doors wouldn’t lock properly and were, for the most part, off the hinges, I told her he was good at slamming doors – which sent my nerves to the moon. She just hugged me, and said I’m sorry. I left and that was it, I honestly didn’t look back.
I have since been out to the grave site, and at first the hatred for him just poured out, what he had done to us, what he had done to me, what he had caused me to pray, then I could hear him laughing, laughing at me. I turned and walked away and have never been back to his grave site.
Dreams, at first, I had them every night. Satan was definitely on his job, but so were my praying parents, and it seemed the harder we prayed the harder satan fought me, then one morning I realized, no dream about him. Had I finally won the battle? Yes, now if I dream about him, it’s not scary, on my end, but I see him in pain, fearful, hurting, and there’s nothing I can do for him. He’s always out of my reach. I want to help him, I try to reach out and he moves further and further away, and I wake up in a cold sweat calling his name.
My trail of abusive relationships ended with him. Mainly because I’ve never allowed anyone to get close enough to hurt me again. I’ve built a wall, so high, so thick, so invisible that only my family is allowed over into my world. I shut off myself to everyone and everything, he became so possessive that he pushed everyone away from us, from me. This, I know, is my fault. In this regard, he won, but eventually I’ll re-claim the trophy and move on with that part of my life.
One day God will put a man just where he needs to be in order for me to see him, watch him prove himself, as my ability to trust someone, especially a man, is at about 10%. Again, all my fault, I chose to shut down instead of stand up and fight. A mistake I will not make again!
This Halloween will be 10 years since I left him. I think I’m finally ready to move on. I’m deathly afraid I’ll fail, again! I’m deathly afraid I’ll not be able to tear down my wall, but I’m working on it one brick at a time, and maybe, just maybe, when I get a doorway clear, God will allow that someone to walk through who will take care of me, and not use and abuse me.
And to that end, I ask for your prayers, so I can continue with the deconstruction of my wall, so He can send me the man I’m suppose to spend the rest of my life with.
[I have purposefully left out my ex-husband’s name, as I don’t feel it behooves anyone to talk about the dead. May his soul be at peace.]
Day 1: 2 September 2011, The coast is warned of a TS making its way inland, so everyone on the coastlines are making preparations. This will not be another Katrina, but flooding and high winds are on the menu. Oh, let me mention here that my mother decides to go ahead with her foot surgery, as it is a three day weekend for my sister and I – Labor Day, remember those two words.
Day 2: 3 September 2011, TS Lee graces us with his presences, rain bands, high winds, nothing we don’t usually see with a thunderstorm, so no biggy. This is until the wind direction begins to change and the rain bands become more intense. The way the trees are bending have me serious frightened – gun shy from Katrina I suppose. My sister and I team up and cook for the day ’cause there’s nothing else we can do, but go outside and get wet – not an option. We do laundry, and nap…yeah baby, naps are always on the menu at our house.
Day 3: 4 September 2011, Tornado warnings out the waahoo! Geez, Lee could’ve been nice and just been a rain dumper, after all, we seriously needed the rain. All my trees and plants think they have died and gone to heaven! Delirium is setting in for me and my sister. Cooking and cooking and more cooking ’cause mother couldn’t get on her foot, remember foot surgery. When we aren’t cooking/cleaning/doing laundry, we are napping – what else can one do during a rain event? Oh, Jim Cantore made his way down to Biloxi to witness a squall line come in. Now you tell me how many squall lines has this man seen? They all look and act the same, so why waste the time/gas to even make the trip? We could’ve sent him footage! (I love Jim Cantore, but it seriously bothers me when he shows up doing a weather event.)
Day 4: 5 September 2011, Lee has been downgraded to a extra-tropical depression which the Weather Channel will no longer cover, so we’re in the clear, or so we will be by 4PM. Breakfast and dinner was on us – we cooked, but lunch, it was every man for themselves, except for momma, we got her what she wanted.
Day 5: 6 September 2011, The sun is shining, my sister and I spent our Labor Day laboring over our mother. Thus far, she’s been a good patient,much like TS Lee was a good TS, not too much damage (for the most part,if one considers what happened 6 years ago around this time). My sister and I are back at work for some rest, before we head back home for cooking, cleaning, laundry, and what ever else Momma can find for us to do.
Side note: The chickens loved the weather – it was a worm fest at my house. I’ll have to go purchase worms now to go fishing, as they cleaned us out, of that I’m sure!
I hope everyone had a wonderful 3 day break and received some much needed rain!
Students seize overseas opportunities by Jonathan Andrews
There are a variety of study abroad programs available to those interested in expanding their horizons by studying in foreign countries.
Brittany Murphy, a senior history major, spent nearly three weeks in Vietnam as part of a study abroad program.
“I think that it’s more than just a gaining of knowledge, it’s a gaining of experience, an eye opener and, in my case, a heart opener,” Murphy said. “If a student is skeptical about studying abroad, I’d tell them that it would change their mind, their heart and their soul,” she said.
Jessica Nester also spent some time abroad, but chose [to] be a part of the program in Spain.
Nester, whose study abroad trip was her first outside the country explained that being in a place where everyone speaks a different language can seem daunting at first, but having others in the same situation, like fellow students in a study abroad program, can help ease the transition.