Compassion Came Out

For too many years I felt alone in my home. I felt like it was my job to run the house, run a business (at home with baby) and run our lives. 

 

I tried to work recovery. I tried to serve in my church. I tried to stay healthy. I tried to do it all and I felt zero support from Husband in my efforts. He worked a lot and was in school and during the rare moments that he was at home, he wasn't really present. 

 

It's easy to look back now and say I was simply overwhelmed. I had way too much on my plate and way too little support; but at the time I simply felt unqualified for life. I felt like everybody I saw around me could do it all and there was something wrong with me because I was breaking at the seams.

I still hold some resentment toward Husband because I felt like he had abandoned me. And instead of seeing that I was drowning and trying to help, he was adding more for me to do.
"We really need you to keep working, can't you do anything to get more clients?"
"I looked at porn again today, if we could just have sex more....." and
day after day with no conversations at all.

We're heading into a busy work week for him and he'll be gone an awful lot. He works 13-14 hour days and he has picked up some extra shifts which means that yesterday was his only day off in a 9 day stretch. He will be exhausted at the end of every day and come home to sleep. He won't be present. He won't help around the house. I won't get an extra set of hands for bedtime, or getting my littles where they need to be. I'll be on my own again - which brings up all those unsettled feelings of resentment. 

I had expressed this concern to him in a less-than-kind discussion. I whined and pissed and moaned and told him I hate that he does this. I reminded him of his uselessness and exhaustion when he works too much. I told him I was too tired to take it all on again. I laid it all out and he sat there - removed from the conversation thinking that I'm crazy.

Yesterday (the only day off) he did a lot of stuff. He tried to catch up some household chores, he took the kids out for a fun afternoon at a local hands-on children's museum and by the end of the day he was exhausted. I ran from one appointment to the next all day, and when I sat down to dinner at 6:15 knowing that I had somewhere to be at 6:30, I took a second to look across the table. I saw the familiar bloodshot eyes and sagging lids. I saw the slumped posture and the heavy hands. I saw the exhaustion all over his face and (though I'm not proud of it) I was so glad. I wanted him to understand how I felt during those years. I wanted him to see what he put me through. And in that moment I was prepared to show him exactly why our discussion about him doing this to me again this week was heated. Why I still felt strongly about it.

This is how I felt every day for 3 years! All the while you asked me to make more money, take on more work, be more available to you and be a better person! This is how I still feel every day at 6:15 knowing that you'll technically be off work in 15 minutes but won't come home for another hour or 2. This is the time of day when the only reason I don't run out the front door screaming is that it would take too much effort. This is the part where you start counting down the minutes until an extra set of hands comes home - but the car never pulls up and there is no extra set of hands. THIS IS WHY I HATE YOU. 

I thought all of those things, and I was well prepared to say them. So I opened my mouth, and by the grace of God none of that came out. Compassion came out instead. 

"I can tell you have been working hard all day and you are totally exhausted. I can see that you could really use some help right now, and that you're overwhelmed. I'm so sorry for that and I know that you know I'm about to leave and you're facing bedtime alone and that probably feels like yet another mountain to climb. I'm so sorry that I won't be here to help tonight."

I still felt all of the resentment and the sick pleasure that maybe he was finally understanding a little tiny piece of what I went through. I wasn't feeling compassion as I spoke - but compassion is what came out of my mouth. 

After my other appointments, when I came home to do the remaining dishes and laundry, THEN I felt compassion and gratitude. I was thankful that he took the time to play with my Littles. I was relieved that he made the effort to make my week easier. And most importantly, I truly felt compassion for that horribly exhausting evening. Because the feeling is familiar to me, and (finally) I was sorry he experienced it too. 

It's such a strange thing to open your mouth prepared to say one thing, and have something different come out. But I am glad it did. I am glad that what I spoke became true a few hours later. And though I haven't asked him, I feel comfortable saying that those words were at least a little healing for him.

In Buffalo House we often miss the boat, but there are still many many signs of improvement, growth and learning.

With or Without Him

I think I sometimes have a "strong" personality - which is the polite way of saying I'm a pain in the butt and difficult to live with. And in order to counteract my "strong" personality, I spend a lot of time trying to make sure I'm not in anybody's way. I don't want to step on toes or steal somebody's thunder, or be in the way. I want to do my job while everybody else does theirs.

That's why it's hard for me to kill my own buffalo when it's so clearly Husband's job.

When he's gone, it becomes clearly my job and I'm happy to step up to the plate. I kill spiders, care for open flesh wounds, climb trees to chop down limbs and pay people to do maintenance on the cars - all by myself. (I know...I'm impressive. [insert mock bows here])

Historically, we run a tight ship around here, staying as busy as possible and often over-scheduling our poor little family. This means either he does everything or I do everything as the other one of us is off doing something else. It's easier to take responsibility when the choices for responsible people are just me or The Littles.
 
But in an effort to repair our damaged relationship and live our lives at a more reasonable pace, we've made a concerted effort to Stop It.We're slowing down. Not going places every day and trying to make our relationship a higher priority than all the other relationships.

This means we're around each other more. Which is.....different.

The tough part for me is killing my own buffalo while my *mumble mumble, grumble grumble* husband stands there watching.

Can I load The Littles in the stroller and walk them to school without getting anybody hit by a car all by myself? Yes I can.
Can I kill the spiders, do the dishes, kiss the skinned knees and answer the phone while cooking mac 'n cheese ? Yes I can.
Can I pay people to maintain my cars, pump my own gas, be an awesome landlord and mow my own lawn? Yes I can.

But when Husband joins us on any of these adventures, I hate him for making me do it all.
I want him to kiss the knees while I cook the lunch.
I want to squeal like a little girl while he kills the unbelievably large spider.
I want to count on him to chase one Little out of the street while the other Little and I examine the worms in the sidewalk cracks.
I want him to at least load the gun for me so I can kill the buffalo.

This is still my challenge. Killing my own buffalo WITH (or without) him.

So this week when he joined us for our walk to school, distracting The Littles from the walking part and encouraging them to walk in the middle of the road, then asked me what was for lunch as I was cleaning up breakfast, I smiled and didn't tell him where to look for lunch.

Baby steps.

A Buffalo I WANT to Kill: Inspiration

I wanted someone to tell me the right words to say and feelings to feel after Husband loses (and loses and loses). I wanted an outline.

7 minutes weeping
13 minutes kneeling
4 minutes breaking things
1 minute lecturing
16 minutes planning
21 minutes writing

But when I wrote that post. Wishing and hoping for that answer, you know whaat I heard?

You will know.

I went to church and heard the same thing over and over again.

You will know. Pray for inspiration and it will come.

Every scripture read, every talk, ever classroom discussion boiled down to just that.

But what I really wanted was a formula. A measurable checklist.

So I listened to some talks and discussions.

And wouldn't you know it? Every single one said the same thing.

You will know. Pray for answers and you will get them.

Fine. I thought, I'll do it.

So before I went to bed I prayed for help through difficult to situations. I prayed I would know how to respond.

And I'll keep praying for that and training myself to hear inspiration and stop fighting it.

I'll keep you posted on that one.

A Buffalo I Killed: The Temple

I spent a lot of time in the temple last month.

I should clarify, a lot for me and there were days it broke my heart to go alone because I want more than anything to hold my sweetheart's hand in the celestial room knowing that the blessings of the temple and eternity apply to us.

But the vast majority of the time I simply LOVED being there. By myself. In the peace and quiet being taught by the spirit.

I loved to go multiple days in a row and see familiar faces of temple workers who I knew only because I was there the day before.
I loved to have built in study and prayer time. Silent. Calm. And mine.
I loved putting Husband's name on the prayer roll (role? roll?) along with other dear friends' and exercising my faith with others there on their behalf.
I loved coming home and bringing the spirit and the angels with me.
I loved learning different things from different ordinances.
I loved doing names from a ward member who needed help.

It was a beautiful experience to be there so much.

Once after doing sealings, the Sealer stopped me afterward and said "I hope you'll come back to do sealings again soon. You should bring your husband with you!" I told him I'd be back soon and bit my tongue about Husband. Of course I should bring him with me! I'd love nothing more. And I hoped with all my heart I could do exactly that. But the truth is that it isn't up to me.

Early in December Husband attended a temple sealing of a dear friend with me. He was worthy and it was beautiful. He mentioned more than once that he wanted to go do some work soon, but he's not so great with the planning and follow through and I am learning to be better at not taking over his good ideas. So I didn't say anything and he didn't go.

Then he lost.
And now he can't go.

I am trying desperately to find my place in his healing. To be supportive, but not take over. But now I wish I had planned my own temple day and simply invited him. It takes so much effort for me to leave him alone, that I fear I go too far and am not supportive. Like everything in life finding the balance is the most difficult part for me.

I believe the answer is that I'm not going to let his worthiness for a temple recommend influence my temple attendance. I will go when I need to and want to go. And he will do the same. I won't resent him when he can't or won't come and I won't force him when he can. I'll simply do what I know I need to do and trust that he'll do what he needs to do too. Even if what he needs looks different from what I need.

A buffalo I killed

What's funny about this is that I began this post 2 months ago, then couldn't honestly think of anything impressive so I left it in my drafts hoping to do something impressive I could brag to you about. For the sake of honesty, I'm posting this incomplete and unimpressive list so that when I'm a regular Buffalo Bundy (ok, that wasn't funny....poor taste. Why can't I bring myself to delete it?) I can refer back to this to see how far I've come.

Now, the original post:

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Here's hoping this is a regular feature on my blog. Because I have A LOT of work to do in the buffalo murderer area.

 

I depend far too much on the people around me. I resent it when people don't do what I think they should do.

 

And because buffalo killing (for me) is far more about my attitude than the behavior this might not be at all impressive to you, but I promise I'll only write what's impressive for me.

 

• Packing and unpacking for camping. All of it. The equipment, the food (which I planned and shopped for) and the "stuff". That's a lot of work all the way around and with a child on each ankle, I feel like it was awesome.
• Costco. I hate Costco (and I love it too) I hate the giant carts you can't move around and the fact that there are never fewer than 9 million people in the way and that when you get home you can only haul one thing at a time up the stairs. And that the babies want to eat all the samples, and ride in the bottom of the cart, no the top of the cart, no your shoulders, no NO CART!!! So hauling the kids, bringing the stuff upstairs (even the stuff that could wait for the big strong man in my life to do it.) and I didn't hate Husband for not contributing.
• Making and breaking camp. The whole deal. Setting up tents, pack and play and rolling our foam pads tight enough to put away. Putting the babies to bed.
• Getting the kids ready for church on my own and still being plenty early.

That's it. Like I said - this is probably just a regular Monday morning for some of you, but the not resenting anybody was the big deal for me.

[insert graceful bow here]