It is really great to be happy for the most part, but I love it when people are honest about the heartache in their lives.Tonight I heard a great quote:
"When we are judging another person it leaves us no time to love them."
My experience is teaching me daily to love others for who they are.
I believe strongly that we create our own happiness.
It is much of the reason my blog is labeled "the business of creating."
I want to have the hope that I'm creating my life anew with things
that are beautiful and full of love.
But there are times where it seems the weight of
everything seems so heavy and impossible to work with.
I want to keep it all in and hide it, but it just gets worse that way.
I really don't want what happened to me to define
who I am, but I know in some ways it really has to.
It is constantly there. I feel like I have the words written
in deep, black marker on my forehead: Divorced. I can't ignore it when I met new people because somehow it always comes up. I can't escape it. And the feelings are hard to run away from.
It is so hard to hear women my age talk about how hard
it is to be single and they just need to have the faith to hold
on and wait for the Lord's time to find their eternal companion.
I know that I shouldn't judge, but sometimes I wish that was my
boat. That the only concern on my mind would be whether a man
was him or not.
But for me, I wonder if I will ever be able to be with a
man and not be trying to block out the words that replay
over and over in my head. His words. With his anger and hatred.
I wonder if I'll ever be able to trust a man when he says something
and not wonder what his alternative motive is.
Sometimes all I think about is the anger and the fights and the emptiness of living with a man that I didn't love. And I feel the weight of being a failure in something that is so final and supposedly so beautiful.
And then I feel the guilt. The guilt of thinking I was given an opportunity
to find happiness and I ruined it. That it was merely me. I am the weak one.
And I don't deserve another chance.
To me, my dreams of marriage are similar to having a glass figurine, admirably beautiful and delicate, thrown with fury against a wall and shattered into a million pieces. I am confused how to began picking up the pieces and fitting it back together.
I find myself so full of anger for what has happened that I wonder if I will ever find the strength to forgive and move on. I am furious sometimes. There are instances where I feel the pain deeply; I wonder whether I can let the Atonement heal the gaping holes and leave me able to love another man.
Most times I am so content to just have myself. Just do what I please and not to beg for understanding and forgiveness. And really I am grateful that I have some place to just put my burdens out in the open and not have to dwell on them alone.
I am happy and I am hurting.
My blog is bipolar: welcome.
"When we are judging another person it leaves us no time to love them."
My experience is teaching me daily to love others for who they are.
I believe strongly that we create our own happiness.
It is much of the reason my blog is labeled "the business of creating."
I want to have the hope that I'm creating my life anew with things
that are beautiful and full of love.
But there are times where it seems the weight of
everything seems so heavy and impossible to work with.
I want to keep it all in and hide it, but it just gets worse that way.
I really don't want what happened to me to define
who I am, but I know in some ways it really has to.
It is constantly there. I feel like I have the words written
in deep, black marker on my forehead: Divorced. I can't ignore it when I met new people because somehow it always comes up. I can't escape it. And the feelings are hard to run away from.
It is so hard to hear women my age talk about how hard
it is to be single and they just need to have the faith to hold
on and wait for the Lord's time to find their eternal companion.
I know that I shouldn't judge, but sometimes I wish that was my
boat. That the only concern on my mind would be whether a man
was him or not.
But for me, I wonder if I will ever be able to be with a
man and not be trying to block out the words that replay
over and over in my head. His words. With his anger and hatred.
I wonder if I'll ever be able to trust a man when he says something
and not wonder what his alternative motive is.
Sometimes all I think about is the anger and the fights and the emptiness of living with a man that I didn't love. And I feel the weight of being a failure in something that is so final and supposedly so beautiful.
And then I feel the guilt. The guilt of thinking I was given an opportunity
to find happiness and I ruined it. That it was merely me. I am the weak one.
And I don't deserve another chance.
To me, my dreams of marriage are similar to having a glass figurine, admirably beautiful and delicate, thrown with fury against a wall and shattered into a million pieces. I am confused how to began picking up the pieces and fitting it back together.
I find myself so full of anger for what has happened that I wonder if I will ever find the strength to forgive and move on. I am furious sometimes. There are instances where I feel the pain deeply; I wonder whether I can let the Atonement heal the gaping holes and leave me able to love another man.
Most times I am so content to just have myself. Just do what I please and not to beg for understanding and forgiveness. And really I am grateful that I have some place to just put my burdens out in the open and not have to dwell on them alone.
I am happy and I am hurting.
My blog is bipolar: welcome.
