I've had this post unpublished for months now.
Part of this is not a subject I've wanted on here. Because others read it. :)
But this really is my journal, and I know I'm not the only one who's ever experienced this. Who knows, maybe someday I can even put the details of the first marriages on here and not feel like I'm betraying some unspoken silence contract. I'm not one to air dirty laundry on social media, I think it's so tasteless and embarrassing. But I do feel being too hush hush about things keeps us from learning important lessons and becoming close to others as families, friends, neighbors, communities, as humanity. Am I sounding odd? ;) Hopefully it doesn't sound completely insane :)
I know what I mean anyway...
If people could be honest about what they are struggling with, without fear of judgement, they would have much greater incentive to work on being better, instead of working on keeping the issue hidden or giving up... We could lovingly help each other, rather than tear each other down in our attempt to feel better about our own mess. Everyone has it, plenty of it, some just have been hiding it longer, some are better at hiding it, and some issues by nature are easier to hide. Doesn't mean it's not there, and anyone who insists they have none, is either a liar or delusional. I truly believe this. Even in my strongest moments, I can search myself and find plenty that needs work.
When Lincoln and I first married, things were awfully stressful right off. We were thrust into the hell of dealing with his first marriage's psychotic mess as well as his shambles of a personal life. My own divorce, next to his, looked like a neatly packaged deal with a pretty bow. So right away, I felt incredibly uncomfortable and overwhelmed. But I stood my ground. I certainly wasn't naive or a push over with what was taking place. But I could never get my head above water to catch a breath.
At first, Lincoln was tender and adoring. And I believed I was secure in my position as his spouse. But as time went on, it was obvious we didn't agree on much, if anything. I pleaded for him to take my gut feelings seriously. He refused. We paid dearly. I was angry with him for not trusting me and being so trusting of people who hadn't earned that trust. He was angry with me for not just letting him continue as he had before we got married. Every time I tried talking to him about our issues he would flip out and disappear (usually within our own house, or right outside, but it literally took me hours to find him.) So I was stuck wondering what the crap he was doing, where he was, if he was safe or not... It came to a head more than once, with me really questioning if I'd totally misunderstood my gut feelings about marrying him in the first place. And wondering if I should stay, or leave.
I'd been told I couldn't get pregnant, so Aidan was a surprise that we didn't find out about until I was already 13 weeks along. The second that precious boy was born, his dad turned jealous... I was stunned. Of course he got over it. It did take years, but his love for all the boys deepened to the point of standing his ground too. A pretty awesome thing indeed.
When we moved back to ID, it didn't help us, being right next to his parents. It was like putting lighter fluid on an open flame. But slowly, he stopped flipping out. And I stopped lashing out. As more and more became known about the boys' disabilities, my focus was often spread so thin that we constantly had times on totally different pages emotionally. The therapy and specialist visits schedules were dizzying. We went back and forth, feeling connected for a while, then not, and back... Then everything with Aidan happened.
As I said, we already lived in tremendous intensity, with three disabled boys. But it became so much more, in a flash. Lincoln felt the squeeze of it sooner than I did, because he was away all day with two jobs and relationships with other people. I was in the thick of 24/7. So I was in a haze of sleep deprivation and numb survival mode with the ultra limited contact of a few choice nurses and therapists. He started struggling with things that made me wonder again where I stood with him, on a deep level. After Aidan passed, I got hit with my own version of wanting to do certain things to drown out the piercing heartache of losing our precious boy to such suffering and missing him so so much. I chose the safe route of going to counseling so that I wouldn't add more stress or harm to our family.
We were able to talk about it all, and I laid there wondered what the hell I was doing with this guy...
And after weeks of prayer and fasting, this is my conclusion:
We'll have been married 14yrs in a few months. We've had some pretty awful experiences. And some pretty incredible joy. I have the most perfect angels as a direct result from choosing what I wanted to walk away from multiple times, but I stayed. I have a deep testimony of our Savior, Heavenly Father's plan, and The Atonement. I believe, I hope, that I am a more compassionate person. I certainly keep working on it. I understand oneness and what real love is. I work on that as well.
I don't regret any of it.
And though it's part of it, I'm not just talking about spousal oneness, but in regards to commandments to love God and our neighbors. He expects us to learn to be one as a huge eternal family... That's a tall goal considering how stupidly selfish we can be as humans. And it's down right scary when we look around and see how real evil is. But it is achievable, it's been done before. Frankly, marriage and family is a perfect place to learn how. We have a tendency to falsely believe that marriage is only meant for learning to love each other and feel true intimacy, stay through the bad times, blah blah... But it's more than that.
And I want to fulfill my responsibility to have that goal in my mind, ever moving towards it. So that someday, He will bring my angels back to me. I know Lincoln feels the same way. How amazing it will be when we can trust each other completely and feel love from and towards each other, no matter who we are, or what our past involves.
Because that past won't matter anymore.
I'm not typically into posting lyrics to songs on here, but I think it fits and it's a song from a band Aidan and I used to listen to all the time. Sorry for the swearing. :)
"Hurricane"
Turn the page
Turn the corner
Open to change
Cut the hoax
We're starting over
I don't want to live this way
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
A quiet rage
A screaming silence
It's all around
Let me in
The world we built, is crashing in
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
It just gets better (x2)
Ohhoohoohoo (x4)
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
It just gets better (x2)
Part of this is not a subject I've wanted on here. Because others read it. :)
But this really is my journal, and I know I'm not the only one who's ever experienced this. Who knows, maybe someday I can even put the details of the first marriages on here and not feel like I'm betraying some unspoken silence contract. I'm not one to air dirty laundry on social media, I think it's so tasteless and embarrassing. But I do feel being too hush hush about things keeps us from learning important lessons and becoming close to others as families, friends, neighbors, communities, as humanity. Am I sounding odd? ;) Hopefully it doesn't sound completely insane :)
I know what I mean anyway...
If people could be honest about what they are struggling with, without fear of judgement, they would have much greater incentive to work on being better, instead of working on keeping the issue hidden or giving up... We could lovingly help each other, rather than tear each other down in our attempt to feel better about our own mess. Everyone has it, plenty of it, some just have been hiding it longer, some are better at hiding it, and some issues by nature are easier to hide. Doesn't mean it's not there, and anyone who insists they have none, is either a liar or delusional. I truly believe this. Even in my strongest moments, I can search myself and find plenty that needs work.
When Lincoln and I first married, things were awfully stressful right off. We were thrust into the hell of dealing with his first marriage's psychotic mess as well as his shambles of a personal life. My own divorce, next to his, looked like a neatly packaged deal with a pretty bow. So right away, I felt incredibly uncomfortable and overwhelmed. But I stood my ground. I certainly wasn't naive or a push over with what was taking place. But I could never get my head above water to catch a breath.
At first, Lincoln was tender and adoring. And I believed I was secure in my position as his spouse. But as time went on, it was obvious we didn't agree on much, if anything. I pleaded for him to take my gut feelings seriously. He refused. We paid dearly. I was angry with him for not trusting me and being so trusting of people who hadn't earned that trust. He was angry with me for not just letting him continue as he had before we got married. Every time I tried talking to him about our issues he would flip out and disappear (usually within our own house, or right outside, but it literally took me hours to find him.) So I was stuck wondering what the crap he was doing, where he was, if he was safe or not... It came to a head more than once, with me really questioning if I'd totally misunderstood my gut feelings about marrying him in the first place. And wondering if I should stay, or leave.
I'd been told I couldn't get pregnant, so Aidan was a surprise that we didn't find out about until I was already 13 weeks along. The second that precious boy was born, his dad turned jealous... I was stunned. Of course he got over it. It did take years, but his love for all the boys deepened to the point of standing his ground too. A pretty awesome thing indeed.
When we moved back to ID, it didn't help us, being right next to his parents. It was like putting lighter fluid on an open flame. But slowly, he stopped flipping out. And I stopped lashing out. As more and more became known about the boys' disabilities, my focus was often spread so thin that we constantly had times on totally different pages emotionally. The therapy and specialist visits schedules were dizzying. We went back and forth, feeling connected for a while, then not, and back... Then everything with Aidan happened.
As I said, we already lived in tremendous intensity, with three disabled boys. But it became so much more, in a flash. Lincoln felt the squeeze of it sooner than I did, because he was away all day with two jobs and relationships with other people. I was in the thick of 24/7. So I was in a haze of sleep deprivation and numb survival mode with the ultra limited contact of a few choice nurses and therapists. He started struggling with things that made me wonder again where I stood with him, on a deep level. After Aidan passed, I got hit with my own version of wanting to do certain things to drown out the piercing heartache of losing our precious boy to such suffering and missing him so so much. I chose the safe route of going to counseling so that I wouldn't add more stress or harm to our family.
We were able to talk about it all, and I laid there wondered what the hell I was doing with this guy...
And after weeks of prayer and fasting, this is my conclusion:
We'll have been married 14yrs in a few months. We've had some pretty awful experiences. And some pretty incredible joy. I have the most perfect angels as a direct result from choosing what I wanted to walk away from multiple times, but I stayed. I have a deep testimony of our Savior, Heavenly Father's plan, and The Atonement. I believe, I hope, that I am a more compassionate person. I certainly keep working on it. I understand oneness and what real love is. I work on that as well.
I don't regret any of it.
And though it's part of it, I'm not just talking about spousal oneness, but in regards to commandments to love God and our neighbors. He expects us to learn to be one as a huge eternal family... That's a tall goal considering how stupidly selfish we can be as humans. And it's down right scary when we look around and see how real evil is. But it is achievable, it's been done before. Frankly, marriage and family is a perfect place to learn how. We have a tendency to falsely believe that marriage is only meant for learning to love each other and feel true intimacy, stay through the bad times, blah blah... But it's more than that.
And I want to fulfill my responsibility to have that goal in my mind, ever moving towards it. So that someday, He will bring my angels back to me. I know Lincoln feels the same way. How amazing it will be when we can trust each other completely and feel love from and towards each other, no matter who we are, or what our past involves.
Because that past won't matter anymore.
I'm not typically into posting lyrics to songs on here, but I think it fits and it's a song from a band Aidan and I used to listen to all the time. Sorry for the swearing. :)
"Hurricane"
Turn the page
Turn the corner
Open to change
Cut the hoax
We're starting over
I don't want to live this way
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
A quiet rage
A screaming silence
It's all around
Let me in
The world we built, is crashing in
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
It just gets better (x2)
Ohhoohoohoo (x4)
We made it through hell and back again
We were slipping through the cracks, staring at the end
Ohhoohoo, and we braved the weather
Hurricane, couldn't take you from me
I'm holding on tight and I still believe
Ohhoohoo, ya it just gets better
It just gets better (x2)
1 comment:
Rachel, I admire you and your strength and your faith. Your grace amazes me every single day. I think about you often and I pray for all of the Lear family. I cannot begin to understand all that you deal with and the love and the pain you must feel. Although it is nothing like what you have gone through, we have had our own issues within our marriage, dealing with the death of family members, infertility, losing pregnancies and now a very trying special needs child. All of this on top of the "baggage" we both brought into our marriage. Interestingly we are also coming up on our 14th anniversary in a few months. This is a song that touches me with its lyrics and it reminds me of us, two broken souls needing healing, being inclined to stay together. With God's help we can hold each other up, because we were meant to BE. God bless you both, you are a beautiful couple, inside and out. Casting Crowns, Broken Together. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAAvPDgKf30
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