A New Journey

On January 9, 2013 I walked into the court room in Mesa where my divorce hearing was scheduled to take place. I looked around and noticed how many strangers were there. Strangers that would soon know details of my marriage and separation that my closest family did not know.
I took my seat and waited, as instructed.
I started wondering what sort of questions I would be asked. I thought about what I might have to divulge and share with this room of people that I had done my best to bury as deep in my mind as I could. That's when I started shaking. It always starts with my hands, then my arms start to tremble, and then my teeth start chattering. I begged my body to stop and stay calm. I had been doing this more and more lately and it was as irritating as it was frightening.
I tried to control my breathing and calm my heart that was threatening to explode. Fear and anxiety set in, and I started to cry.
I excused myself and went to the restroom. I sat in the furthest stall and cried and shook and allowed myself to drown in whatever was taking over my body. I felt light headed and wanted to just pass out and escape what I was feeling! I leaned against the wall and prayed harder than I had in months. I felt so alone. So scared. And I felt physical pain I couldn't describe or explain.
My phone buzzed in my purse, so I fumbled around to find it and when I pulled it out saw that I had missed a call. I can't tell you who the call was from, I don't remember now, but what I do remember is the wallpaper on my phone that looked up at me.

 

I immediately felt so overwhelmed with love and the need to protect these boys. Everything else slowly came into focus and I started to pray for them.

What I had experienced years before this point was excruciating. I tried so hard to protect them from it all. To keep them outside of the hell I lived in. Now, I had created a hell for them they couldn't understand....yet. They had been moved from all they knew. All they loved. And it was my fault.

They knew that we moved for our safety. They knew like I did in their minds that it was necessary, but our hearts ached for a life we could exist in as a family that was whole, and unbroken.

I prayed for their hearts, and I prayed for their minds. I prayed that they would feel my love for them and know somehow, someday that everything I was keeping from them or protecting them from, was for their safety and their ultimate emotional, mental and physical survival. I prayed they wouldn't hate me!

I had only spent 5 minutes in the restroom, but it felt like an hour. I touched up my now ruined makeup and walked back into the courtroom. I was still shaking, but felt peace and comfort knowing I was doing the right thing.

When they called my name and asked me to proceed to the front of the courtroom, my sweet uncle Bern, who was representing me (and did a fantastic job) sat next to me and gave me a squeeze. He stood and started a professional dialog with the judge that was law jargon I didn't understand at first. I was SO grateful he was there! He told the judge what I was asking for in terms of child support, custody and other terms in the petition. When the judge turned to me and asked me if I wanted sole custody of my children, the realness of it all slapped me hard. I swallowed and squeaked out, "yes, I do."

"Do you understand what sole custody means?'

"Yes, your honor. I do."

"I need to determine if this is necessary, so you'll need to answer some questions for me."

This is what I was dreading. Reliving what I had done my best to hide from.

He asked me a series of questions about my husband, his addiction, his reluctance to sign paperwork, but his lack of showing any concern by not attending or having taken classes as we were both instructed to by law. His last question left me feeling like I'd been socked in the stomach. It was the very question I dreaded most.

"Miss Cook, tell me why you moved your children away from their father last April."

In a few words I had to explain why I made one of the most painful and heartbreaking decisions of my life. A decision that I never EVER thought I would be making.

"Your honor, he threatened me and my life to a point where I was afraid he would follow through. I left the state with help from my family to find safety. That became my first priority."

There was a series of more questions, more answers that brought up everything I'd been stuffing, and I was exhausted by the end of it all.

The total time we were in front of the judge was close to 17 min. I was sure it had been 3 hours.

He asked me if I wanted to return to my maiden name since none of my legal documentation had ever been changed to Cook. I said yes.

He then declared sole custody to me, that my name was legally in all ways returned to Gibbons, and that I was no longer married.

That's it. Over. Done.

My marriage was over, but the wounds were still fresh for my boys and I.

There's no way to describe that year of my life. It was like I was living in a horrible dream. A nightmare. And yet there were angels in my life, and people that surrounded the boys and I with love and support.

I came to understand that my marriage had been made up of lies we both told. I lied to myself, and everyone else, that things were ok. That they would get better. That I was over sensitive, over reactive and over emotional. That I was the bigger part of the problem in my marriage. This was part of the manipulation I had been experiencing for years. Anything that happened always came back to blame me.

He wouldn't take drugs if I wasn't so hard to live with. He wouldn't get so angry if I'd just leave him alone and stop questioning him. He wouldn't feel the need to cheat if I wasn't such a nag or so disgusting to him. He wouldn't call me a bitch if I didn't act like one. And it goes on.

What I need to say here is crucial! My intent is not to paint an angel halo around my head while painting devil horns on the man I once loved and who is the father of our amazing boys. Anyone who has lived in any type of abusive relationship will tell you that they often stooped to the level of the abuser in an effort to show independence and the ability to fight back. Fighting fire with fire, if you will. And I often did this in attempt to stop the hurt, the cycle and sometimes just so I wasn't the only one hurting. It's an ongoing selfish and disturbing way to live.

I have described living with psychopathic behavior and addiction as though you're fighting getting sucked into a black hole. Sometimes it's stronger and pulls harder. Other times is manageable and you can feel the pull but you can withstand it. But it's always there.

I can honesty say that I've never regretted my decision to leave that unhealthy situation. I have cried, I have hurt, and I have mourned significantly for a man, and a life that I thought I knew and thought I could save on my own.

I don't want to go into details about my fast flee to Arizona. There are family members that were a part of that process who saw and experienced how important that decision was for my boys and I.

I don't believe that my ex-husband was in a healthy state of mind, however it doesn't excuse anything either. I have never been so distraught, wounded or terrified than I was on that early Saturday morning when I realized how truly in danger I was. How truly horrific my life had become.

The more boundaries I had put in place, and the more healthy distance I tried to create between myself and my ex-husband, the more hostel and aggressive he became. Though we were separated, the boundaries were ignored and crossed over and over again and my life became a mess of untruths, distortions, accusations and flat out lies which came as an effort to further manipulate.

had I not had family support that day, that encouraged me to finally let go and stop trying to excuse and cover up the abuse, I have no doubt that the outcome would have been one that left me or my boys suffering beyond comprehension.

In an effort to continue to explain my experiences with PTSD, addiction, depression, CODEPENDENCY and anxiety (among others), it felt necessary for me to give a somewhat clearer picture of SOME of what I experienced. That being said I am NOT a victim. I made choices, good and bad, that impacted everything that happened. I refuse to have a victim mentality or self image that encourages victimization.

No one is perfect. I have made more mistakes than I can count in a lifetime. And if I didn't have the hope and the knowledge of the Atonement of my Savior, I don't know that I would still be here.

I have a deep love and abiding respect for my entire Cook family! Peter included. They are my family forever and I am ever so grateful and appreciative of their love and support for the boys and I. Their patience and fortitude with all that they have experienced leaves me in awe. I don't know what I would do without their examples of faith and endurance!

There are so many women, and men, that experience psychological abuse from loved ones.  And most the time you don't know it's happening until you feel like you are going crazy. No path, no direction, no decision seems clear. You live in confusion and constant turmoil. Living only to survive, but not really experiencing life!!

If you relate to this, or know of someone who is experiencing abuse, please let them know they are NOT alone. Sometimes it means life or death. And sometimes its the difference of being able to strongly set boundaries and reclaim their un-dependence.

As Gordon B. Hinkley said, "life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."

 

 

I still pray for these sweet strong boys of mine daily! We have come so far and become more aware of our need to be open and honest about the things we feel and experience. And the things we experienced before the chaos of addiction and abuse in our home. They are magnificent examples of forgiveness and strength for me in my life! They are my WHY!! They are why I choose to follow my heart and my dreams. They are why I get up, keep moving and keep smiling through the pain of recovery. Though we all experience symptoms of PTSD and anxiety, they continue to help me patiently through mine. When I wake up from a terror and one of them has to sleep on my floor in my bed. When I have an episode and can't drive and we are stuck in the car, in the parking lot until I can calm down. They are always there to support and love me through it all.

Some might say that it's horrible to subject my children to that "dysfunction." (Ive actually been told that.) But I would like to suggest that if more of our youth could see pain, and suffering, and instead of being selfishly offended or hurt by it, take the time to show compassion, and understanding, rather than fear and disgust we wouldn't be hearing about so much bullying and terrorizing in our schools, or in  our society as a whole. So much of our problem as a society today is that our children are growing up without understanding the value of LIFE. They don't know what compassion is or how crucial it is to having any kind of pure love and peace in this life.

Now that my ranting on that is over, I'm going to end this rather heavy post. It's not in my nature to be heavy, or focus on the bad or sad things in life, mine or anyone else's. But I can't bury and pretend anymore either. So as heavy as it may have been write, and I'm sure to read as well, it has been healing for me! Liberating and scary at the same time! But I look forward to the peace that will continue to come through expressing my thoughts and feelings here.

Please comment and share. I welcome all comments and suggestions, even if they aren't in favor of my writing. ;)

Have a beautiful Sunday!

The quote I will leave with today is this:

"..Wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be, you are not forgotten. No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, he loves you with an infinite love."

-Dieter F. Uchtdorf