This will be a lot less writing about my marriage and more spiritually based. I will consider this my public blog that I will promote. http://summerlynnsmith.wordpress.com/

I hope Xanga survives, as soon as I figure out what to do about that I will try and integrate myself back into this community. I can’t afford to migrate over for the time-being, but hope I can ‘reconnect’ soon.

Even if you have already messaged me your wordpress, I’d appreciate a comment with your wordpress link so I can go subscribe today, while I have the time and mindset to make sure it’s done!

I did an interview with my father to get all the details on his experience with Diabetes. I remember very clearly how I felt and what I saw him go through, but I knew I needed to ask the questions and hear his perspective. I wanted to iron out the facts, timeline and exactly how it has impacted his life. I wanted to tell his story:

 

My father remembers the year to be 1993; he was 28, near 29 years old. It was most likely a Sunday after church with friends and family that we ate an indulgent meal at Old Country Buffet topped off with bread pudding. (Oddly, I never remember that being a food my father ate.) Three days later Dad still had a relentless headache. Soon we would discover his sugar was in the 300′s.

When I asked my dad how he felt the moment the Doctor told him he had Type 2 Diabetes he shared the story of his 23 year old cousin who had recently passed from Diabetes (between 1990 and 1993). Mike left behind a 3 year old daughter. Instantly my father felt hopeless, overcome with fear and devastated by, what he considered, a death warrant.

I asked what the plan of action was to control and maintain his illness. At the time, he doesn’t recall the Doctor sharing a diet or exercise program or doing anything more than prescribing a pill, Glucotrol, to try and a tester to start monitoring his sugar level. The pill kept his sugar in the low 100′s. Sometime after his diagnosis, 3 or 4 years, he went to a vitamin store and the sales associate, Rick, opened his eyes to a clean diet, vitamins and natural sources to control his sugar.

During this time I remember the fear my father was imprisoned in. Diabetes has threatened his life, his ability at times to sufficiently care for his family. It took his peace of mind and put a fear of an early death at the forefront of his thoughts. He began seeing a wonderful counselor and doing his best to take control of his illness, his worry and outcome of his life. She helped him regain a healthy mindset and battle his anxiety.

There were very significant moments of victory and also moments that felt like rock bottom. I remember a day my dad had all of us kids the in car. Often, when he would feel overwhelmed physically by the illness and incapable of clearing his mind of fear, he would sing. There was a particular song we would all sing together to help calm his fears. All Hail King Jesus. I don’t remember where we were, but I remember him turning sharply into an ally way and driving way too fast. He was singing that song only much faster than the usual tempo. In those fear driven moments, it was hard to be of any comfort to my father. Though I so desperately wanted to rid him of his ailments.

In 2005 he started insulin. After 2 weeks of insulin it seemingly raised his sugar, to his recollection. There was a time where we believed he was healed. My father was drug and insulin free. He was maintaining a healthy diet and we believed God had blessed his obedience and care for his health with a complete healing. I remember the ups and downs of our faith and his diagnosis. I remember cheering him on and walking by his side. I remember the tears, the frustration and the ugly fear in his eyes. The fear that crippled a capable man. I may not have all the details just right, but the reality still exists that my father battles this disease daily and his family wars on with him.

So, as we have put Diabetes to the back of our minds the last few years and my father hasn’t spoken much about feeling ill, we’ve all stood fast in our faith proclaiming his healing. Eventually, his eyes begin to give him problems. His vision is blurry and we notice he has rapidly lost weight. Usually at a weight of 200-210, he is now 153lbs. Everyone starts asking if my dad is okay. We have all noticed that something looks wrong, even though we didn’t want to disturb his peace of mind. But, it is clear a doctor’s visit is needed. Now, his vision is worsening by the day. We learn he has retinopathy in his eyes. They are bleeding on the inside. The doctor says his sugar is in the 300′s and has been uncontrolled for too long, he loses his driver’s license, gets multiple laser treatments to stop the bleeding and has to see an eye doctor all too regularly.

Today my dad is insulin dependent. He is always in danger of losing his driving license again – his freedom, but more importantly, his vision as a whole. (The surgeries have helped reclaim some of his vision so he was able to regain his license.) The neuropathy in his feet scares him. The multiple family members fighting this illness and those who have passed from its complications serve as constant reminders that this battle is life-long and we can’t stop to let it win!

My father was near my age when he was diagnosed. I run, in part, to prevent diabetes. I run, in part, to keep my mind healthy and stave off the fears my father has battled. I run for many reasons, but this race… my very first marathon… I run for ALL that have fought and are fighting Diabetes!!!

I’ve compiled a list of family and friends as well as friends and family of friends. If you know someone you’d like to add to the list, please… I’d love to honor them and pray for them. I’m going to be wearing every last name on my shirt as I run my marathon to fight Diabetes.

 

 

His story is also now written on my marathon donations page: http://www.diabetesaction.org/goto/summerlynnsmith

This was a few days ago… I couldn’t get it to upload in time and them forgot about it.

I think he’s going to take it now though… we will see if he passed the aptitude test in the next 4-8 weeks.

I was driving home listening to my country radio station – because Country has the BEST love songs - and I got to thinking about my feelings. It’s been a little while now since I starting feeling romantically and physically attracted to my husband… as well as being emotionally connected. As those love songs play, I no longer feel sad that I’m missing out… I’m actually thinking of him, day dreaming about him and remembering as I miss him. =]

I’m not sure why this happened. I have felt moments where I was not ‘in love’, but this was different. WAY different. Whenever the flame fades, I can at least fall back on genuine love and rekindle romance. But, that wasn’t happening. I wasn’t able to do that. I was ready to walk, run… just get the hell out. As much as I knew I was hurting him, I couldn’t make myself feel anything. Again, I have no idea why it happened, which scares me a bit that I won’t be able to prevent it. 

Maybe, hopefully, this was just something to learn from. I’m a firm believer in life lessons first hand being the best way to grow and mature. The more you go through, the more you have to offer. Maybe there will be a time in our marriage where my husband goes through this and I will know that me loving him unconditionally will win him back, as he did with me. Maybe someone else will feel how I felt and I’ll be able to encourage them that it won’t last forever and help them build their relationship back to a place where romantic love can be cultivated. 

Today, I feel more hopeful in marriage than ever before. My fears that one day my husband will abandon me are so far gone… its kind of precious. I suppose over the years I’ve allowed some unhealthy fears into my heart concerning the constitution of marriage… I would even venture to say my in-laws divorce awakened those fearful thoughts. I’m amazed that Johnny didn’t bury himself in the painful rejection he was receiving and instead held tight to his love for me. It would have been easier to play the victim, to leave me to my own self destruction and cut me loose. He didn’t do that. He told me everyday that he loved me anyway. He gave me more than 100% in the house, with the children and in relationship even though my heart and response was cold and numb. 

You know, there may be multiple reasons our marriage faced this crisis. We may not be able to point out one, two or three things we did to end up in such a place. But, at the end of this season… one thing is for certain – Johnny loves me. This is probably the best feeling of love, acceptance and trust I’ve ever had. Even when my own father felt rejected by me after I ran off to get married, he rejected me. In his pain he pushed me away, spoke ill of me and left me to my own. I will never forget this painful time… I will never forget that Johnny would choose me all over again every single time!!!

It’s not easy to love someone who does not return your love in the same way or same measure… love them anyway.

LOVE FEARLESSLY… I know Johnny taught me more about love than he probably even realizes.

I’d like to take a video through my house… and let you guys be the judge of dirty.

Sometimes I think my husband is just ridiculous in his expectations of our home, our VERY lived in home of 2 rough toddler boys and dog that pee’s everywhere.

My solution, a chore chart. That is basically what he wants. He wants me to accountable. But you better freaking believe I will write down every last thing I did. and I will want credit for it when he realizes that just because I didn’t mop doesn’t mean I didn’t spend an hour bathing the kids, clipping little finger and toenails, and brushing teeth. 

Our home is run down since we had the kids. We used to enjoy fixing things up, making minor changes… it was fun and felt like our home.

I will gladly admit I don’t like to do dishes everyday… I prefer every other day or every 3rd day if I’m not home those days. Once the sink is full of RINSED dishes (and yes, occasionally both of us will just toss a nasty dish in the sink and forget about it) then the dishwasher can be loaded.

Remember, I’m a scatterbrain. Lists HELP me a lot. I forget to start the diswasher because I got distracted by my son flushing a toy down the toilet. I forget to switch the laundry even though its the only thing my husband asked me to do that day. (yes, he will randomly tell me 2 or 3 things to do to make him happy when he gets home – he does this crap too without asking what my plans are for the day… if I’m going to be out so when I’m woke up with a chore list and I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour or two it just agitates me.)

Yesterday i said, it’s the summer time… I’m going to make memories with my kids. dude, I could freaking live out of a tent in the summer. I have no need to be in an air conditioned box… the outdoors are my playground. The last thing I want to do is organize a closet when the sun is shining and the boys are spinning around like mini tornadoes. He said.. “This isn’t summer vacation.” OH OH… sorry, since my kids aren’t in school with summer breaks I’m not allowed to enjoy the beauty of the summer season? Ugh. I want to punch things again remembering it.

Look, I know I’m not a 10 in the house cleaning department, but I’m certainly sufficient. I always tell him to ask anyone he wants if they have ever seen my house dirty. he says that won’t work because I always clean for other people and not him. DUH. I do a little extra spicing up for company… but if someone says they are stopping by in a half hour and you have enough time to straighten the house enough to look really good, your house was NOT filthy to begin with!

He has never given me credit when I have maintained the home above and beyond… EVER. And he always says “you NEVER….” which indicates that I’ve just never done anything ever and he has always had to do it. Mind you, for 6 months… the whole summer to the end of January I watched 2 extra kids, sometimes I went there, but after 2 months I told her I had to do it in my house. So for at least 4 months my house was beyond clean and it was the hardest job I’ve ever done. Watching other people’s kids and cleaning my house multiple times a day. I was exhausted every day that I had them. He was mad about money when i quit, but it was just too much. I’ve worked before, going to work is WAY easier to maintaining a home and children, in my opinion.

I’ve also tried relentlessly to get the point across that I’m an entertainer. With his piss buddy around the house, I don’t invite people over. Johnny also is very edgy and weird about people so, we never have company… a part of my life I want and need that he disregards. I don’t think i have ever been a bad housewife. I don’t refuse to clean. I’m just spontaneous and forgetful and johnny is organized and ontime. I’m not lazy. i’m tired of being treated like I’m lazy and useless. 

I know i’m ranting quite a bit right now and I’ve got typos going on like crazy… I just need to right now.

I’ve been begging for a new couch, but Johnny won’t invest in one with the dog peeing everywhere… so the couch we have had for 7 years won’t get replaced until we get a new place or the dog dies? I need things to be refreshed often. And this place is looking like a dump. Not so much messy as in worn. The walls are getting marked up, dunged up… the floors are getting scratched, carpets stained. Chairs in the kitchen are stained now. Closet doors have been a joke since he put them up. The bathroon is musty. We think its the floor around the toilet… I think its the whole floor. But of course Johnny just says its because I don’t clean in there… but its because the kids have overflowed the toilet and get water on the floor during baths.

So what does a day look like when I’m home? It depends… I’m kind of sporadic. 

Usually: (but not all of this everyday, but the things that seem to occupy time)

• at least 1 meal cooked, sometimes 2 – snacks and easy foods between
• floors swept, usually multiple times
• clean up dog crap by the front door
• dishes (not every day, but usually the busiest time spent is in the kitchen)
• wiping down the couch, tables and floors of sticky toddler induced messes
• bathing, the kids and myself
• picking up toys ALL day

The things my husband wants me to do that I rarely get to:

• leaving the house spotless before we go anywhere (I want to, but end up late just trying to remember to grab the kids on the way out.)
• cleaning the bathtub (I hate cleaning the bathtub. I’ll clean the toilet anyday, hate the tub though.)
• cleaning under the couch
• putting clothes away (although the laundry is his job, he often leaves things for me to put away to see if I will.)
• organizing things like the kids toys, clothes and closests – just to keep ahead of the clutter
• making the bed (I’m just horrible at remembering to make the bed. I do it, but not always and I know its a big deal to him.)
• cleaning the kids room (I do do this, I just don’t notice how bad it is in there sometimes. Its a very SMALL room and always looks worse than it is.)
• take the garbage out (ugh, HIS job – period!)

The way I began looking at it was that he is the organizer, the behind the scenes tidyer-uper and I’m the on the scene immediate care. I spend the most time face to face with the children. they are my priority. Making sure they aren’t playing in dog pee and have clean clothes, dishes and room is important to me and we do NOT live in filth as my husband portrays. I may not be bleaching the tub everyweek and washing down walls, but I’m trying to at least maintain our space while we are here. And honestly, if the best I’ve given is only a C, I’m ok with that. Why? Because I enjoy my life, I enjoy the kids and cleaning is not at the top of my list of priorities. Cleaning up is, but not all the bells and whistle.

I’m sure I cannot change his mind. He thinks I’m a lazy slob. It pisses me off, it hurts me… it makes me want to run again. It seemed the very SECOND I started having feelings back for him, it turn on the criticism. I swear things are just easier when we ignore each other and do our own thing.

So, you might look at the list of things to do and think, that’s not too bad. You may even do more, like cleaning windows and washing drapes. I remember when it was just us and I enjoyed that type of cleaning.. but it just never seems that there is time for it. I’m always playing catch-up.

If you read all that – wow! Thanks!

 

 

Apparently all the work we’ve done hasn’t changed much.

He would probably say the same thing from his perspective.

Back to the criticism today. The last two days. Constant nagging. Greated with a kiss? Absolutely not… just a list of all the things my busy schedule kept me from. and YES, the waterpark for the boys was and IS on the schedule. It is the reason we bought season passes. It is for them. Memories. Activities… the things I didn’t get to do as a kid while my mom slept our youth away in her room.

I’m NOT lazy. I’m NOT dirty. I know DIRTY… I grew up in filth. I know lazy, I was raised by lazy.

Don’t you dare think you can treat me this way. 

It will NOT motivate me.

It will NOT change me.

It will NOT help anything.

It will push me away,

It will shut me down.

It will ruin me.

 

All this after his mother bails on us this week because she now has her 19 yr old single daughter living at home with a newborn and now my kids aren’t welcome while they ‘adjust’. More rejection. More pain. More frustration.

All this followed by him telling me if I don’t start cleaning more he will leave me. Yep… that’s right. Now that I’m trying my hardest to maintain an emotional, physical and romantic connection… let’s just start talking about leaving each other again. That will fix everything.

 

At this point. I want to punch things. I want to buy new things and make drastic changes to try and deal with the shitty feeling I’m left up to handle.

My children fell asleep to us yelling at each other. No story time… no snuggles.

 

So now I’m thinking about Xanga. I’m going to miss this place…. the fact that you guys know my story… that I have somewhere to turn through the ups and downs on the same garbage.

 

Totally bummed.

 

 

 

I worry he is too hurt.

(it is weird that now when I say he, I know he’s a part of the audience reading this… whereas before, it was just a ‘possibility’ that he would read.)

Johnny had a few drinks last night. His insecurities rose to the surface pretty quickly, and while I knew that it was the alcohol, the pain was obviously something he feels and just works through when he’s sober minded. It actually reminded me of the night I went out and got so drunk my sister had to make me leave the bar before I got any closer to some guy that I blatantly told: “You started getting more attractive after my 5th drink.” I’m not a fan of alcohol, but the last couple of years it has seemed to find its way into our lives. It also seems that if you’re having a relaxing glass of wine and your heart is light and free – life is good and just gets better… but if you are bummed, pissed off or just plain depressed, a drink leads to drunk pretty fast in a pool of your own puke crying and saying things you’d haven’t the courage to admit otherwise.

Back to remembering the night I came home a hot mess… I was so angry with Johnny when I left, I could have cared less if it ended that night. I was blinded by hurt, rejection and fear of more hurt and rejection. The thing I remembered the most after listening to Johnny cry on the way home last night, was the few short minutes in my driveway when my sister brought me back… when we pulled in I had just realized she brought me home and I panicked. I didn’t want to go in and see him. I knew the only thing I wanted to do was end it. She started crying too and apologized for not knowing how much pain I was in the last few years. It hit me harder, my sister was sober and not a cryer. In fact, when I start crying she usually tells me to dry it up and stop being dramatic. It felt significant, even in my drunk state of mind, that she validated my pain.

That night sucked in the long run pretty bad, and I’m still trying to establish trust, but my lack of affection and romantic feelings were really making that darn near impossible. 

I’m happy to say that its been a good part of a week and I still feel our connection growing.

I’m not totally sure where I was going with this…

So, I’ll just go somewhere else.

The other night when things started shifting, I felt the Lord revealing some significant things in my heart. I feel a little lack-luster in my writing so I hope I do it justice and my words don’t fall flat. I started to feel myself warming again. Resentment was fading and I was melted by Johnny’s persistence of my love, but mostly his acknowledgement that whether I loved him or not he would love me forever. That is a hard thing to believe… but I did, I do. I felt the Lord parallel His love for me in Johnny’s response. I remember feeling this deep unconditional acceptance, unlike what I have received from Johnny before. A scripture came to mind: Ephesians 5:25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her.

Johnny may have taken things in our marriage for granted… he may not have been mature enough to understand how to communicate love in a way that made sense or fulfilled me, but after all this – after the pain I know my rejection caused him… there is not a doubt in my mind that when he says he loves me, when he says I’m the only one he wants, when he says he’s attracted to me, when he says I’m his best friend, when he says he misses me, when he says he wants me… he means it. I’ve nearly left. I’ve threatened a covenant bond. I’ve tried to reason. I’ve given up. He didn’t. Even when his heart was broken and I couldn’t return to him what he deserved. 

When our kids move out and start families of their own, and Johnny and I are settling in life as empty nesters… I hope I never forget this time in our lives where his love saved me, saved our family.

 

After a pretty bad feud in the middle of the night… this morning went a little like this (the conversation was of course much longer but here is the gist):

 

Me: I hate you.

Johnny: then leave.

Johnny: But I’m still in love with you.

 

Something just clicked. I’m not sure what and I don’t want to overthink it. 

I just remember I felt like I was dying… like losing him today would kill me. And, truthfully, I think part of me would die forever.

I started flashing through our relationship. All the things I would miss… how I would essentially just miss him, his smell… his touch… his voice. Watching him walk, hearing him laugh. I’d miss the sincerity in his eyes. I’d mostly miss how soft and gentle his hands are. He has the softest hands. They are perfect from the length of his fingers, the shape of his palms to the freckles! 

Suddenly, I wanted to change everything. I wanted to run to him and see if I could see his love in his eyes… if I could remember the innocence of our first time holding hands and the exact feeling I used to get years and years later when he would grab my hand in the car.

Being a little hard and cynical, I want to test and try it… I need to feel it tangibly…

We are exchanging texts all morning.

I start to realize that I’ve never really felt chosen. I’ve never felt like he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I suppose I hid in my heart an insecurity that he was only with me because I’m just the type that drags people along for the ride…

He will never know how special this painful time has been in revealing that he can and will love me through anything. That he actually does love me, me… me? That I didn’t pick him, we picked each other. I didn’t just scoop him up and make him marry me, he chose me. 

I don’t want to talk about what lead here or if there is anything more ‘healing’ blah blah blah… the whole last year as been about trying to figure out what is wrong…

I’m just going to enjoy this moment.

 

Also, being the totally unprivate person I am… I couldn’t keep the discovery of my husband’s blog @intelligence101 a secret for long!

I just couldn’t keep it in and asked him when he’s blogging again because I’ve been waiting to read =]

 

Says he’s going to blog more… so check him out. 

You’ve read our story from my perspective… you’ve cheered me on, cyber hugged me and prayed for us. You’ve wanted to punch him, you’ve wanted to shake me straight… and you’ve wanted a happy ending… right?

I think it’s kind of neat that the end of xanga (which really could just be a rebirth or renewal) may just be the same time-frame that my marriage makes a turn for the better…

I kind of wish we could afford those subscriptions now =/

Today is rough.

There are moments I almost forget to feel. I have to remind myself that turning off my emotions won’t help anyone.

I’m content to be busy right now. 

But, then the evening comes… and that awkward hour before bed when he asks me if I love him again. My eyes glaze over, a lump grows in my throat and I say yes, of course… but we both know he is asking if I’ve fallen in love again.

Intimacy is difficult, unless I’m just really turned on. I know TMI. But it’s the truth. It’s difficult to be intimate when I’m just not sure how or why I don’t have feelings anymore.

Why can’t I be proud of him? Why am I not happy with being Mrs. Smith? His last name used to make me feel so special. His presence in the room gave me confidence. Now, I just feel guilt.

 

I’m guilty. I’ve failed him. I have no answers. All I know is it’s gone. It’s gone and I’m looking everywhere…

 

I’ve looked in the past,

I’ve looked to prayer.

I’ve read articles, blogs and books.

I’ve searched for testimonies and hopeful tips for loving again.

I’d shared my story looking for similar feelings and encouragement.

I’ve been honest.

I’ve been raw and transparent.

I’ve been scared.

I’ve been hopeful.

I’ve cried.

I’ve smiled still.

I’ve remembered…

 

but nothing has brought back what I once had.

 

Maybe it shouldn’t… maybe something new is coming for us

Maybe this is happening for a reason.

Maybe it’s only rough for a season.

 

I’m a broken woman, breaking the spirit of what was once the best thing that ever happened to me.

 

While he didn’t deserve to feel this way, I didn’t ask for it either.