Picking Up the Peaces

I know it's been a while since I've posted. I've been thinking about all the buried feelings I have and trying to figure out how to dig them out. One night, I actually wrote this in my journal (I haven't been much of a journal-er): The mighty towers loom around me. The Redwood-thick walls protect me. I feel trapped. Every time I open the gate of the mighty fortress, a siege awaits me. I keep opening the gate and my wounds are multiplying. They start to heal and I open the gate again. The wounds are getting deeper. They start to heal so I open the gate again. The wounds become infected. I close the gate. I need time to recover and heal. I keep the gate closed. There's a gentle knock at the gate. I'm terrified to open it. The knock comes again. Dare I open it once again? I climb to the top of the wall and look down. It is The Physician. It is the Master Healer. It is the Savior. I know He wants to help me. I know He wants to heal ...

For anyone who gets that reference... 100 points to you! Another disclosure Recently, I found out that my husband had lied about something only a few months ago. That's right, when he was supposed to be doing better in recovery, he was keeping this secret. Now, it wasn't about pornography or masturbation or anything of the sort, so he's still sober. This was something different. This was something that was important to me. This was something I flat out asked him if he'd done, and he'd said he had. Turns out, he never did it.  See, my husband is extremely confrontation avoidant, even the therapist says so. He avoids confrontation like the plague, if he can. In his mind, if there is confrontation or contention, then the relationship, no matter what it is, will end. This is actually funny to me because if this were true, then our relationship would have ended the day before we got married. If this were true, our marriage would have ended over and over and ove...