it’s been a little

and let me tell you why. First of all, I am going through a divorce. I have never felt so humiliated and ridiculous and stupid. I can’t even explain why I am embarrassed to show up here and talk about this. I know, I know . . I could talk about something else. Right? Wrong. I’m totally consumed by just how much this whole process has consumed me.

I seriously would have stuck it out. I remember having a ‘memory’ on FB pop up in January 2018 and it was from three years prior in 2015. At that time I realized Leonard was smoking meth and had several girlfriends, and yet I said something like, “28 years and we’re still together! It’s been really, really rough at times, but I’m in this for the long haul” … something like that.

I did not want a divorce. I did not want to go through a divorce.

I thought I could just live my life and he could do his thing. Indefinitely. I could find joy and happiness in the things I love: my family, my religion, my job, my friends, my hobbies and interests. There was much joy in all of those. I went to work each day and put on a smile. I enjoyed so many things. And then I came home and put up my guard, layered myself in lots of boundaries and protection, and somehow survived another evening/night.

I did not want a divorce. I did not want to go through a divorce.

Then one day, three years later, I said, “Leonard, you have got to stop smoking in the house. It is making me physically sick. My oxygen is low.” He said, “I can do whatever I want. It’s my house.” I said, “Then I’ll have to get a protection or restraining order because your smoking is killing me.” He said, “Fine, I’ll quit smoking in the house.” Two days later he was doing it again. Never mind that he locked his bedroom door, texted girlfriends day and night, had internet and phone s3x, smoked meth and now heroin, lied about going to CA, got arrested, drove off without paying Maverick, shoplifted at Shopko, totaled his truck and then drove through the back of the garage, then drove his unlicensed and uninsured car when completely impaired out on the highway and blew up the radiator. Never mind that he threatened me and bullied me and tried to intimidate, control, and manipulate me.

It was, in the end, the oxygen.

And now, after the restraining order, the search and seizure of drugs and heroin, the jail time . . . I finally have oxygen. Lots of it. I can breath. I can take wonderfully long and deep breaths. My oximeter registers in the mid to high 90s all the time!

And there’s been a measurable difference to my heart, as well. I am loving my life. The other day I felt like, for the first time in a long time, I am actually thriving. I am happy and productive and optimistic. I’ve been praying more and going to the temple, riding my bike, or taking a long walk, reading scriptures, listening to President Nelson’s 75 talks, listening to BYU devotionals, studying my Sunday lessons, working on my sacrament bulletin, working in the yard, cleaning up junk and more junk and, yes, even more junk. There’s been a whole lot of it around and I’m feeling like junk is a metaphor for my life. And now there’s not quite so much of it around here anymore.

It’s a start.

And I deserve it.