I can’t explain the anguish caused by the response to my “any hope” email. My good friend Emily sent me this video. I could not believe it. Was @drdougweiss watching my life for the past 13 years?? This was totally my marriage. I felt so released, realizing it wasn’t just me. It’s an actual diagnosis. I knew it changed nothing, and that I couldn’t send it to my husband, because he doesn’t have an ear to hear, especially from me. And he’s no longer my ministry. But I reached out anyway to them.
Here’s my email.
And here was the response I received today.
Talk about cut to the quick. In hindsight, I wonder if that were written by a therapist or just a receptionist, because it’s not very “psychologist.” But it doesn’t matter. It served its purpose. It splintered my sliver. Imagine the crushing weight of losing all hope. And that’s what I felt.
And yet I had to persist. I made myself play soccer/rock-paper-scissors/play-doh/watch a movie. And once more, I told God, “This is too heavy for me, so I’m giving it to You. You carry it for me.”
The kids and I spent the evening watching “Dolphin Tale,” my heart breaking all the while. I could hardly bear it. My son could not understand why I couldn’t be at Thanksgiving with his dad’s family. I had already explained that when 2 people are no longer married, they can’t keep acting like they are. So I expanded now to say when I still love him, and he doesn’t love me, it’s really hard to be there. And with a startled look on her face, my 4‑yo daughter asked, “Dada doesn’t love you anymore?”
I felt like it was such a huge mistake on my part. We’ve both worked to teach her no matter what she does or what mood she’s in, we always love her. Have I just planted a weed in that garden? Will she now doubt if we’ll always love her, since her dad’s love for Mom could end so seemingly abruptly?