Dishwasher Part 1

 Something like nine years ago, we redid our kitchen, main bathroom and living room. When we did this, we got new appliances. One was a stainless steel dishwasher my spouse (now former spouse) picked up for song. He had to drive 40 minutes up and down a mountain canyon, but he got a dishwasher for something like $250. It was insanely cheap even at the time. 

He installed the dishwasher even running to the store to get additional parts. Then we ran it. And the dishes came out dirty. "We can't keep this," I remember tell him. "It has to be returned." But it was installed, the canyon, etc. all made Wendell unwilling to return the dishwasher. So for nine, long years I've dealt with a dishwasher that does not clean the dishes. Several things had broken down over the years and Wendell dutifully replaced the upper washer arm and the door that held the soap. But after he'd moved out, the dishwasher started breaking down again. Nearly half of the bottom rack would not clean anything. An error message was a permeant part of the display. 

One of the things my former spouse was good at, is researching quality appliances. But so is my mom. I had neither the time nor the interest in doing the necessary research and delegated this responsibility to her. My mom happily took up the task and as the spots in the dishwasher that did not clean grew, my mom texted me the results. She had three machines she recommended. All could be purchased at a local home improvement store for somewhere between $550 and $800. 

In the final straw, the dishwasher began leaking.  It's final Sunday a pretty good sized puddle got the attention of our young cat, Smokey. Getting his attention, drew my attention. At that point the dishwasher was turned off and became an expensive drying rack. It was time to go shopping. 

I Chose Me

 I've be browsing around my blog looking at old posts and I found one called Choosing Me. It was late 2014--eight and half years ago--and I lamented that I felt a press to do something bigger with my life. I wanted to go to grad school. I wanted to get a job. I wanted to pursue my dreams. 

Looking back, I think God was nudging me. I was in what would ultimately been the best years of my marriage. But they didn't last. Certainly by 2016 I was seeing behaviors in my spouse that I knew had been trouble for us in years past. I knew would be trouble for us in the future. I begged him to prioritize things of the spirit, our family, our marital relationship. But he'd gotten comfortably complacent--something that anyone with an addictive personality cannot do. 

And the press from God came stronger. I started prepping for the GRE. I researched grad schools. I took the GRE. I applied for grad school. I was accepted. I plowed through course work. I got excited about my thesis. And one day after another, I chose me. 

And all the things I worried about did not happen. The kids stepped up and did the dishes. The house was often not tidy and no one died of it. My spouse took over laundry and grocery shopping. And I took time for me. 

In Feb 2022 when my life blew up and I stood among the shattered pieces. I was not the woman of 2014. I was stronger. I was in graduate school. I had finished my course work. I could see the end of the tunnel on my thesis. I had put money in savings in my name only for such an occasion as this. 

Even when my spouse (figuratively) lit a bomb to our family life and home, I was in a place where I could take the kids by the hands and walk away. Rebuild. The bomb going off did waylay by graduation, postponing it at least a semester. But graduate I did. Just over two months afterward, I had a job that is a perfect fit and I'm so happy about. 

God had prepared me for this. He could see this coming. He warned me. And I wasn't stuck. I was as ready as I could be. So when God said it was time to go--that I should get to safety--I could go. 

I will forever be grateful that I listened to that nagging. That I took action. When I learned my spouse no longer cared about my health or my life, I loved myself enough to move to safety. I cared about me. I loved me. I would protect me. 

Having followed God's promptings, I was prepared to walk away. I'm so grateful that God loved me enough to help me choose me. And I'm grateful I acted on those feelings and chose me. 

Surreal

 Part of my life feels like I'm living in the Twilight Zone. Strange. Fictional. And yet, there's a beauty to my current life that was missing in my previous one. 

I recently read through my Jan 2021 blog post about my sleep goal. And how proud I was to get to sleep at 11:30pm for most of January. I will tell you that the goal didn't hold. By the end of 2021 I was going to bed at midnight on the regular. And Wendell continued to resist to visit with me. That's not why we got divorced, but it's interesting that it was a symptom of much deeper problems that I felt, but could never put my finger on. Until my world was upended in February 2022 with news that shocked me to the core. Shocked the kids. I had thought I knew who my husband was. Turns out, I didn't know him at all--a strange thing to say after 25 years of marriage.

And thus the Twilight Zone sensation. 

What's interesting is how different my life is now. Here's a few things that are notably different. 

1) I go to bed before 11:00pm every night. It's very, very rare for me to be up that late. 

2) I rarely watch TV. That was Wendell's thing and so it was our thing to do together. I have always thought of it as pretty lame. Now that I don't feel pressure to watch TV, I don't. 

3) My house is in order. I didn't put it in order by myself. With the help of my ministering sisters and another dear friend, we got my bedroom, living room, and kitchen in order (in that order). My room remains tidy. My living room remains tidy. My kitchen ebbs and flows a little more, but it's been remarkable. 

I am a huge subscriber of the thought that you have to throw things out/give away things in order to really tidy up. And all of a sudden, I'm the only decision maker. I don't have to run anything past anyone. I just decide. 

This one is particularly strange to me. If you'd sat Wendell and me down in January and asked why our house was a mess, we would have both said that it was me. I was the reason our house wasn't in order. This was my personal failing. And yet, once things are set in order, I'm easily keeping them that way. And I don't know why this is so easy. But it is. And I wonder if that limiting belief--that I couldn't keep a tidy home--was ever mine. Or if it's just something I picked up and it wasn't true. I've believed it for 25 years. But I have so much evidence already that it is false. 

4) I'm getting the best sleep of my life. Literally why do we share beds/bedrooms with spouses? It is complete bliss to never be awakened in my sleep by someone snoring, rolling over, getting bumped or kicked. I don't worry when I make my 4:00am bathroom run. I never have to worry about the covers (am I sharing, is he too hot or too cold, will I get blamed in the morning). It is amazing. Everyone should try it. 

5) I am making tough decisions, fixing household items and learning to reach out to new resources all by myself. It's interesting how when a spouse has certain limiting thoughts about you, that over time you adopt those thoughts. I can't drive on road trips. I can't fix household things. I can't keep a tidy home. None of these started with me. I wasn't raised this way. But over time I believed each of these things with intense surety. They were all false. I have within me the ability to do anything I need to. 

Just the other day, the kids were at school and I walked around my house amazed at how tidy everything was. Everything has a place. It feels like I'm living someone else's life. Yet it's mine. My beautiful life. I didn't even know it was possible. 

New Family

 In February, my life was completely upended. Literally, it felt like being upside down. I couldn't breathe.  I just walked around with my hand over my heart, tapping it periodically, to try to keep me breathing. Wendell moved out on February 17 and by the 18th we had jointly decided to divorce. 

The last two months have been among the hardest of my life. But I'm slowly getting my bearings. I have taken over tons of things that used to be "Wendell's job" including some that would surprise him that they were "his" job. But I'm getting rather proud of the things I've done by myself.

• Getting air in my tires
• Taking my car through a car wash
• Getting an oil change
• Getting new family pictures taken with just me and kids
• Buying a lovely, comfortable chair for my room
• Buying new decor for my room (thanks to my amazing sisters)
• Going out with friends on the weekends

I'm starting to feel happy by myself and even look forward to the life I can create on my own. I'm being stretched, which hurts, but I'm also learning. And I love learning.