I was going to publish a post about fear and then I changed my mind. I may talk about fear sometime in the future. However, two things happened today that made me change my mind. One of them is the topic for this post. The other one, the sermon at Mass. But let’s get to it, shall we?
I found this book by chance while grocery shopping at the supermarket. It was on a shelf not in the books section of the store, but amongst some other merchandise where it clearly didn’t belong. Some other person might have left it there after changing his or her mind and deciding not to buy it, which allowed for me to happen upon it. Those are the kind of things that make me think that God can sometimes act in mysterious but yet simple ways.
I don’t know if this is a normal thing with narcissists, but my husband never finishes a task or project. I mean, my understanding of finishing a project or task includes picking after yourself, especially when it can affect other people. My husband would start a project, sometimes months after he said that he was going to start it, it would take him several days to get through it when it could have been completed in one afternoon, and then he would leave tools, trash, and everything else all over the place, for weeks.
The title for this post might not be the kind of title you would expect on a blog about surviving Narcissistic Personality Disorder abuse. But that is precisely what I have realized this past weekend.
That’s what my husband, the narcissist, is accusing me of and on what he’s basing the whole divorce petition. Of being an extremely controlling person. It’s interesting how they accuse you of the very things they do to you. This past weekend, I remember how I would not even get to be by myself when I needed it, even in the bathroom.
In a previous post, I shared how I signed up for a gym after my attorney had made me promised that I would start to do something for myself every day, even if it was just for 10 minutes. I was so excited. I had a great week that week when I finally was able to get back to the gym. And then… everything started to happen.
I’ve been thinking a lot about faith lately, not just about during the saddest and most confusing times of my marriage, but in general, since I can remember.
Going through the divorce has made me question a lot of things, about my beliefs, how I was raised as a Catholic, how the nuns at my school taught us about God, how my family taught me about God and the Virgin Mary and everything we Catholics believe in, and more.
I have been wanting to go back to church for the longest time. Since meeting my husband, I slowly started to not attend Mass anymore. He’s not a Catholic like me and he doesn’t really profess any faith. And I was okay with that, since I have always believed that we all have our own individual paths to walk when it comes to faith and religion. The way I see it, it will be between each one of us and God on the Day of the Final Judgment and we individually will have to be accountable for our actions or lack thereof.
I was listening to the Catholic radio on Sirius XM the other day on my way back from work. they were talking about the abuse in the Church. I don’t know which radio program was. I don’t listen to that station that frequently. But once in a while I catch some topic that sparks my curiosity and I stop browsing stations.