I have been to hell…many times. My hell is not a place, but a state of mind. It’s the experience of your world caving in on you as you’re drowning in fear. I’m talking about heartbreak, betrayal, abandonment, loss of love, loss of loved ones, devastation, inconsolable depression and profound pain. I’ve been there.
As I’ve shared on this blog already, my mother passed away when I was 18, I was in a physically and mentally abusive marriage with a man who cheated on me, having multiple extramarital affairs during our short marriage, and I’ve also anguished in regret and remorse, losing my best friend because of choices I forever wish I could do over. And there’s much, much more I’ve yet to share.
I know hell. So when I see the signs of others reaching out from hell, my heart breaks for them. I want to reach back. If there is any value in my time on earth, it is in loving, encouraging and lifting up others. This compulsion is never stronger than when I encounter others who are suffering in ways I know all too well. A glance at my analytics report this week revealed the following phrases have led strangers to my blog:
A husband has an affair – cheats on his wife – betrays his wedding vows. A husband decides he no longer wants to be married – leaves his wife for another woman – is in love with another woman. For a devoted wife whose world revolves around such a husband, this is hell. These keyword searches remind me that such pain is so prevalent. They remind me of my pain when on the receiving end of such betrayal. I’ve been to hell, and I survived. I survived.
I didn’t breeze through it. I didn’t pick myself up by the bootstraps and just move on. I didn’t find a miraculous way to overcome such heartbreak. I grieved. I anguished. I mourned. I longed to be loved more than the other woman. I poured out my heart in buckets of tears, crying for hours over months and months, unable to understand why my husband would hurt me like that…why he didn’t love me like he loved the other woman (women)…what was better about the other woman…what did she have that I didn’t have? These thoughts tortured me. TORTURED me. It was all I could do to just survive this walk through hell. I couldn’t see the future; I couldn’t muster up hope for a better life. All I could do was just survive hell. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t fast. But eventually, I did move on with my life to come a long, LONG way from that trip to hell.
One Googler asked: “When does life get easier after your husband leaves?” My answer to her is – when your life is no longer focused on that exact question. It takes time, a strong support system and a determination to focus on you. Build yourself up, shift your thinking from your (ex) husband and the pain he caused you to you – a new you – a future in which your focus is on a vision of who you want to be, what you want to do, what you have to offer the world. It may not seem like such a future can exist right now, but just hang in there. Get through this heartbreak. Survive. Then see if this question disappears.
Another Googler typed “When life leaves us with no choices.” This is the epitome of hopelessness. If you feel you have no choices, you’re bound by fear. In my world, fear and hell are synonymous. We always have choices. The only time we feel like we have no choices is when we box ourselves into a certain way of thinking. Having broken free from many a box, I speak from experience. You do have choices, but your fear may be paralyzing you from making choices. The term “think outside the box” is applicable here, but in a unique way. Break free from the chains that bind you. Whenever you feel that “life” leaves you with no choices, you need to look at your life and identify which part of your life is influencing that thinking (emotional, societal, familial, cultural, institutional). Choices are always there. You just may need to break free from old ways of thinking in order to see them. And the truth is, when you’re going through hell, this is the only way to get out.
When you get through hell, you made it through. You survived it. You’re on your way to thriving. Out of the ashes, the phoenix rises. Even when you can’t see them and don’t feel them, you still have wings. 
