At first I was okay with it. Alright, whatever is gonna happen let it happen. Then a conversation send me into a whirlwind. We are coming to town on October 3rd for a hockey game. I am so excited about this hockey game. Grandma said Grandpa was going to be endowed that weekend. Okay. I assumed Saturday. Then she told me Friday. Me, "Well if it's on Friday Brad will have to take the day off of work to make sure we're here!" I thought, maybe this is my way out of it and added, "don't worry about us making it. I don't want him to take a day off work. If we can't make it oh well!". Grandma told me I HAD to be there. That's when my emotions started pouring out. I left the room to be alone. No matter how hard I tried I could not stop crying. The words he called me kept swirling through my mind, "worthless, dumb, fat, ugly, b****, evil", that guy is going through the temple?!? Really!?!?!? I accepted his baptism. I never did allow myself to think about him going through the temple. Honestly, I never thought it would happen in this life. Even if I thought it might happen I was not expecting these emotions!
Brad came into our room and I told him, "I know I'm being ridiculous. I shouldn't be upset, or mad or feeling hurt." Brad, who compliments me perfectly said, "You're fine. Just let yourself feel whatever emotions come and don't feel like you need to bury them."
I finally pulled myself together and went back out to eat lunch. I walked into the kitchen and mom was putting together a meatball sub. Normally I love them... As I walked over to make one, mom handed the one she made to me and said she was going to eat later. I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I took it and sat down. Maybe I'm just way too picky, but I like my meatball subs with just a few meatballs, lots of sauce and no cheese. I sat there staring at it for a minute, lots of meatballs, a little sauce and lots of cheese! Yuck. I took a bit or two, but didn't like the cheese. I was already mad, now this really pissed me off. I open it up and scrapped all the cheese off. I went over to the sink to wash my hand and Brad asked what the heck I was doing. The only words I could muster out was, "just let me be mad!". I went to the family room where no one could see me crying (again). Brad came in and looking kind of confused. I told him, "Growing up I wasn't allowed to have an opinion. I couldn't have food I liked and had to eat food I disliked, I had to like whatever they told me I was to like. Now I'm a grown up and I'm being forced to eat something I don't like yet again, just because they said so!" It was like they rubbed salt in my open wound, one that was already hurting a lot. I'm sure I've already said this before, but it's the best example I have of how little my opinion mattered. It was my 18th or 19th birthday and my parents asked me where I wanted to go for dinner. It was tradition that you got to pick where or what to eat on your birthday. I told Grandpa PF Changs. His response, "No you don't. You want Olive Garden!". We did end up going to PF Changs, but I had to convince Grandpa that it was in fact where I wanted to go on my birthday!
After lunch I started feeling better about the whole situation. I know that whatever he does or doesn't do is his own eternal problem. I can't even explain WHY I feel so hurt or upset about him going through the temple. I just do.
I try not to be judgemental of him, but I can't help but notice things. Even Hayley asked me a while ago if I think Grandpa still drinks, yes, yes I do! Saturday night at dinner Grandma asked me, "Do you see that?" Me, "no, what?" "Grandpa is stumbling around. He can't seem to walk straight. He could barely get out of the car." I didn't want to say it but I was thinking it, he is drunk! Grandma excused it saying, he must not feel good. I can't remember if it was before or after that when I thought I smelled alcohol on his breath. I told Brad on our way home about a pattern I have noticed. When I have felt like he is in fact sober, he is happier, nicer, and I will see him drink things like water and soda. Every time I think, just maybe, he has been drinking I can smell alcohol, he is grumpier than usual and I never see him drink anything whatsoever! Weird right?
I know it is not my problem. I keep reminding myself about that. Now, not to sound mean, but one of the things that helped me accept his baptism was realizing that if he continued to do what he was doing, he will be worse off once baptized then if not in the eternal end. Now, nothing in his life has changed in the past two years. He still only goes to Sacrament meeting, he shops on Sunday, he is still verbally abusive and probably still drinks. Now he is going to get endowed and you know none of his habits or behaviors are going to change, not even then. Now he will be ever more worse off in the end! It has been hard for me over the years because everyone views him as this wonderful and perfect guy. Brad and I both thought that people in his ward/ stake overlooked things just to get him baptized. Now they are doing the same thing with him getting endowed. I joked with Brad that his bishop would baptize him with alcohol in his hand! Now we are joking that they will let him go through the temple with alcohol in his hand!
I know I'm not the one to judge him. He isn't perfect, but neither am I.
I told Brad it's a good thing I'm already seeing Joy, because when he announced he was getting baptized I thought for sure I was going to end up back in James's office from all my crazy emotions going up and down! Brad jokingly asked me what I would do if he had to work and he couldn't be there in the temple with me. I told him, "I will pay Joy to go with me!!!" He laughed and said, "How funny would that be when your family asks who it is, 'oh this is my therapist because I can't handle all of this!'".
I know in the end whatever happens, happens! I'm sure I will come to accept it like I did his baptism. I'm just not looking forward to the next 3 months and the emotional roller coaster I know it will be. I'm glad Brad has been so understand and there for me and I'm so glad that I happened to already be in counseling! If it hadn't been Sunday when my emotions started going crazy I would have texted Joy! The day before I found out I was thinking that the next thing I should talk to Joy about was my anxiety about ever being late. Yeah, I think we have deeper stuff to work on now. Wish me luck!
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