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The Hidden Facade

Updated: Nov 12, 2020

You don’t comment or like my posts, because it’s too painful.

You read and soak up every word of validation, but you’re stuck in your grief.

You cry reading every word I write.

You don’t want to relate, but you do.

You’ve done everything you can to appear “normal”, happy, and put together.

You’re successful in so many ways but you feel like a failure at home.

You’re educated. You’re responsible. You work hard to provide for yourself. People love you at work and they rely on your skills. You’re celebrated in the career world for all of your many achievements.

But, they don’t know what’s going on at home.

At home, celebration is a rare experience. The truth is, home is a very unpredictable place. You’re not sure what crisis you’ll come home to next. Will he be drunk? Strung out? At the hospital? Will the bank account be overdrawn again? Maybe you’ll find out about a surprise DUI that happened a few weeks ago. Maybe the bank will call you about a forged check, AGAIN. Maybe that strange visitor will be parked in the driveway again. Maybe you will find a past due power bill you KNOW you gave him the money to pay. Maybe you’ll walk in and he’ll quickly hang up the phone because he was talking to that girl again. Maybe you won’t get any sleep tonight because he needs someone to yell at.

You want to enjoy your home. You want to be at peace with your partner, but these days, all you feel is resentment. The reality seems to go like this: you work hard and fill the bank accounts, then he spends it all on alcohol and digs you deeper into debt. The harder you work, the faster it seems to disappear. You feel hopeless and numb and exhausted.

Everyone loves your husband and they have no idea the hell he has created at home. He’s just as good at holding up the facade as you are.

So here you are, in a cage of your own reputation. From the outside, you’re the complete picture of success and envy. From the inside, you’re slowly rotting away. You want out of this mess but you can’t ruin your name or his. So you stay, hoping something will change. You start thinking getting into a car accident might be an easier way out than living like this. You secretly wish maybe this next overdose will end this hell you are too exhausted to live anymore.

Yea, I know. I know this story all too well. Because it used to be mine.

If you’re ready to stop the madness, I promise you can. It will require the bravery to be honest. It will require the courage to let your reputation shatter with your head held high. It will require facing all the secrets you’ve hidden for so long. My life’s work is now walking people through this ugly chrysalis and death.

What makes it all worth it is watching the resulting powerful butterfly take flight. Are you ready for your chrysalis yet?

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