today was a good day. i had an appointment at the Kroc center (gym). it was a mandatory orientation thing to get a scholarship to lower the cost of my membership. i now will only have to pay $24/month for a fam membership. sadly, that’s tough for me, now that i have taken on a large portion of the household bills since we split up. let’s just say im looking up plasma donation places to get thru my kids bday. it’s their 18th bday and i really want to do something special. but yeah, times are tough.
anyway, the good news is that during the orientation…well, first let me paint this picture: i sat there with bitch-face as usual. i feel bad about it, especially at like this charity thing. we can’t help our faces. but i have an attitude too. it’s so ingrained. it’s posture, it’s other stuff. it’s partly the way i dress as well, im sure. i know it’s basically a church, but i dont think they care that i wear all black and my hair is black and im white as a sheet. but when you put it all together, im afraid i stand out. when really, im just trying to NOT stand out.
but while i was sitting thru the presentation looking haughty and bored but actually just trying to mask my social anxiety, i was flipping thru the catalog of classes. and i started to get this weird feeling. like, i guess i was maybe imagining a world without my ex and without my kids even, where im not howling in an ever-deepening vortex of abyss. instead, maybe taking a yoga class. or joining the knitting circle they host on tuesdays. or something. i think this is what i need to do, well, someone told me yesterday this is what i need to do. but i didnt know what she meant until i was sitting there with all these options presenting themselves.
plus i ate well. altho it occurred to me that ive been lying to myself again. i am doing an abstinence plan that is no sugar, no caffeine, no dairy + 3 meals a day, no snacks. first, i started having tea before bed, which can’t count as a snack. then i started to add coconut/almond creamer to my tea, which is very low cal, and not dairy. then i started getting Rebbl Matcha Lattes. only twice. but they have green tea (caffeine), and honey (basically sugar), and a little bit of heaven. so then, today, i was rushed after my orientation and stopped at starbucks and got — NO MOCHAS thankfully — but i got an egg & gouda sandwich thing. it’s only 350 cal. but it has dairy and the white bread, tho not technically excluded, is something i’ve been successfully avoiding.
so im pretty much letting stuff sneak in. i mean, im sneaking stuff in. and not letting myself think about it. it’s pretty crazy that _I_ can do something while at the same time _I_ look the other way. wth. anyway, im not going to be rigid and “start over”, im still at 17 days abstinence, since the infractions were pretty slight. and i’ve already decided to make it “no coffee” instead of no caffeine, and allow 1-2 cups of organic green tea before 12pm, for now. BUT im going to quit it with the Rebbls and figure out something abstinent for those times im out and in a pinch.
but since i was feeling pretty encouraged by a vague image of a possible future before the eventual black abyss, i called Mollie. i dont always want to cry and moan, i wanted to share positivity too. she was very happy for my good news, but was busy. before we hung up she said something really nice. she said that there is something really amazing about me that is hard to explain, but it’s like even in my darkest hour, i always find a way to be raw and open.
so i’ve gotten weird compliments occasionally in my life. i have been told i have a good forehead. and that the whites of my eyes are very white. i once was told that i really have a way of walking out of a room, which was meant as a biting insult, but i took it as a badge of honor. why thank you, mother, i do, dont i 🙂 but this compliment from mollie, tho i dont understand how she sees that, feels like a very real and great thing. so i felt doubly glad after that.
on the way home, i thought about how i was only beautiful for one year of my life. 17 years old. before that i was either a scraggly tom-boyish hood rat or a chubster (ages 10-16). by chubby, i mean 20 pounds overweight. to some people that’s nothing, but to a white girl in the late 80s, it’s enough to ostracize you. at 16, i got dumped in a really eh, a bad situation. my mom was dealing with husband no. 2, who was a true skeeze, and i guess i just wanted to take control of my life. like, i finally realized i could do that. i secretly started eating smaller portions. if my mom knew i was trying to lose weight, she would have sabotaged me and picked me apart. luckily, she didnt pay close enough attention to notice me eating less, or i would have most likely resorted to purging. i also started doing a Kathy Ireland workout video. i had the one video, i wore that shit out. by the end of the summer, i’d shed the 20 pounds.
thus i entered into the year of effortless power. i was as close to a perfect women as i would ever get. i was tall and athletic/thin with an hourglass shape. i had a pretty, friendly face, long thick hair. i was bright, but not savvy. nieve, even. i had no self-esteem and was desperate to please. every man i met loved me. i got pulled over, no tickets. men randomly bought me shit. my groceries always taken to my car. they insisted. i had men, strange, random, creepy, old men, approach me in libraries and essentially bow as they offered me books they thought i would like. books about witchcraft and erotica. it didnt matter what i said or did, because no one was listening or paying attention. they were just looking and imagining. i remember getting frustrated because i would try to talk to boys in school about assignments, and their eyes would glaze over and they’d smile and nod in a daze.
i couldn’t walk down the street without being catcalled relentlessly. i was already socially anxious and insecure as hell, so being approached was pretty scary. and rightly so. i was attacked twice that year. my skeezy step dad put the moves on me one night, after months of doing no-contact pervy shit, and at my boyfriends urging, i told my mom. she said, and i’ll never forget it, “how can you do this to me when things are finally going so well?” then they went on a walk on the levy to discuss it, and i sat on the couch with acid stomach. my brain was numb. i had no other family. i had no options. i wouldn’t have stayed in that hell house as long as i did if i had. my sister had been long gone and my brother had gone to stay with his dad (husband #2). my mom and the skeeze came back and he smirked as she said, “well we talked about it and…i believe him.” as in, i dont believe you.
i was devastated naturally. i hid in my bedroom. i showered and dressed in the dark. (my instincts were right, it was later discovered that he had been video taping me in my room and the shower, which my mom was aware of all along.) after a few miserable weeks, where i was breaking down in class and just being totally erratic, i was threatened with suspension for cutting class. so i decided to reach out for help. thats what the teen magazines said to do — tell a teacher or someone at school. i told the counselor. they called a CPS worker and my mom and her skeeze, and we all had a sit down. it was brutal. i could barely speak with my mom there. after the meeting the adults decided i was lying to get out of cutting class.
when i got home that night, as late as i could stand to stay out, there were black garbage bags on the front step. they had actually changed the locks. i took my garbage and went back to my car and drove.*
i ended up couch surfing with friends, as long as their judgy parents would let me, until i finished high school. i never felt welcome at their homes. i didnt want to waste their water or take their food. i got a job right away, of course since i was a dumb, pretty 17 year old, and with the unsettled lifestyle and some of my own money, i started going to fast food. i had gained 45 pounds by graduation.
thus the window of effortless power closed. beauty, and being wanted for sex, is the height of power for women. and if i had been smarter or less damaged, maybe i could have wielded it more successfully. instead i just got run over and spat out, like so many young women.
the weird part is, and im still trying to get my head around this, is that since that time, i have unconsciously done everything i can to get back to that. and i berate and castigate myself so harshly for every second that i dont achieve that goal. it’s not just a goal weight. there is this livid, hateful part of me that desperately wants to get back to that place, like literally go back in time, and do it differently. not be so weak. have the knowledge i have now and be ready for each and every one of those people who hurt me. to combine the power of knowledge and inner strength (real power) with the patriarchically assigned female-power.
but that’s so stupid. it’s so futile. its impossible and pointless. and recognizing that part of me, acknowledging that righteous anger, comforting that lonely damaged betrayed child, is really the only way to freedom. because we can’t go back, honey. we’ll never be her again. but, we dont need to. we dont need to fix it, or to even the score. the only thing we need to do is let it go.
this wasn’t one of them: the path season 3 is on Hulu, which thrilled me this am since i had no idea when it would come back. why do i love this show so much. it’s not that great. i guess, 1 cults, 2 the way it’s filmed so creepy, and 3 michelle monaghan. man! her character is super awesome and scary and relatable all at the same time. and in the first episode of season 3 — whoa! she never fails to move me.
anyway, here’s the 2 things:
first, my horrible ex-husband called me for the first time in 10 years. someday i hope to blog alllll about that nightmare. suffice to say that he is a true villain and sometimes immigration does get it right — he was deported to russia in 05. so he calls me as i was headed to my lunch date with mollie. im driving. he sounded the same. he lectured me about getting the kids in the best colleges (what?! hahaha wow. this guy), and then asked me to scan and send some old photos of him, and then said he had no regrets and has lived a pretty exciting life. ive been researching NPD (narcissists) lately and dang. hadn’t gotten around to plugging him into the checklist, but wont need to now. i basically was like, ok yeah glad to hear you’re doing well, i gotta go. wtf. this man brutalized me AND the kids (they were infants). he humiliated me in public so many times. he almost killed me when i refused to have an abortion. he threatened me constantly with bodily harm and with stealing the babies. when i finally dared to escape him, he terrorized me. i slept with a gd gun under my pillow. that’s never a satisfying sleep. even after i fled california, he found me and tormented me. even after he was deported, he called and threatened me. and he was a scary guy; it was hard to ignore his threats. it really wasn’t until a few years ago that i could breathe a little easier, because the kids were old enough that if he tried to abduct them, they’d be able to fight back or escape. just crazy to have that door from the past opened out of nowhere and in the 5 min conversation, for him to gloat about how exciting his (deadbeat, drug addicted, crime-riddled) life has been. i mean, it probably was haha, but dont go bragging to me about it. “i have no regrets”, he said twice. i was going to write a scathing email, but opted for a short and sweet one. i basically said “listen i wish you well but we are not friends. you treated me and the kids terribly. you made my life hell. you have done nothing to amend for that nor have you done anything to earn back my respect or friendship.” so, he’ll probably have some lovely words in response, but w/e idc.
second thing: my stupid ass ex bf, the one i’ve been rambling on about for 2 months, the one i just told last weekend hey were not friends, sorry. you treated me like shit and im not into that anymore. (same script as above, huh.) well, he texted me a bunch today. like telling me his whole office has the flu (ignored). and he’s super scared he going to get it (ignored). and that his throat hurts so bad (ignored). and what do i want to do for the kids bday. this i felt was within the realm of what i will talk to him about (house business and kid business) which im sure is why he brought it up. nevertheless, i responded, “let’s worry about the kid’s birthday after we see if you’re still alive” or something. he sent a crying face (ignored). it blows my mind that hes just going to keep texting me like we’re…friends? i effing told him im not his friend. if someone told me, hey im really not your friend, i wouldn’t be texting, oh my owie throat. is it that he doesnt believe me? he has always said he thinks im lying when i say, like, standing up to him type stuff. so that’s very possibly it. i guess its just ignore ignore ignore. he knows i have a hard time being mean, and he may think i think it’s mean to ignore him. but i dont. its rational. he’s a manipulator, and this is obvs more of his pathetic game.
not playing. i hope this is the extent of the shit he pulls.
In Jan 2006, i was fresh out of an 18th month failed relationship. I had been unhappy in the relationship for a long time so, altho i was a little bit scared of living in a new state with no friends and no job, i wasn’t too broken up about it. i got a work book that had you write daily about the relationship. like one day you wrote all the great things about your ex, and the next day you wrote all the things you hated, etc. i didnt sweat the future or lament the wasted time, partly because it had been less than 2 years, but mostly because i was 31 and death anxiety hadn’t truly hit me yet.
by february of 2006, i had a decent job, tho low paying, and i was pretty much over the break up and happy to be on my own. i wanted to focus on raising my kids and getting healthy. i started weight watchers again. i was doing good. eating right, exercising, taking care of business. i was self sufficient and pretty satisfied overall.
in July i had a weird idea strike me on my way home from work. i said to myself, hey universe, i think i might be ready to meet someone new. it had only been 6 months, but that last relationship was definitely over and any pain was healed.
in October of 2006, i was at work and got on myspace at lunch. i got into a casual conversation about russian authors with someone in a literature forum. over the next few weeks, we messaged thru myspace, continuing to have purely intellectual discourse — nothing personal. altho, it did become personal, but i dont remember how. eventually we were instant messaging on yahoo (i think?). by november, it has become important to me and we “chatted” every night. in december we started talking on the phone. altho he told me later he thought it went well, i remember the first phone call as a real let down. his writing was very captivating and his lavish and intelligent praise and attention was very seductive (love-bombing). but the phone call revealed a weak voice and a less certain person. i decided to let that first impression slide. because it wasn’t the first impression if you count our written correspondences, nor was it a true in-person first impression, right?
we talked on the phone again soon and it became sexual fairly quickly. he made me feel safe and i was more open with him than i normally would have been. i told him secrets. then he told some of his. i was committed to respect his secrets, since he’d respected mine, and i have an open mind. but his secrets stretched my compassion and understanding.
first, he told me he was leaving for Korea on Christmas day, just weeks away. he was scheduled to be there for one year. while i was disappointed in a way, i was also happy that i wouldn’t have to meet him soon. i wanted to lose 25 pounds before we met so that his first impression of me would be “perfect” like he deserved. but a year did seem like a very long time.
but his other secrets were tougher. he had confessed that he was a sexual masochist. at this point in my life, i had only had relatively vanilla experiences, and altho i’d read a variety of classic erotica, i hadn’t put a lot of thought into it. i was intrigued as i always am when confronted with something i dont know much about, but i was disturbed by some of his stories. incestuous stories of sneaking in and sniffing his mom’s underwear. masturbating in his sister’s rooms when they were off at college. various interactions with strangers he’d met online where he paid them money to either do nothing more than act bitchy, to requesting him to meet other men in hotels and insert objects into each other’s asses.
a normal person would have hung up the phone and been done. and i have so much regret at not having done just that. there wasn’t ever anything good that i got out of the relationship after this point, so it’s impossible to justify. as one might expect, it just got worse. i can only assume that it was the intense and overwhelming nature of the love-bombing in the first few months that set me on a path i wasn’t able to escape until now, 10 years later. that initial love-bombing was followed with teasing crumbs and a few minor love-bombings over the years, altho they were never as good. maybe because he didnt put as much into it, or maybe because they were always tainted with the pain i’d begun accumulating.
but at that time, i thought this was it. this was his openly confessed flaw and im sure i thought with enough love and care, i could help him. that was the dynamic that was set, the trap as it were, and i was only too eager to rush in. again, because of the love-bombing, but also because he convinced me of his shame and hate of this predilection–which turns out was true. he does feel shame and hate. however, he loves it too, and has the cake as well as eats it by compartmentalizing. he also convinced me that there was never any incest, he was not molested, nor had he molested anyone. and he was not sexually attracted to any family member, but that he was drawn to explore sexual taboos. he made this seem like a virture, nay a sacrifice he was making to becomeing his best self. but, more than anything he was drawn to powerful, older women, which is unusual so i was intrigued. and all this that he said is also true. in a way. and also untrue.
thus began my foray into the duplicitous nightmare of false realities, crazy making, and unattainable acceptance that has completely destroyed me. for now.
this is the photo i keep on my phone to help me stay focused, because it so perfectly represents the following 10 years of my life, to be detailed in future posts.
i feel terrible. that terrible feeling that everything is just bad. it’s sort of like depression, but different. it’s the opiate hangover.
i woke up this morning with pain going down my left leg and throbbing in my thigh bone. i knew shoveling was a bad idea yesterday. my son had done 99% of the shoveling, but he didnt clear the sides of the entrance to the driveway well enough and i knew that once it froze it would be hard to maneuver both cars thru it. and i was energized after having rejected my ex for the first time. so i disregarded wisdom, and worked at it for about 20 min. the snow was soo heavy that i had to bend way down to lift the shovel. each shovel full, i had to stand and arch back to release the pressure.
just pure idiocy, considering how damaged my back is, and how easily it flares. so when i woke this morning in pain, i wasn’t surprised. i had to go to costco tho. i needed dog food, and i buy the kirkland brand. it was only moderately busy, but still took me 45 min because i picked up other things. slogging around in my heaving snow boots.
by the time i got home i’d decided it was going to be a norco afternoon. i made lunch, took care of some stuff, and then took half a norco. that’s the most my stomach can handle, and it’s enough to put me in lala land so i dont feel the pain and can relax. i had my legs on my wedge and a hot pad under my back and i floated in painless happiness for roughly 2-3 hours.
opiates make everything feel just so nice. the hot pad was divine. pure heaven. the alpaca blanket. the warmth and weight of the dog laying on me released a slow joy. the world seemed ok. i forgot about my ex and the future and just reveled in the pleasure of life and the rightness of everything. its like floating in the clouds, but theyre extra warm and cuddly clouds and they love you so much because youre really an amazing person.
thats the allure of opiates for me. if only i could feel like that forever. but, its 2-3 hours, and then i feel groggy and dizzy for another 2-3 hours. but then…the hangover. its basically feeling the exact opposite of the cuddly cloud high. i feel low, and everthing feels wrong. wrong in a way that can never be right. and the future holds only worse. and, for me, after 1/2 a norco, this state lasts ~6 hours. it really sux, and i have to keep reminding myself that it’s not real; it’s the medicine.
rn im about 4 hours into the dark despondance. my leg pain is lessened significantly. when the muscles relax, the pressure on my spine diminshes which releases the nerve. so that’s good. but damn. if it wren’t for that, it would not be worth it. its 9 hours of discomfort and misery for just a couple of hours of bliss. and trying to chase the bliss by popping more and more pills is…ugh i shudder to imagine it! the pain after would have to be tremendous.
after my surgery the dr. insisted that i take all pills as instructed. i was on 2 norco 4x/day for 2 weeks. also muscle relaxers. i was basically comatose for most of it. but i started decreasing immediately after the prescribed time, because i have seen opiate addiction up close, both pills and heroin. i knew i had to get off them asap. it was awful.
i only have a handful of them left. from a Rx i got in 2011, so they’re pretty old and faded, im sure. but they do help with the pain flares. and i dont think my new dr. will prescribe more, since docs have gotten tight with opiates lately. understandably.
overall the day was pretty crap. ate well, had some gross tea, got a few things done, mostly good conversations with the kids (one argument with the boy), no exercise + guilt stares from dogs for not walking them (altho the boy played with them a little), and the drug induced bad feelings.
tomorrow, we’re supposed to have sun and 40* so if my back is improved at all, i am going to take the dogs to walk at the lake. and while there, im going to think about all new things and not remember the thousands of times my ex and i spent there. sigh
I can’t believe how good it feels to reject him. i think today was the first time i clearly rejected him. and there is guilt, as ridiculous s as that is, i do have guilt over it.
this morning i reminded myself of my intention. i was going to say, “thanks but no thanks” when he tried to hang out after the dance thing. no matter what. so he texts that he’s running late. making it easier for me. he misses the first dance. then some other groups, younger girls, did their dances and then he shows up. i was hoping he’d stand at the wall but he squeezed thru to the open seat next to me that i did not purposely save.
the minute i saw him i was like, ugh. he looked sickly. his lips were greyish. he sat next to me and i smelled a rotten stomach smell and cigarette smoke. afterward, we walked out and asked where the other was parked. he was way out in a second lot and i asked did he want a ride to his car so he wouldn’t have to slog thru the massive amount of snow slush. he said “no, but what do you want to do today?” i said “uh, nothing really, i dont want to hang out.” hes like (shocked) “why?” i said “i dont know, just dont feel like it.” then we were at my car and he walks to the passenger door and i said “oh you do want a ride to your car.” hes like, “might as well.”
we drive to his car and he starts asking questions, business stuff about the kids and college and finances, stuff he knows im still willing to discuss. then he starts telling me some drama going on in his family. i somewhat care about these people even tho i’ve actually only met one of them. (living together 10 years and never met his family, js.) then he asked how i was and said, “you know this kind of feels like we’re hanging out, and i said i didnt want to do that.” he laughed, “yeah…i tricked you.” i said, “yeah, you know, i just dont want to hang out cuz we’re not friends.” (i decided to go there.) his eyes teared up, he said, “but we are friends i like being around you i love you.” i said, “sure i can understand that. but why would i want to be your friend? after the things you did to me, the lying, the betrayal? thats not how friends treat each other. normally i would never talk to you again, but because of the kids, which i do want to support that…but that doesnt mean that you and i have to be friends.” he said, “we can discuss this later” and turned to get out of the car. i said, “why? i dont want to talk later. i dont want to talk to you. you cheated and lied to me for 6 months and before that, you had me crawling on the floor like a dog. when i’m around you, i remember what that feels like. when im away from you, i feel like myself again. and when i feel like myself again, i can’t understand why i’d ever be around you again.”
he said, “im glad youre feeling like yourself again. im gonna go.” and got out of the car. i felt… stupid guilt, and fear of retribution, and relief. i drove off and called Mollie. i told her i was conflicted and stressed and really wanted to stop and get some gross greasy food rn.” she said just talk to me until you get past all the crack houses (fast food places and restaurants). gotta love her.
i got home and felt pretty great. the hunger passed and i shoveled the driveway a little bit. didnt want to mess with my back, but felt like doing something physical. then i played with my dogs and finally made a normal lunch with veggies and everything. damn. it felt good to just be doing what i wanted. i’d stood up to his emotional draw. i had felt the pull, and a part of me was like c’mon lets just do it, this time might be different. but the bigger part of me remembered my intention and stayed strong and the reward was, i was home and free to do what i liked and to feel good and to not be in the groveling position im always in with him.
it helped that he looked like shit, stunk and was late to an 11am event. that tells me he was up late drinking heavily and spending time with smokers (he doesnt smoke). but damned if i was going to ask him about it. that’s not my concern anymore. but it helped me stay strong.
i am nervous of retribution. he could cause me a ton of problems financially. i dont think he would do it with the kids still here, but once they’re gone, ive got to have a plan. altho my friend kale said by then, i might be strong enough to placate him and be friendly enough that he’ll allow me to stay in my home. and altho that’s true, the thought of living that way nauseates me. i am not materialistic. i dont care about the house and furniture, etc. a reliable car is something. and my animals. but i have some time to plan.
then, a few hours ago he sent a text: “im not dealing with loss of you. too hard.”
sounds drunk. and this is the first text of this kind that he has sent in all this time. my gaurd went up, because i have to expect its manipulation. i was going to say you didnt lose me you thru me away. (dumb.) or ignore it. (prob would have been best.) but instead, an hour later, i wrote, “haha of course youre not. im the best thing thats ever happened to you.” he responded, “yes u r.” definitely drunk.
So today i had to do a bunch more college stuff, make calls, find more documents, get them scanned, more calls, find links that were emailed months ago and create portals, etc. every time i think i’ll just get this one thing taken care of, it turns into three new tasks, and i know behind each of them are more things. and this is why i hate being an adult sometimes.
then i needed to call him because apparently there were two sets of test scores (times two kids) that needed post marked by today and i have already paid for 8 (times two), so i am tapped out in that dept., so i called. he said fine and would i mind if he goes to my daughters dance performance tomorrow. i said that’s fine. its her thing, they have a rela, it’s fine. he said, well im not doing anything the rest of the day, so if you want maybe we can do something. i said, oh i have an idea you could hit the road after. which is just cheesy, wtv. he laughed, we laughed, and got off the phone
that was all it took for my mind to unravel. he doesnt have anything going on tomorrow? does that mean he has something going on tonight? why didnt he ask to spend the night tonight so he wouldn’t have to get up early to drive (since he lives 45 min away)? not that i would have agreed, but it would have been a logical excuse. maybe he does have plans, maybe he’s dating someone. the last time he came over, he spent two nights, we slept in the same bed and were not intimate at all. i thought it was my doing, since i was not inviting and had no intention of letting him be close to me. but maybe it was his plan too, because he’s dating or fucking people?
i had a dream a couple of nights ago that he and i were in some loft and he had made all these plans and i didnt want to do them so i said so. somehow we started arguing and i started interrogating him. he confessed he’s been having casual sex and i was so angry. i didnt blow up but i just kept questioning him. this is very much what it was like after i found out about the cheating. just pure hell. and not like me. i hated being that way, but it was like a horrible compulsion. and in my dream it was all back. when i woke i thought, no matter what…i will never do that again. i will just walk away. i can’t be that pathetic again.
and in my head tonight im falling into that trap again. i was thinking how he wants to hang out, just wants to be friends. fuck this guy! seriously! this sucks so much! in a normal sitch, that bridge would have long since burned, turned to ash, and blown away by now. but because of the kids, and the house and the animals, i have to walk this nightmare tightrope! it’s murder. its so awful.
i realized today that altho i have always had serious insecurities and an overall inferiority complex (that sometimes masked as a superiority complex, i think, a little), i have never had this ridiculous self-esteem issue. like, i really feel like a piece of shit. before i met him, it never dawned on me to wonder why someone would want to be my friend or date me. i never considered myself a 10, in fact i was hyper critical and never felt “good enough”, but i based a lot of my self-worth on the reaction i got from other people. my friends seemed to genuinely think i was pretty and nice. i always had a few guys interested, and the ones i engaged with said all kinds of nice stuff about me. and i sort of gathered it up and believed about half of it and that was basically who i thought i was.
im not saying that’s healthy. but the way i feel now, after 10 years with this guy, i mean. i feel like an absolute freak. like some kind of wretched monster. today i was going about my business, taking care of all kinds of stuff, which is rare and wonderful in these last few years of depression. there are days with depression, that i count putting a pen in a drawer to be a win. so yeah i was feeling pretty great today because i had taken care of maybe a dozen serious things. and as im walking into the post office, i caught my reflection in the glass, and i was shocked and horrified. there she was again. the hideous monster.
how did this happen? how did he do it? i wish i could delineate every little subtle thing he said and did that picked my fragile self esteem apart and left me this sad lump on the ground. because then, maybe id have something to work with. something to look at and say, “oh! yes, here! i know *this* is wrong! Ha!” and be done with it little by little. but i dont know how he did it. but i know he’ll do it again. to whoever lets him. to the next insecure girl who is willing to follow him down his dark paths in hopes of another one of his paltry stale crumbs.
i hate him
but let me look at it closer. all of my strife this evening comes down to Wanting Him To Love me. that same old thing. i dont actually want him. i dont find him attractive. he’s quite ugly, and his body is gross. he’s not romantic, nor does he say sweet things. i dont like hanging out with him. he hardly ever has anything interesting to say, he’s not creative, he’s not clever. he’s negative and ugly and selfish and controlling and self-obsessed. and somehow he’s made me desperately want his approval. that is his dark gift. and it doesnt matter how he does it. what matters is that i stop thinking about what he wants, and start thinking about what i want. then it’s clear: i dont want him. i want to be free of him. i feel better with him gone. im happier. my kids are happier. things are peaceful. i am more calm, and i feel my health returning. i have interacted with more people in the 6 weeks he’s been gone than i did in the last 3 years. literally. and that isolation is a real killer. and im breaking thru it. i have days without depression. i have seen a ray of hope a number of times. i heard my own intuition speak to me two nights ago! i have faith that things can get better, that I can get better. and no matter what he’s doing with his life, whether he’s living it up or miserable, it is not my concern. i need to release that.
so tomorrow, after the dance thing, when he asks to hang out, im going to say “no thank you”. and when he asks why, im not going to lie, nor am i going to tell him how i feel. he hasn’t earned the right to know. im just going to say…”thanks but no.”
i wasn’t going to blog today, because i was pretty busy today and then it was night. and i decided not to blog at night anymore after what happened last night.
i wonder what it was yesterday that led me to end up writing the saddest, most pathetic self-hating blog. i had actually felt pretty good most of the day, well off and on. but then i blogged and it turned into a self-indulgent befuddled mess of negativity that i couldn’t fix, so i just logged out and followed thru with my normal bedtime ritual. which includes the standard brushing of the teeth — and flossing! and also, sadly a round of pocket camp on my phone. someday soon i hope to be the saint who puts her phone on the desk in the corner to charge overnight while sleeping soundly at a decent hour.
but not yet. so i took my night pills (glycine, magnesium, 2 5htp & 1/2 mg ativan), did the phone game thing, and turned off the light nice and early at 12am. i’ve been on a 2-10 sleeping schedule lately, but i would like to get back to 12-8. but no, instead i had…idk…maybe a panic attack? more like a grief attack? i was just overwhelmed with sorrow and anger and fear and confusion. so intense like suffocating at the bottom of the ocean. my chest started hurting, my whole body. i tried not to cry, but i thought, shit maybe i should just stop pretending this isn’t happening and just cry. but i didnt want to go full wailing & gnashing of teeth because my head would hurt so bad the next day. so i just kind of broke down for a few minutes, pulled it together for a few minutes, on and on for about an hour. it was that state where you don’t/can’t think, you’re just stuck in the grip of something.
then i started to get panicky because i remembered an article about how chronic lack of sleep will kill you fast. just so bad for you etc. so my normal would be to take just a little bit extra ativan. but i truly want to get off the poison, and im never going to if i keep doing that. i took a mastic gum capsule instead, because my stomach was burning with acid. then i dug around and found my gran’s locket and tried to find comfort there. it has given me courage to go to the dentist before, and to do other things im afraid of like the stupid senior night where parents have to walk out on the football field to be announced and celebrated for their athletic kid.
for probably 45 more minutes i suffered in such despair and confusion. i couldn’t think of what else to do. i couldn’t think rationally of like, “this is good. face your emotions” or ” hey get that list of self-soothing shit to do”, or anything helpful. i was like all lizard-brain. (altho i am really proud of myself for not taking the extra pill.) but i was so desperate, i held the locket to my chest and called out to my gran (whispered) to help me and i just cried and cried, repeating help me gran.
this is not my thing, i dont ask for help, even/especially from ghosts in the middle of a miserable night. but, like i said, weird head space. out of nowhere i got this very strong feeling/impression. it was like a voice in my head, strong and sure, said, “do not use this locket. there is too much grief there.” i obeyed and put the locket on the bedside table, pushed it as far as i could away from me, rolled over and passed out.
so this morning i woke at like 950 and turned on the SAD light and lay there remembering the pain and drama of the night before. all of the emotion was gone or shuttered. i had breakfast and called mollie. i told her that i had a miserable night and was unsure if it was “just” depression, cPTSD, or maybe plain old grief that i can and should work thru. she said i should have called her then & that her service to others, she’s decided, is to be available 24/7, which is pretty phenomenal. and the conversation was good. she said so many really inspiring thing. very helpful!
but i wanted to make a note of at least one thing she said cuz it was great. i told her about the locket and the strong feeling that came over me like a voice. i said i dont believe in ghosts, but maybe it was some energy telling me to stop. and that made no sense because i thought my gran used the locket for comfort. it holds the pictures of her husband on one side & her only child (my dad) on the other. i suggested maybe she was wearing it when she died, i really started going out there. she stopped me and said maybe there is a wisdom within you that knows there is too much of your own grief tied to the locket.
dang. she knows nothing of the tragedy of my paternal family. but this hit me as absolute truth. yes. this is exactly what it was. my own intuition, and of COURSE the locket symbolizes immense grief, wtf was i thinking? i never knew my gran. her life was so so very sad. nor did i know my father, his life was even sadder. and he died at age 30, before i was old enough to remember him. that locket is a gd icon of sadness for me!
so– good for courage. not good for comfort. check.
Mollie had to get off the phone but reminded me of the cd she had lent me. so i listened to it while i knit the everlasting 1×1 ribbed scarf. it was this chic, rhonda B. she said some great stuff. im going to listen to it again and take notes. something about giving up food plans and focusing on just going to meetings and going easy on ourselves. and that she felt she always had to do everything 10x harder to be half as good as anyone else. so, like, when it came to exercise, she was always insane and it was unhealthy. i could relate to that so much. im so ‘all or nothing’. she said, instead she has learned to just follow directions. if the phys therapist tells her to lift her leg 10 times, she’s just going to lift her leg 10 times and not think, “oh this isnt going to do anything!”. yep! i. have. been. there.
so then i did my 20 minute low-impact aerobic dvd and didnt tell myself what a waste and how pathetic and this is nothing why not kick it up a notch. i didnt do the yoga video after like i planned. because logically, i know that i need to ease back into it. because im not 17 anymore and my back is so damaged. so im just going to write a conservative exercise plan with careful increases and Follow Directions. i think that’s great.
my ex tried to engage me in text tonight, but i withstood the allure. and by allure i mean guilt (or fear?) i stayed generic and made sure to wait a while before responding. i dont want to just straight up ignore (why? fuck him!), but i want to shut it down. dumbass must have been drunk because he was imperviously cheerful. finally he said, hey do you mind if i share with you a song ive been really into this week?
hahahahaha “are you nuts!?” i wanted to respond. i mean, really?????????? you self-centered POS. i…i just…i can’t even, there are no words. well there are a lot of words, but its almost impossible for me to be calm and express how “wtf” this is for him to ask. because, no. no, i do not want to know what he’s been grooving to all week. he has always used music to dominate the atmosphere, and he seems to think he still can. i do not want to listen to his song, and have it affect me. because it will. he knows it will. im fucking impressionable as hell (especially rn), of which i am not proud. it is such a weakness. it has made me weak and vulnerable to the likes of him. to normal ppl it might be a positive, and maybe someday, i’ll be able to embrace it and share it with a normal person who is not trying to get inside my head and suck out my brain for breakfast.
and also. we are not friends! i wanted to say that, like, “um no thanks why dont you share it with a friend?” instead i said, “probably better not to”, then he begged and sent emojis as only the drunken can, and i said “im sorry im very busy rn” (which was true! i was working on a complicated crochet pattern!). and he was like oh ok i’ll just send it and you can listen to it later. rude: i had said NO but sure enough he sent it. i deleted it really fast before i could read the name.
FUCK THIS GUY!!!!!
anyway, im feeling much more calm and sane tonight. i only decided to blog so i could remember what mollie said. i am not going to blog at night anymore tho, because i dont want to take a chance of weird nasty emotions instigated right before bed, like last night. but i have a lot of positive things to focus on. i withstood another attempt by him. and i got a lot done today. and my food is in check. and i did just the right amount of exercise for me right now. and i had great conversations with my wonderful kids. and yeah. it’ll be OK. soon. probably.
i know i shouldn’t be happy about climate change, but to have a sunny 41 degree day in early January where i live is anomalous to say the least. it was so beautiful. i tried not to look while i was driving, but the sky was stunning, and low on the horizon, just along the crest of the mountains, white clouds with a silver and gold gleaming rim as the winter sun fell. i thought of all the things i would do alone now, all the sites i would see. all the fields in which i would sit alone with my portable speaker and my incense and my book or knitting. on my old blankets that he shared. i thought of how i might someday down the line share my blanket with someone else, maybe a friend maybe a lover, and how i would show them all my secret fields with their rocky slopes and pale yellow weeds that mix with the wildflowers.
inside was like a carousel today, turning its way between heartache and longing and a new happiness that i dont yet see, but am beginning to feel. i struggled to keep my mind from falling into paths of regret and all the wicked wishes that snag me there. someone at the meeting said that we must avoid the future and the past because god only exists in the present.
i felt stupid after my meeting today, as i fucking always do. i felt like i talked too much and said stupid things, as i always feel. unless i am sufficiently castigated and keep my mouth shut, and then i feel like i seemed weird sitting there silent, looking down, darting out as soon as the meeting is over. there is no winning. if i could not think about it, that would be a win, but it never happens. i always hate myself no matter what.
then i wrote a letter to my sort of step-mom. ive been trying to write this letter for over a year. i even bought special stationary, waited for it to be shipped from japan, put it on my bedside table so i’d be reminded, and looked at it almost every day. i wrote in my planner repeatedly, “write S”. never getting to check it off the list. she’s written me 3 times in that space and sent $100 for christmas. i did send a xmas card! which was something, but pretty crappy. she wants a real letter. she hates email. i dont like talking on the phone. so then today it just happened. i had planned on typing up my response so that i didnt have to concentrate on content and my penmanship at the same time, since my penmanship is egregious, but nope, i just robotically reached over and pulled the dusty package over, opened it up, started scribbling away.
thats how things happen with depression i have found. randomly and way too late.
or maybe it was the sun. i bet it was.
i have the antidepressants in my bedside table. they’ve sat there for 6 or 7 months. i tried them twice and got a bad stomach ache. i looked it up and ppl were like oh yeah you’re going to have a stomache ache for maybe 3, 4 weeks. wow that is not what i wanna do. the pharmacists said cut it in half, take it with food. then i read articles about how anti-depressants make you a zombie or poison your organs. and they’re so addictive, etc. so i dont take them and i languish in misery and the toxic fog of ativan. i mean, wtf? makes no sense. i wonder why i dont think right. why is it so hard to make decisions, to do things? depression? damn.
but yeah, i wrote the letter to S and then, as soon as it was sealed i thought about all the dumb stuff i wrote and how i come across like a real dunce. and maybe worse. maybe i come across like a blind whiny narcissist or a straight up psychopath? and so i got sucked into the am-i-a-narcissist vortex again. from what ive read, no. but i dont trust myself in any way. im not a very good friend, to myself or anyone.
ok this is taking a negative turn and the truth is, i feel pretty shitty. i really dont want to give credence to the negative self-talk, but i feel confused and my head hurts. i also took my son to the dr. and im pretty sure i acted like a fool there too. why? why do i act like that? or why do i think so much about it? why am i tripping right now? why can’t i just not care like everyone else?
i have devolved.
god, my cat looks happy and peaceful sleeping on the pillow next to me. curled up so nice and neat. animals, amiright? they have it all figured out.
So whatever stupid blip happened last week after he was here 3 days and then left, it has passed. it was abruptly halted after i sat my son down for some real-talk. because he’s been acting like a jerk lately. not just since my ex left, it started, well, it started with puberty years ago, but maybe a year ago it kicked up a lot and then continued to be a prob. the prob is arrogance and back talk and know-it-all-ism. started to feel like every single conversation we had ended up in a debate/argument and him being rude and disrespectful and me saying what’s this shit and him denying any prob and then he’d get grounded from something and he’d retreat to his room for the rest of the night/day. then i’d run over the conversation in my head wondering how i could have done things differently and altho i know i must discipline, it seemed like there were serious communication blocks.
anyway, so i sat him down the other day and was like hey we need to talk and he played games and semantics for a while and i stayed cool. he loves to argue and has gotten pretty good at it. i wasn’t getting anywhere until my daughter came out and agreed with me that he’s been super rude lately. he tried to rile us, as that’s a natural win, but we both stayed calm and loving toward him and finally he asked her to go out of the room. once she did, he broke down crying, which is so rare for him the last few years, and we had a heart to heart. there weren’t any major revelations there, just vented stress and frustration that had been building for the last few years. i didnt want to waste time with guilt, but i totally understood where he was coming from since i have been less stable since 2012. before that i was a gd rock, but after that, i started getting really sick and ended up in therapy and trying to unpack allllll of my repressed shit. and when you do that, you’re going to have ups and downs.
we have talked about it along the way, but at some point he was hurt and repressed it and that compounded and repeated. the way it always does. after we got thru the meat of it, he was wrapping up and we were laughing and he seemed to be headed off, and he turned to me and broke down anew and said he was so glad [my ex] was gone. this crushed my heart and i tried to not cry and said how sorry i am that i ever brought him into our lives in the first place. he said no, i love him and he did a lot for me and i had a lot of great experiences with him, but its just so. much. better. with him gone.
i never let my ex take on a step dad role. he had no real authority over my kids, which caused much strife between us. but he never wanted to commit to me, so wtf would i allow him that? he was always half way out the door. no way i was going to give him the benefits of a permanent part of the family. if he was going to act like a roommate, that’s how he’d be treated, at least outwardly. so the kids always knew him as a very good friend, a male role model (hard not to gag, but he did have a couple good qualities, like going to work every day and being fiscally responsible etc), but never an authority figure. however, he is a very sick person, and no matter how he kept that compartmentalized and away from others as much as possible, that kind of sick is suffocating. he sucked the air out of the house. his energy dominated.
its so hard to describe living under the thumb of a narcissist.
and to know my kids suffered because of my weakness or stupidity is so painful. but it’s a black and white way of looking at it. because even tho my son is too young to understand the subtle damage a deranged person can inflict, he does have a point that there were many positive things that my ex brought to our family. were they worth it? NO. but they shouldn’t be thrown out. and i also shouldn’t discount the immense effort i put in to protect them and shield them from a lot of his bs. or the fact that i was completely mind-fucked and lied to about things that would have allowed me to leave. for example, 2 years ago, i aggressively pursued finding an apartment for him in the town he works in, 30 min away. he always said how much he wanted to live on his own, by god i was going to make it happen. but just like the other times, he sabotaged it. lying and creating all these roadblocks. since i didn’t know how much he lied or the extent of his manipulation, i believed we really were trapped due to finances and other issues.
the only option left was for me to pick up and leave. with my fixed income, i would have struggled to afford even the scuzziest apartment, and leaving my animals would have been brutal for the three of us. but i was willing to do anything and at two specific points, just as i was about to sign the lease, he would come up with something that would make me stop. and the kids wouldn’t want to leave. they would tell me how much they loved our home and begged me not to. then i felt terrible for causing them strife, and i would acquiesce in confusion and despair. and the thick, wet fog of depression.
im not making excuses. i know that we would have been better off if i had never let him in, or if i had left after one year, or two. i just dont want to get sucked in to regret now, because thats such a hopeless place. A friend from the program reminds me not to future-trip or to let the past in. not now. there’s just too much going on emotionally. i need to stay in the present if im going to get thru this, process all this. and i know that’s true.
after my talk with my son and daughter, i had a heavy dream. there was a million things going on, but only one thing stuck with me. my daughter called me into another room. when i walked in there, it was a cave, it was dark and i could only see her shadow on the wall. instead of being 17, she was 2 years old and she was holding hands with two shadow creatures that were the same size as her. i wasn’t afraid, but i was concerned and asked her who the two shadows were. she said one was her shadow and one was mine. and i awoke with that feeling you get when you know your brain is trying to tell you something. but im not sure what it means.
overall, the conversation with my son really hit home the idea that i have done the right thing. any melancholy and wistfulness i felt after spending those three days with him vanished in the wash of my child’s pain. and i felt invigorated and stronger than ever. because ive done it. the thing i thought i could never do, the thing i dreamed up in my hot coffin of depression, the thing he constantly fought behind the scenes. i have got him routed out. ive exercised the incubus that would have killed me. and i know now that i will never, ever let him back in. not this summer when he thinks hes coming back, not once the kids leave. i have shaken him, and i wont look back.
i need to be prepared for whatever sneak attack he is planning. i know he wont let go easily.
Station H 