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.
my plan to process this break up by blogging daily fell apart, along with my plan to exercise daily, eat healthfully, and avoid my ex like the snake he is. because he came here and spent the holidays. I allowed this for the kids. so they would have a “normal” christmas for their last year before college. at least i think that’s why i allowed it.
it was pretty terrible I would say. nothing eventful happened, nothing outward. only, i somehow lost the strength that i had gained. we were not intimate, not even emotionally, so in many ways i held my ground. but his words twisted me up. i am just not strong enough to deflect his manipulations. and so in order for my pain to be lessened, i need to avoid him.
but just the last few days I have been overcome with sorrow. maybe it would have happened anyway. maybe the strength that i gained with my self-focus and readings and mediations last month is still there, but this time of sorrow is necessary. or maybe it’s something he said or did that got me off track.
because I’ve been feeling so in love with him again. thinking about him, feeling that longing feeling you have for the little things that a person you love does. wishing he would say the loving things he’s said in the past. wishing he would love me. the same fundamental feeling I’ve had for 10 years crystalized now into a big wet hurt that i cant seem to sop up.
my friend says im future-tripping, and maybe a little. there is suddenly this big fear that he is happy and meeting people and moving on and having so much fun, while I lay on the bed and play animal crossing pocket camp in the dark, puffy-eyed. because now i see him as desirable and wonderful and so unique and amazing and irreplaceable. and the anger and regret that gave me steam last month has dissipated. is this normal, or am i just an idiot?
no matter what, whether he put this in my head when he was here, or im a complete mess, or it’s just normal processing, the main focus needs to be no contact. I failed at that the first few days. i fell into old patterns of texting him when im scared. i got a terrifying migraine on Jan 3 because on jan 2 i decided to cut out sugar and caffeine at the same time, while on my period. really didn’t think i was consuming that much of either but, shit. my body was pissed. the migraine got to a full 11 and i was contemplating going to the ER — why?? they couldn’t help me but i was panicked. so instead, i texted him, like “oh no daddy what do i do?” ugh. then he rode that opening, texting me several times a day to check on me, offering to come over to give me a message, etc, until 2 days ago i finally was like, listen its fine lets let it go.
then today his mom called me but I didn’t answer, i was legitamately in the store. when i checked my voice mail in the car, i had a 2+ minute listen-in to his mom and bro having a car conversation. it must have been an accidental call. so i turn it up and listened as hard as possible. because why? im nosy or i was hoping to hear them talk about me? maybe, but mostly because his brother sounds so much like him. my heart just broke again listening to his voice, the cadence, etc.
which is so, so stupid. this man is ridiculous, my ex? he’s not cute. his voice is frog-like. he’s a terrible lover, really not good. an even worse kisser. selfish beyond words. treated me like absolute garbage.
that last part is the part I loved i think. but last month, i was so conscious of his flaws, or reality. and now im in this weird melancholia state. idk, i guess i will just let it flow, remind myself not to “future-trip”, focus on wellness and my own needs. like, i have been back on track with my food since jan 2. i got some exercise yesterday. and every time i think lovingly about him, i should…what? think of the bad things? remind myself of the reality? just think about something else?
I hate this so much. i used to get so sad and scared thinking that someday he would die and i would have to help him die and then figure out how to live without him. i thought we were forever, and the thought of losing him was just so scary. but seemed so far away still. this is never what i expected would happen. its better than him being dead, cuz ultimately i do want him to find happiness or whateverthefuck, but it’s just such an adjustment. and deep down i am grateful its over, because the relationship was pretty much awful.
maybe I felt strong last month cuz i knew it was this set time – 1 month – and then I’d have to deal with him for the holidays (he’d be back), and i didn’t think past that. but now, there is no set obligations to him, the kids can prob handle easter without him, and their birthday. so its more real now? the reality of it being over now is unavoidable. the “Trial separation”, altho a facade, and something i grappled with as i realized it wasn’t real, maybe still gave more structure/safety than i realized. idk
plus my bday was tucked in there. 43. spent with him. after everything that happened last year. after the bs that was my 42nd birthday. he’s a truly horrible, despicable, ugly, narrow, incompetent, boring, weak person. he offers me nothing. why the hell can’t I get that thru to whatever part of me still loves him?? i hate this
This is the day that my kids will be gone the whole day. the longest day. however, yesterday and tomorrow are the worst days, because those days they are on the roads. and it is fully winter.
last night I acted stupid. i was pretty good all day, keeping busy, doing what i planned to, staying on task i mean. but then i started getting antsy around 4-430 because they were due to arrive at the hotel, the tracking app said they had arrived at the hotel, but no one was texting me back. i really didn’t want to be that person texting like crazy, so i held it together and just sent one text each. after a half hour of stewing, thinking about how incredibly insensitive they all are, knowing im sitting here nervous, etc., i sent more texts. finally mark called and said they were all checked in. i was so annoyed with my kids, even tho normally i would understand/expect it.
they walked to a Vietnamese place for dinner and then decided to just stay in the room for the night, much to marks disappointment. it was raining pretty bad. he texted me that he was going to safeway for a few things and then would just hang in the room with them and watch netflix. after half an hour, it occurred to me, violently, that he was not going to safeway, but that he was either hanging out with someone he planned to meet there or had set up something with a prostitute. this is completely illogical, but I have become this “crazy” suspicious paranoid person. i really hope i can get past it, because its awful to feel this way. to second guess everything, to never really be able to believe anything anyone says. its awful. so when i texted him and then called and then texted 3 times with no response, i was utterly convinced that i had caught him in this duplicity. finally he called and said he was at safeway and his phone had been off — why? would? his? phone? be? off???? — lie alert alert alert!!!! so i texted, “you have 60 seconds to send me a photo.” he sent me one of the basket (granola, yogurt, water, toothpaste) and another one of his face/body in a safeway aisle.
he loves this shit. this is what he wants. this is what he tried to get me to do for alll those years. to monitor him, to make demands, to be totally possessive and domineering. but it wasn’t my nature. I hate doing stuff like that, im too lazy for it. it really takes a lot of energy to be that way, or any kind of domme.
and yet, here i am.
I told myself this was all fine, open communication with him for these three days, because he has my kids. but just this little bit of interaction with him and the grossness is right back in my face. his grossness and my own. i hate it. i really can’t stand it. i feel weak and out of control and stupid and confused. i can’t wait til my kids are back home, and i can go back to shutting him out.
his mom called today crying. I told her i saw him yesterday and that he didn’t look good, that he smelled bad, either of alcohol or bad food. she said, “good! i love my son, but i want him to suffer. i want him to realize he made a mistake and beg you back.” i didnt tell her that there is no way i’d take him back. instead i told her that i wanted him to suffer too until i saw him. because its terrible to see someone you love suffering. i just want him to be happy. i always wanted that. it took me a long time to accept that i couldn’t make him happy, no matter what i did. but now, unsurprisingly, he’s not happy alone either. which is what he always said he wanted: to be alone. but now he’s saying it’s because of this city. if he was in a different city… or country. he always said he wanted to go back overseas. THEN he would be happy. when i pointed out to him that he was miserable while he was overseas, he denies it. he makes excuses: well it was the job, the apt, the people, the teapot he was using made him sick… etc it goes on and on. he’s just fucked up like that.
so yeah im having trouble with all this. I feel guilty that he’s suffering and feel drawn to help. im resisting, but it hurts. i feel hateful and angry toward him too. i feel fragile and afraid. i hate being without my kids and desperately don’t want them to fly the coop, altho i obvsly do want them to do that. a lot of my suffering is indeed coming from thinking about past and future. mostly future. hatred for myself and all the regret of the past, but mostly fear of the future. but, i know i have no way of knowing what will happen in the future. so im just really focusing on staying in the moment today. it’s helping.
night is harder. we’ll see what happens tonight.
last night after I talked with the kids (not texted, they’re terrible texters!) and felt more calm, i had this nagging desire to eat something or take a few shots of something. i fought it off. when the compulsion returns tonight? idk
today I met an OA person for lunch at a salad place. it was nice. the conversation was very helpful. she’s 70 something and very wise, but there was a weird moment that thru me and made me put up my guard a bit. she seems to prefer the dynamic where she’s doing a lot of talking and giving wisdom, but if i ever talk about something i learned, something that she can’t expound upon, like having kids (she didn’t have any), then she gets very visibly annoyed. and as soon as i was done saying what i said she gave a brisk, “who cares!” and went back to a previous subject. it was…weird! i do like to talk with her and do appreciate her experience and generosity, but shit man. that’s a little awkward! idk. makes me feel like i can’t trust her, and should carefully control the amount of time i spend with her, and what i share with her. don’t want to get snipped at again. but it sux always having these restrictions.
or am I supposed to like, confront her? is that what normal people do? like, say, “you know i feel uncomfortable with the way the conversation went when i was sharing and you cut me off and said ‘who cares'”? but seems like she would get super defensive and it would be even more awkward. i have actually done something like that with good friends in the past and people do NOT respond well. I’ve tried to be really really nice about it and planned ahead. doesn’t matter, they get defensive as hell. trying to think about how i would respond if someone did that to me. i like to think I’d respond well, but im sure it would feel out of the blue, so i can’t say for sure. damn, idk.
They just left. He took them for a 5.5 hour drive to another state for a college interview tomorrow. then, wednesday, they’re back on the freeway again for another 5.5 hour gamble with their lives.
I may sound dramatic, but I am a person who hasn’t driven on the freeway for over 3 years. it started with flashes of panic while driving on the freeway. so intense that my body flushed hot and my hands felt instantly swollen. worse, i felt like i couldn’t control my hands. and that i was about to veer out of my lane. it was all-encompassing, and i couldn’t breathe. then it would pass. next time would be worse because I’d think omg not again! i started to be afraid it would happen. i started to plan what i’d do. i became afraid to get out of the left lane, because i needed to be able to exit the freeway asap if it came over me. i started avoiding the freeway.
I wasn’t safe. i started getting the panic on highways, going 45 mph. compulsive thoughts would take over my mind, and i would imagine veering into ditches or trees, imagine in greattt. detail. it was excruciating and terrifying. many times i had to take my hands off the wheel, steering with knees or fingertips, because i felt a voice screaming in my head to just DO IT! i was terrified my hands would jerk the wheel of their own volition, or some part of my unconscious that i didnt have access to would make it happen! it felt outside of myself it felt out of my control. it became a significant part of my life: my fear of driving.
my therapist called this OCD. I bought some books. “The Imp of the Mind” was one. i went on forums and read about Pure O and wrote down other people’s advice. i integrated as much as i could. my OCD waxes and wanes, and it’s hard to tell exactly what, if anything, causes it. i have been able to drive on highways fairly anxiety-free for 6 months, but still avoid freeways and curvy mountain roads.
the one thing I keep thinking about is that it started right after my therapist tried to do that light-bar therapy, EMDR. she tried it on me to address the cPTSD. we did it once for a minute, and that night i felt really weird. a couple of weeks later we were going to try for a few minutes, but within seconds i went into a full-blown panic attack. i had never panicked in front of her. actually, i am a very reserved person in public and have managed to avoid “freaking out” in front of people except twice. no, three times. that time with her, once in the dentist chair with that horrible plastic flap covering my mouth, dental dam i think?, and once when i was getting set up to have an MRI on my head. they clamped this plastic cage thing on my head and were about to stick me in the giant pencil sharpener, and i absolutely lost it. it was bad. i ran all they way out of the clinic into the parking lot in they stupid gown with the back open and my butt showing! so humilating 😦 shudder just thinking about it.
do I avoid dentists and MRIs and light-bars now? yes. yes i do. and freeways. i am a person whose life is dictated by fears. im pissed about that. but not sure what to do. they say, “oh just expose yourself a little bit at a time, just a little bit” and yet i can’t help but thinking it only takes a little bit of 70 mph veering to kill me and maybe others. i do force myself to go to the dentist. i have had conscious sedation MRIs. but the freeway, its a hard one for me.
my therapist thinks it stems from this (but, idk): when I was a kid and a young adult. if i would be driving with my mom, we would be talking, as ppl do. normal chat for my mom often turns into highly emotional erratic rants. i have learned to disengage and tune out as much as possible because it’s emotionally and physically painful. she would be jerking her hands in the air (jerking hand–my fear of my hand jerking against my will?) and then, on many, many occasions, she would ask wildly, “what if i were to just drive in front of that truck?!!?!?” i will admit that this scared the shit out of me. few things can make you feel less in control than being in a situation like that. it was terrifying. and the worst part was that there was this enormous pressure to respond Exactly Right. she was teetering on the brink — or was she? — and my life depended on easing her back to reality. and i was a child.
yeah, it could be connected. idk sighhhhhhh fuck
Im Alone in a Little Boat in the Dark with no Oar and a Storm Approaching. this is how I feel with my kids gone and possibly in danger. taking care of them and protecting them has been priority #1 for 17+ years. their dad, my husband of two years, was an alcoholic, drug-addicted, and violent man. he was an unlawful citizen from Russia. he had overstayed his student visa. we thought when we got married, and surely when we had the twins, he would be granted a green card, or at least a work permit. but no. that’s not how it works in America! he was only granted a green card after we divorced and he was arrested several times. because seemingly innocent young fathers who want to work don’t deserve citizenship, but criminals do!/s
he wasn’t innocent tho. he terrorized me, beat me, and even started to abuse them, which is what finally forced me to escape. he threatened me constantly. his dad was the captain of a huge merchant ship that delivered goods up and down the coast every couple of months. my ex-husbands favorite threat was that he would steal the babies and get on his dad’s boat and have his mother raise them. this was logically feasible. and I knew if they got to russia, i would never find them. i lived in constant fear. fear of the minute-by-minute possibility that he would snap and someone would be hurt or worse, and fear that they would all one day be gone. my trusty hypervigilance kicked in, and i stopped sleeping.
eventually it was me who disappeared with them. when they were 14 months, I ran and hid from him until he could be arrested. he was in a deportation holding camp when 9/11 happened, and he told me terrible, just vicious, things that happened to middle eastern detainees after that. then he was just randomly released. he lived in the city, about 90 minutes away, and fell back into heroine, a drug he had escaped for a number of years. crime followed, and right after i moved two states north to get away from his unpredictable visits and constant threats, he was finally deported for these unrelated crimes. they were 5. so it was 5 years of ridiculous hypervigilance. he threatened from Russia too, and altho i felt less afraid, i couldn’t let go of the hypervigilance. i petitioned the school to block their names from yearbooks, i petitioned the state to not seek child support because that would give him our address. not like i expected child support anyway.
his sister, who speaks no english, emailed me once or twice. she said he was cycling thru addiction/crime, prison, and rehab. this made me feel safer. an addict has a hard time orgnizing shit enough to pull off sneaking back into the US. but I would say it wasn’t until the last year or so that i realized i could start to really let it go. they’re practically adults. he can’t really kidnap them now. he would have to try to reason with them, and he wouldn’t be able to convince them to go. we’re finally safe from him. i mean, we may have been safe from him for a decade or more, but i finally feel that we’re safe. that threat has released me. or, i have released that threat?
I do wonder about the timing. how the threat from my ex-husband began to wane just as the threat of the freeway and other types of containment and pain began to build. i understand how PTSD, especially chronic, affects the brain. when you’re so used to being a highly stressed state, relaxing can be uncomfortable, even impossible. the brain just tries to keep the status quo, does what it has to do to keep those stress chemicals flowing. understanding this has helped me to recognize a lot of the thoughts that were my brains way of “doing it’s job”. but i wonder if this stuff is deeper– i suspect my unconscious mind of this bigger mischief.
only once before in the last 17 years have my kids been away from me, not counting sleepovers and mini things like that (which ultimately I am still in control of). when they were 9, i let them go back east with my ex (the one i just split with), let us call him Mark. (took 23 days to give him a fake name.) Mark took them back to meet his family. it was impossible for me to travel because of my back injury, so altho it was weird, his family was super nice, and my kids had a great time. i hated to let them go. flying. being out of my care. being with strangers. mark, an alcoholic, being in charge. i hated all of this. but i didn’t want to stand in the way of my kids having fun, novel experiences. and ive always wanted them to have other people, not just me. and in the long run, it was a great experience for them. i clearly remember going to the airport to pick them up. i was wearing a typical outfit for me, some dark boho witchy style. i remember because i saw my daughters face as they approached me from down a long corridor. i became self-conscious as i saw her study me and i saw her smile drop and a disappointed look come over her face. she was 9, she was just starting puberty. this was the perfect time for her to see me as something separate from her and to reject it, to reject me. it hurt so much, but i knew it was healthy for her to push me away as she figured out who she is. i knew that if i could handle it lovingly and without judgement or expectation, she would eventually, hopefully!, come to accept me for who i am, even love my weirdness. and now that she’s 17 we have a great relationship. we are very, very different. but i feel like she accepts me, and i think that as she becomes an adult, she may even love me just the way i am. but it was hard for many years. hard to be rejected and disliked by someone you love so so much. but that’s parenting!
they were gone for 9 days. (2009, 9 years old, gone 9 days. weird.) this was a very interesting and harrowing experience for me. I remember i had certain plans for what I’d do while they were gone to distract myself. but within hours the silence became like this ominous force in my home. it followed me around, getting closer and closer and heavier and heavier until i felt suffocated. i started to panic. this was before i knew how horrible benzos are for you, so i just started popping them like crazy. finally, by like 6pm, i called my mom and asked if i could come over and stay until my kids came back (weak!). when i got there i was a little better, but i was so antsy. then i found a project, a huge one. my g-ma, who lived with my mom, had a million slides that my granpa had taken over the course of 50 years or so. he was an amature photographer. he had died in 2000, and she had stored all these boxes of slides. so i bought a slide scanner and set to work in the basement. at that time, the slide scanners only scanned 4 at a time. so it took me many very long days to get them all.
so two things came out of this. no, 3. actually, 4:
I was able to make thousands of amazing family pictures accessible for myself and other family members, who did not hate me any less for it.
I popped so many benzos that i got really messed up and decided to look into them and discovered forums online that helped me get off of them for 4 years (until i was put on a high dose in the hospital 3 years ago and havent been able to wean off them again sadly).
my kids got to make connections with a nice family who I think they still feel connected with to this day. if nothing else, they got to experience a different type of family, which has to be good for them.
my kids, or at least my daughter, got a kickstart in differentiation from me, which I know is healthy. i know she really liked/identified with (?) Mark’s mom who is wealthy and ditzy and marterialistic and barbie-doll pretty and super sweet — total opposite of me!
but now I have 3 days without them. two nights. this time’s differnt in ways. they are older, for one. and they have been more and more absent the last few years as they spend time with friends and involved in extra-curriculars. so, im more used to them being gone. im not used to both them and him being gone however. and with their final departure looming (college) in just a few months, something i dread no matter how hard i try not to, there is more significance to them being gone this time. but i have prepared. i have been reaching out to OA people. my #1 priority is to not turn to food, alcohol or pills to distract me from this challenge. i plan to attend an AA meeting today, and OA meetings tomorrow and Wednesday. plus im going to listen to program podcasts and text/call people. i have crochet and knit projects, and some binge TV shows to listen to while i work on them. i have healthy food in the house. the weathers a bit warmer so i am going to take the dogs to the lake as soon as im done writing this. i have a stack of good books and some meditation podcasts set up. i have some yoga videos on youtube ready to go that were recommended to me by a reputable indian friend.
I want to do weird stuff like meditate naked and blast old school dark wave and dance in black robes. im smudging the shit out of the house!
and I am really grateful. maybe it would have helped me to not cling so tightly, but i am so grateful that i don’t have a situation like so many people do: shared custody. specifically, shared custody with an asshole. the idea of having to let my kids go with someone i dont trust on a monthly or weekly basis…not being able to demand to be included in group texts like i did with Mark this morning, or to track them like i do with Life360, or to have to let them go when i don’t i feel its safe and the best thing for them. not having that kind of control and peace of mind. just a horrible thought. at least with my ex-husband — yeah i never got any financial help or a break. and my kids didnt’ have a relationship with their dad. these things really suck. but there are people in very similar situations who have to give their kid(s) up to an irresponsible jerk, possibly even an addict or abuser, and the law protects that bad parents right to time alone with their kids. so, as hard as things have been/are, i am so grateful that was not my situation.
im obvs writing a lot so I don’t have to go deal with life. but one last thing. i was trepidatious about how mark would behave when picking them up. this being the first time we’ve seen each other since he left. i purposely didnt get dress (pjs) or do my hair/makeup. i was friendly and superficial. he hugged me three times, all intiated by him. the first time he did some weird kiss/long sniffing thing with a slight, almost silent, moan. seemed affected, but it’s hard to say. the second two were more normal, and i was like uh, ok, tried to be generic but not rude. the kids were gone for the last one, he had closed the door so i was nervous, and he said i love you. i paused, but said it back just to be polite. stupid, i know. im sure it didnt sound passionate. its just he’s leaving with my kids and i dont want him having negative feelings toward me. idk i feel kinda shitty about it. it was just weird. also, he smelled bad. like old rotten garlic.
so, the lady who I talked crap about yesterday called me today and was super nice and encouraging. yes, im a dick. but, also, i am completely drained after a lifetime of being used by narcopaths. (this is the delightful term my therapist says means pathological narcissists, who would be my grandma, my mom, and most of my partners! :D) maybe it’s true, i can’t deny there’s a pattern. if im an empath (which supposedly just means very empathetic, which i know to be true), then i am a neon sign to these types of people.
its crazy tho, because I really do think im smart and careful and cautious. i have fucking cPTSD from my childhood and struggle with hypervigilance. isn’t the one positive thing of hypervigilance supposed to be that im actually vigilant– like, really, really vigilant? then why do i keep failing to spot these guys? how are they sneaking thru my radar?
it’s the unconscious mind. it’s so much more powerful than my conscious brain. and I just haven’t done things right. i haven’t figured it out. ive tried to be this little baby soldier. but i think im supposed to throw all the armor down and focus on taking care of baby me. that sounds logical. and ridiculous. and impossible. and like a ship that’s sailed long time ago. feeling very discouraged. and fragile.
he keeps texting me. so nice. asking can he come over, can he call, can he help me. baby soldier aint falling for it. hells no. one time he said (something like), “I know if i wanted to, i could have you fall madly in love with me, i could really blow your mind.” wtaf??! who says that? a nut! and who hears that but doesn’t run? another nut!
I swear that every day that passes, i see things clearer. and all these old ladies ive been gathering around me help so much. im grateful every day for older women.
I am nervous about what he’s going to do when i tell him he can’t come home for christmas. i think it best if we just visit him on christmas at his flat, so i can leave when the time comes and can’t be confined with him in a private space. but, i don’t think anyone, he or the kids, will go for it. my son, to whom i suggested the idea, said “ew no, gross.” next best would be letting him come over on christmas day for a few hours. i would have to have my guard up, and maybe lie and act like things are going to be more relaxed between us from then on, agreeing to go back to providing emotional support, etc. which im not going to do. and im nervous about that too– when he finds out that it’s not going to just be ’30 days of no communication’, but ‘forever of no communication’. because i have found that when he doesn’t get what he wants, he does some very sneaky underground crazy stuff that ends up making my life very complicated. he has less ability to do so now, since i have distance. but the financial ties scare me. i believe that’s where he will strike. he has to know im nervous about it. and i need to be prepared for something completely unpredictable and extreme. for myself, it doesnt matter, but a financial blow would definitely upset the kids lives, and he knows how much that would stress me out/hurt me.
I can’t belive im here again — trying to extricate myself and my children from a dangerous relationship ever so carefully. ive got to stop trying to do everything myself, and start looking to other people to show me the way to heal properly and grow stronger and safer. i can’t trust my instincts, they’re all muddled up. and this will be my greatest test of my life: putting my fate in the hands of others. this is that same path i keep running from. the path to a power outside of myself.
Today i saw my old therapist. she only charged me $30 for the hour, which was very generous and appreciated since i have taken on so many expenses with him leaving. she said her practice was not doing well or else she would offer to see me pro bono because she cares about me so much. this made me feel uncomfortable. when she offered to see me no charge two years ago, i couldn’t accept it. and i don’t like the idea of her caring about me, seems unprofessional, and makes me suspicious of her guidance. i think that may be just my trust issues talking, but i am not sure. i have never had a normal relationship with an authority figure, and i don’t know what that would be like. growing up i had no adults i could trust. i was responsible for the care of my little brothers, and felt it was us against the world. when i had my own children, i raised them with the same mentality. i always felt more like a big sister to them than a mother. i have a hard time inhabiting an adult world, as an adult. idk what im saying here.
my therapist listened for a while as I filled her in on my nightmare of a year, and then she got kind of tough-love on me, interrupting with, “why do you listen to anything this man says?” she was frustrated. i admitted that i realize now that i was lying to myself 2 years ago when i discussed him and the nonsense of our relationship and how i was distant from him and protecting myself. that i was actually only doing what i thought he wanted and telling myself i wanted it to. that i was just so desperately trying to get approval from a man who could and would never give it to me. she said she believes strongly that he is a psychopath and knows exactly what he’s doing. idk, maybe this is true. she said when you’re around someone who makes you so confused like this, that’s a sign. i said that ive always been so good at reading people, and he seems so earnestly innocent and seems like he really does care about me in his way, but his actions show something totally different, so i get confused that maybe he is just really fucked up and all the stuff he does is straight out of his unconscious mind, for self-protection or maybe to punish me for perceived slights. but that he doesn’t seem to do it consciously. it’s just crazy to think that i could have read him that wrongly. for 10 years. but either way, whether he devises his cruelty or it just happens because he’s fucked up, i know i can’t be around him. i can’t do it anymore, it was killing me, truly. and that’s what i need to focus on.
then she talked about her ex husband again, which makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it when she tells me about her life or when she cries about her kids. normally, i would feel honored that someone would be open and vulnerable with me, but in this setting, it feels so unprofessional. i think maybe the reason i didn’t want to see her pro-bono is because i was afraid she’d do a lot more crying and personal stuff. like, she told me she had dreams about me, etc. it just felt super awkward. but, it’s a small town and $30 is manageable, and i like her in a lot of ways.
then I decided to go all in and attend an OA meeting afterward. i really did not want to do this for numerous reasons. sighhhhh. but i know i need to reach out and start making connections in order to be less isolated. on the way to the meeting he texted, “<3 have you thought any more about [college city]”. they’re going next mon, tues, weds and he got a really awesome hotel downtown. he’s insists he wants me to go, and maybe he’s sincere, who knows. one thing i know for sure is that i DO NOT want to go. i was clear with him before that i am not going. i didn’t respond to his text.
the OA meeting was at a church. I have trouble with churches, too many bad memories. when i went in i saw that it was only 2 ladies, both whom i remembered from before, both who i liked. they were really nice to me. when it came time for me to talk, i gave a very brief explanation of why i stopped going (trouble with the 3rd step– higher power), and the fact that I’d recently experienced a deep betrayal that led to extreme dissociation and depression. but altho I’ve gained 75 (!) pounds since i saw them last, i’d also lost 150 two weeks ago when i kicked out my bf of 10 years. clever stuff/s
they gave me their numbers and took mine and said they’re going to harass me. they’re really nice, and I think they get it. one of the ladies is 70 something. i used to hang out with her a bit when i went before. we’d go on walks. she’s really a wise one, but something about her troubles me, makes me uncomfortable, scares me. not sure what it is. i think it’s because she smells bad. like she doesn’t shower or wash her clothes. i know full well that’s a sign of depression, but she acts so chipper. she really seems like the cheeriest person. but she openly talks about how she always felt like she had to “have a ham hock around her neck to get kids to play with her”. weird analogy, but i get it. so she is not hiding the fact that she desperately needs approval. which would explain the cheeriness. part of me thinks that scares me because i don’t want to be there if she snaps into depression mode, because i wont know how to deal with it, dont want to get drawn in to another person’s emotional demands (ie my mom). another part of me thinks it scares me because i relate too closely. either way, i feel selfish, wanting the help, but not wanting to give it. wishing i could be an island. telling myself that not every older woman will be like my mom.
then this weird thing happened, which happens to me sometimes and i hate so much. i got her smell on me. i can still smell her. it’s been hours. she gave me a good long hug, but that couldn’t have done it, right? its got to be psychological? some kind of phantom smell? idk i have to go get dinner ready, but im going to change my clothes and pull my hair up and try not to think about it. ):
Life brings only good experiences. I am open to new and wonderful changes.
Before he even left, I started to prepare myself for what might happen. i realize now that i had been preparing for years, but this extra care did help. i bought books, a new yoga DVD, new underwear that he’d never seen or touched. and i bought a panda planner. seems overkill for someone who doesn’t work, but i wanted to plan the shit out of my breakdown/breakthru, whichever came. one of the sections in my daily pages is for an affirmation. the above is my affirmation for today.
I have a hard time with things like this. i am, like most people are im sure, of two minds. the skeptic and the believer. throughout my life i have veered between the two. in my childhood, very young, i remember thinking about this and deciding that i would be a believer, a daydreamer, and a romantic. or that i would fake it as much as possible. that’s pretty gross, really. one of my earliest memories is being 4 years old with my sister and a neighbor girl named Sandy. we were romping in our backyard with our dog, a boistrous yellow lab who had an irrepressible taste for stuffed animal guts, when I got it into my mind to climb to the top of the shed. i convinced sandy to join me, but my sister chose to stay on the ground reminding us every few minutes how stupid we were and how much trouble we were gonna get in. it was central california, it was twilight, and the sky was the palest blue with streaks of faint salmon pink on the horizon. from our roost on the shed we could see over the fence for the first time, and the neighbor’s yard was beyond disappointing. but i spied a streak of vapor in the sky from a plane — early chem trails no doubt 😀 — and i decided to have fun. i pretended it was an alien ship coming for us, coming for all of mankind. i remember deciding to act this out. i really got myself worked up. my sister was used to my nonsense, i believe she was an early prototype for squidward, but i got sandy really riled. we screamed and spazzed out on the top of the shed, and i grabbed sandy and told her, “this is it sandy, we’re going to have to jump we have to it’s the only way!” she said “you first.” and so i jumped. and sprained my ankle pretty bad. had to go to the hospital, etc. that’s why i remember it, i think. the pain. pain really seers things into our memories. at least some version of the experience.
I was a lonely, self-aware, observant child with a precocious streak that i had trouble controlling, even in dangerous times. i decided in high school to go along with the christian god thing. especially the exorcisms and demons and eternal torment. i was terrified a lot, and had some very weird experiences that i really can’t explain except to assume the power of imagination of a very troubled kid. once i was kicked out of my home and exposed to different types of families and people, i was graced with the distance i needed to look at my childhood objectively and see it for the balogna it was. and everything fell away. all the lies. not just the ones others told, but the ones i told myself. and i shed those lies only to live within the confines of new, deeper, subtler ones.
Cold Son* sings:
you will have your freedom then, and a brand new cage for you to be in.
I still lie to myself all the time. i keep realizing it anew. it’s so crazy. because i work on myself constantly. it’s a personality tick– i notice a problem or a weird thing, and i can’t stop picking at it until I’ve got a huge painful mess. i have been told by more than one therapist that i am “remarkably self-aware”. and yet i constantly deceive myself. and the strange part is, i somehow know it at the time. its like a shadow knowledge. later, once something is fully revealed, i see that shadow very clearly and know that i always knew. i see the mechinations of my duplicity, but at the time im oblivious. this way i can partake in my bullshit wide-eyed and innocent.
this is the two selves. the conscious and unconscious? i started by talking about how skeptical i am of affirmations, but how i also think, “fuck it, why not? brainwash myself? im in! if it’s not me, it’ll just be somebody else, right?” but ended up talking about the see-saw dynamic of the conscious/unconscious. i guess the correlation is that i felt like an idiot while repeating my affirmation today in the car, like a real robot dumbass. “life only brings good experiences” is some seriously twisted philosophical shit. and you have to truly believe in life to believe that.
but the truth is, im of the mind that life isn’t all that. like, take it or leave it. am i glad i was born? meh. am i afraid to die? well, sort of, the pain part, the horror, that effect on my fam, but being dead? fuck it, i don’t care. people die in so many jacked up ways. i hate knowing how people die, because it colors their whole life, this morbid wash just seeps into everything. all my memories of them have that gory factoid shitting on the whole scene. i hate that. and death is so unfair — diseases, car accidents, random crime, purposeful crime, stupid decisions that everyone makes, but for some ppl? bam they’re dead — that’s some bs! some ppl get taken out young, some die at the worst times and other people just go on and on with no explanation. to me all this says is that death is a joke. i don’t believe in an afterlife. but when death is such bs like that, makes you not even believe in life. what’s the point? why try? there’s nothing to hold on to. ephemera, man. energy candy.
OK, i’m ranting and not saying anything. basically, the affirmation annoyed me, but i did it anyway. i’m doing all this “stupid” stuff anyway. i’m torn because i believe both– nay, i believe neither. yeah, i’m just going thru the motions pretending that something’s happening. or will happen. or whatever. same thing as me on the shed trying to make things matter. same thing as all the roles i inhabited with passion and the games i willing played with my ex. thinking it was going to make a difference. were those “all good experiences”, Louise Hay? she would say yes, i know. but i feel like i’m just killing time, waiting for what? idk
wish i could express myself better today. on a positive note — no contact with him in two days so !
*this is a goddamn beautiful song:
Pro-Tip: best way to listen to it: earbuds, swings, twist around the chain as much as possible, close your eyes and lean back as you untwist and retwist and untwist again and again. open your eyes if the sky is beautiful…sighhhh so good
Station H 