Friday, April 29, 2011

just a bitch

I committed a mortal sin - I asked him why he hasn't moved out yet. I didn't cry but I did sound quietly frustrated and upset. It's going into the third month and he has done little toward ending his relationship and living arrangements with her. I was a bitch and spoke my mind...not really spoke it, wrote it. And now I get to be ignored because I have bothered him and as he tells it "everyone is coming at him from every direction." Well, no dah! You created your nightmare and you are choosing to stay in your nightmare. Why I'm there...I'm not so sure. Maybe I am just as slow as him when it comes to making a change.

Oh, that's a depressing thought but one I should examine. Why am I there? Oh, that's right - it's love. Does that mean I have to be lied to, betrayed, taken advantage of and treated like garbage?

In my family that's probably true. Oh, I guess it's one more thing I need to take corrective action against - being treated like shit. No more physical abuse - CHECK; no more emotional abuse - WORKING ON IT.

I may never get out of therapy.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

What is love?

I never imagined I would quote anything from the Bible, not even loosely. But here it goes:

First Corinthians 13: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."


I ended the session with Dr. B this afternoon by telling her that I was an "amazing woman." Her face broke into a very warm and beaming smile and she said "now that's what I like to hear you say." Yes, that's what I like to believe and I do often now. My perspective is changing and I am looking at my life differently. Oh, the trauma hasn't disappeared and the pain has not evaporated but I realize now how incredibly strong I was to endure and survive what I did. Speaking about my abusive husband #1, I told Dr. B that I didn't walk out into the ocean with my two babies to drown, I protected my children and I left him. That was an internal strength that has been with me all my life. Whatever it is that sits in my core, sits in my childrens' as well. They have suffered untold injuries growing up but they never felt unloved or uncared for and that internal strength that has kept me going for decades is part of them as well.


Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The pendulum has swung back

Oh, ain't mood swings grand?
I took a breath. I ate lunch with a friend. I feel better.

Until therapy at 4:30.

up and now down

I came into work this morning feeling charged and ready to greet the day with optimism and enthusiasm. Then he came into my thoughts - my love for him; my disappointment; my hurt from his betrayal. And my eyes welled up with tears and my stomach knotted up. I wrote him an email which he may or may not read -- same shitty sentiments, different date. But my last line got to me, "You had 10 days off and I got 20 minutes, once. Does that seem fair to you?" That realization made me cry...not just because it was true this time; it's been true every time since he started working there and having those 10 days off. And every year I would cry for him to spend time with me and he had a million excuses, always, but what I didn't know was that he was spending those 10 days off with his new girlfriend in his new home.

No, No, No...I won't go there anymore and cry. He's the shit, not me.

I'm just the fool part way up the hill.  Maybe I need to move to flatter ground.

Promises to myself

I promise to take care of myself - physically, emotionally, spiritually
I promise to minimize the impact on me of the drama of others
I promise to pay attention to my life
I promise not to put the needs of everyone else before my own
I promise not to let "his" issues and lies damage me anymore than they already have
I promise to get my finances in order
I promise to explore activities that I enjoy
I promise to pursue friendships
I promise to love my children and help them heal
I promise to encourage and praise those I love
I promise to lose weight
I promise to laugh out loud
I promise to acknolwedge the blessings in my life
I promise to allow myself joy
I promise to forgive those who hurt me
I promise to overcome my shame
I promise to believe in myself
I promise to let go of my anger
I promise to forgive myself

It seems like way too many promises but really they are just one...
Love myself
and the rest will fall into place.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

who got fucked over the most?

Call me crazy but I don't think it was me. I hurt at the betrayal but I'm not stunned anymore. I'm angry at the betrayal but it's not consuming me anymore. I know I can forgive and I'm certain I will be able one day soon to stop reliving the nightmare of the last six years.

But he can't. He fucked himself over really good. Everyone's angry at him, yelling at him, maybe even hating him. He can't forgive himself or look at himself. He's consumed with self loathing. He doesn't sleep well; he doesn't eat; he is miserable and angry with himself. Should he be? Absolutely. Should his loved ones be angry with him? Absolutely. He was afraid and selfish and desperate and took actions with concern only for himself. He used people who loved him and he lied to everyone, including himself. And he betrayed me, his most loved. It's fucked up, no question.

But I feel empathy and compassion for him. He's not a mean person. He's a weak person. I never realized how fearful he was of life but he is. He took risks and he lost and he blames the world and his parents and his life and he's consumed with all the wrongs that were done to him. Oh, this is all my theory but I suspect I'm not really that far off, if truth were to be discovered. We were both victimized and it's hard when you are no longer young and look back at your failures in life not to blame those that took advantage of you and abused you. We both denied in our ways and we both suffered the consequences. Life was not kind to either of us.

So I understand his feelings of  victimization, desperation and anger. I know right now what is going on is killing him inside. He's living with unbelievable shame and everywhere he turns he is reminded of what he did. Most especially when he looks at me who, despite it all, still loves him and cares for him.  It's a bitch.

I have this anxious ache in the pit of my stomach that he is going to tell me he can't work things out with me. He won't be able to get over himself (again) and move in a positive direction. I write this because he is fragile and weak. He cannot even move and I tend to think it is because he doesn't want to. But really I think he's just too afraid to be alone with  himself in a small apartment where he has to live with the consequences of his actions. Fear is dominating his life . That and the fear of rejection from everyone in his family. But he has lived his life trying to please everyone, commiting to no one, and he's miserable. It's terribly sad.

All these thoughts are what are flowing through my brain this morning. Whether they are true, I have no idea. Whether I will believe them tomorrow, I don't know that either. It's today.

I made a promise to myself (again) that I would not let this nightmarish drama damage my life anymore than it has already matter what ultimately happens with him.

Monday, April 25, 2011

He had a garden

From almost the moment I met him, I found myself telling him how one day I was going to have a garden and grow not only vegetables but beautiful flowers which would grace the tables throughout our home. Oh, such lovely visions I had of us sharing a pot of coffee on the terrace surrounded by a wild eden of gorgeous, colorful, gently scented flowers, vines, bushes and trees.

But, no.  He created his garden and his yard with her, not me. But that was their dream, not mine. I will find someone to share my garden with me...maybe it will just be my faithful dog and the occasional (or frequent) guests. He listens and hey, he never argues with me. Sometimes, he tugs the leash in the other direction but that's about the extent of his disagreement.

What else did I dream of? A library - filled with books, floor to ceiling and a comfortable reading nook where could I curl up and lose myself in the soulful prose of writers, some of whom I have loved for decades; others to be newly discovered. And we would share our finds with one another and our inspirations and our love.

He probably has a library as well. But I will never know and I don't want to know. I made the mistake of driving by his house. I swore I wouldn't do it but I did and now, well, now, I feel totally disheartened and angry.

It's time to carry on with my life. If something is meant to happen between us again, I suppose it will. But I am going to live my life, today and every day, from this moment forward. I love him and in my own way, I pray that he will find his truth and peace. And I pray everyday that I will find strength and wholeness to pick up the pieces and move forward in life.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Grace Happens

What is grace? Can we live a life filled with grace? I don't understand the concept of grace - there but for the grace of god go I. Grace is a gift of god. You can't control it; you can't earn it. You can accept it. You can let go and receive it. I'm not a believer in a traditional Christian benevolent all-knowing God. So this religious weekend I find myself struggling with my own unique beliefs and experiences that connect me to the transcendent nature of the world. How do I define my spiritual beliefs? I don't know yet what my spiritual path is...I'm searching for those answers.

"Life is fresh with the Grace of God." And so it is, if we are willing to see.

Here's what I found on the internet: Grace confounds certain very natural human tendencies. We want to believe we are in control. We assume there are specific moves we can take to ensure that we are rewarded. We expect God's gifts to be doled out according to some recognizable plan.

But grace does not work that way. Instead, it teaches us to let go and let God. Not only are we not in charge, we don't have to be. We just need to stay open to receiving the sacred.

Receptivity, in turn, requires that we give up shame — those persistent feelings that we are unworthy, that we don't deserve all that we have, that we're not as good as people assume, that we've messed up, that our whole life is a mistake. Grace doesn't listen to that litany. It isn't based on a scorecard.

Grace happens.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

twice baked - the other woman

Nancy Calef, Painter
The first time I walked into the relationship with my eyes wide open (and a traumatized mind).  I was wracked with guilt (not so much remorse) over being the destroyer of a marriage (no, not enough to stop me).

The second time around I was deaf, dumb, and blind! And again I will be accused of ruining a six year relationship. There will be no empathy for me, the persistent homewrecker.

It's not me though. It's him. I could say he preyed upon me, took advantage of my weaknesses... but I played the game and I knew in my heart things were not quite right. But did I ever imagine this? No.

Infidelity? Yes, it wouldn't be the first time. But another life, a new home, parents, children, holidays, the whole nine yards? Never. Yes, I had many clues but this kind of betrayal just didn't enter my consciousness. I am good at denial, no questions asked. And I asked no questions.

Friday, April 08, 2011

you've been slammed

I haven't been coping well with everything. Wait...maybe I have been considering all that I have to work through.

Dr. B, who is normally very quiet and calm, was explaining to me that "yes, it is okay for me to be depressed and upset" - after all, I have been continually slammed. And she told me this with great animation. She raised her arm and slammed her hand on her leg (she's a very petitie woman but the point was dramatically made) while she shouted out "you got slammed" and then raised her arm again and shouted "and slammed again" as she slapped her hand against her thigh. Again and again, five times she demonstrated the slam. And I've been slammed way more than five times in the last couple of years.