I feel like if I want to write, I need to stop making excuses for not writing. I think if anything writing is exactly what I need at this point in my life. Some peace and quiet, no responsibilities, just getting it out there.
I've been so numb guarded this year. I know that my life is in a transition phase so I've been letting things hit my armor and just slide right off. I've been doing my best at least. Trying to remain strong. Trying my best to be resilient, undefeated, in control, powerful, and radiant. But, I see that the things I've been working on in my self over the past few years are showing up like a test to see if I can utilize these tools to help myself not be traumatized by this year of my life. So when the tears want to come, I let them. They fall until they decide that's enough, I wipe them away, and keep moving. I've learned that crying is a way for my body to regulate my nervous system. I do not shame myself or pity myself for being weak. I am weak sometimes, but only because sometimes I've carried too much for too long and need to set it down before I can pick it up again to carry on.
I'm not used to writing. Not like I used to. Bobby really killed that in me. Not that he wasn't supportive, or too nosy. He never read anything I wrote, but I don't think I shared a whole lot. He always thought I was writing about him, always so insecure. He demanded comfort, and that was frequently through quality time- doing whatever he wanted. So it took all time I used to use for myself- to write, or play piano or whatever I wanted, he took it for himself. I wanted to, so don't let me paint him as a villain. We always enjoyed hanging out. Past tense. We had a good time, but after 10 years of the same thing, I just couldn't keep doing it. Not when it wasn't what I wanted to do. After I stopped enjoying being with him, I would be in my room doing whatever I wanted and he would ask me to come watch tv, and I would say no I don't want to. He once said, "I thought we were going to try in this relationship." as he sulked downstairs alone.
Acting is only reacting. Every word out of your mouth is a decision. How do I respond to his lines? Life is improv at its greatest. He wanted me to go along with his script, and when I refused to play he became infuriated and would emotionally manipulate and abuse me. His emotions became more and more uncontrolled. He was constantly furious with me for one reason or another, and when there wasn't any sensible reason to be- then he would go back in history and pick something I had done months before that he was still seething about.
We separated from our marriage a few days before Christmas, but due to life in this century we had to remain living together. They had met someone new and wanted to hook up. He let me know a week in advance so that I could make arrangements, but respectfully said if it was too hard then no worries. (Oh, there were worries though) I thought about it, and the next day I explained how hard that would be for me because that was a day I work 10 hours and would need to come back to the house and get my clothes and the dog right in the middle of the evening before driving to my parents house 30 minutes away, so I hoped he realized how inconvenient that was for me and I said no, I wasn't able to stay somewhere else that night. He said Ok! (It was not OK)
Then one night two weeks later he had started a fight with me over something I can't remember now and was being so mean and really infuriating me. It's exhausting living with someone you no longer want to be married to. I had a long weekend at work, and so without saying anything to him, because I'm in survival mode, I took the dog and went to my parents for the weekend. Anytime I could not be at the house, I wasn't. Well he's mad because he could've had someone over that weekend if I had told him. I said, I don't care if you get fucked- you made me so mad that I couldn't even speak to you anymore.
Two months later he is calling me a hypocrite- because he communicated with me and I didn't do the same for him. But not just name calling, he's standing at my doorway while I'm right there putting my clothes in my closet, screaming at me- red faced, eyes bulging, arms waving in the air wildly - completely unglued. So I turned and just met their eyes and said, "You need to calm down." (He did NOT calm down, but he's done this to me before so I wanted him to know how it feels.) That's when he starts blethering on about my mom and grandma.
My mom went through some dark times when I was in my childhood, I've had a lot of thoughts on it as I've grown into an adult. Stemming from- she should know better, to seeing it as abuse, to understanding that maybe as a mom of 5 she was a slave to the family and had right to her anger, to potentially a post partum rage... who knows, but the voice that had screamed at me countless times and scarred the heart of my inner child found its power and from the bottom of my butt came rearing its ugly head at the tall dark and handsome man that had been terrorizing my life for far too long. I still can't imagine using it on a child, but a power I didn't know I had emerged from my soul and unleashed generations of women who have been asked to do too much by men who don't do enough on the correct target. For good measure, and without full control of my body I took my slipper off and held it in my hand ready to beat him with me. That's when I saw my message had been received by the fear in their eyes and cowering body language. I knew if I threw that slipper he'd throw me a charge, so I walked away and slammed the door behind me.
He came knocking maybe half an hour later saying he was out of line to talk about my family and begging to put this behind us. The first lesson I learned with my mom when I was a child, was that if people are forgiven- they're just going to keep doing it. Plus, with every fight we had in that house, he would come scrambling to apologize because he hated the animosity, but he never actually thought he was wrong because before he was done apologizing he had started something else or was continuing it on. If I didn't accept his apology he would start screaming at me immediately. But that was only because he was never apologizing for the right thing, or the full thing, they were always only a half assed apology just like everything else he had ever done. He hated that I saw him that way too, imperfect. He thinks its a fault with me, but really it's just that I saw him for who he really was and he hated that.
He resents that I know he isn't as good as his delusions let him believe. He is a narcissist, and now that I've figured that out he needs to get rid of me. Sure, there were a lot of things going on in our relationship, but the biggest one was that he wasn't putting forth any effort. In the relationship, in life, to leave the house, anything,
"You know we could just fill out the paperwork and be divorced today right??" He said angrily and accusatorily.
"Then why don't you do it?" I retorted.
So, we are still married, but the house is officially "Coming Soon" and I've done everything myself to get us here. I don't have enough money to pay for a lawyer, I'm tempted to stand on the corner looking hot with a sign that says "Help me divorce my narcissist of a husband" with my venmo linked. But, I've been conditioned to think that everything I want to do isn't worth actually doing, and being a chronic people pleaser has me not knowing who to allow to make all the decisions in my life. Now faced with the Wide and Open Prairie, I'm a little lost.
This is long enough, sorry to word vomit a bit, but there's a lot in my head and maybe if I don't get it down I'll lose it forever. Maybe that's a good thing, but I think I'll want to look back on this in 10 years to sort out whatever trauma it leaves me with.
prguitarman
origamiaround
