I still have flash anger spells. Lying in bed before I decided to try to human
today, I flash back to things he said and ways he defended his whores. I remember things he said to denigrate my
feelings and my blood boils, my jaw clenches and my heart races. My dog Archer senses these spells in me. Sometimes he’ll bark at me until I calm down
but this morning he just jumped off the bed and crawled to his safe space under
it.
Putting dishes away reminded me of every other morning I’ve
put dishes away since I met him: alone.
And for the past 2 years, crying.
But today it’s like a brand new break up.
I hate my life. I
hate this place I live where the dinosaur upstairs terrifies Lucy to the point
of shaking for 2 hours, and not eating breakfast. I hate the other piece of shit neighbor that
has forced me to bring the dogs with me every time I leave the house even
more. I hate that our doors are two
handed devices. I hate that when I leave
to walk them first thing in the morning I have to wear shoes, a bra, bring keys
when women’s clothes have no fucking pockets, and carry Lucy down the flight of
stairs to get there. I hate that I have
to scout the hallway before walking it for fear of my dogs sounding like
assholes and scaring someone.
In my facebook
memories, which let’s face it will be hell forever now, I am reminded of this
day 3 years go when I hurt my neck and just another example of him not only no
taking me seriously, but laughing at my expense and making jokes.
“I hate that I love you”
“I don’t trust you with my heart.” Yet he sent me a long email explaining how
the physical development of his childhood and teen years still affect him to
this day. Why share that with me if he doesn't trust me?
I only made half the bed today. Because I just couldn’t
be bothered to go to the other side of the bed.
Everything hurts. Everything is
harder than it has to be and harder for other people.
Going to the grocery store, I have to bring the
dogs. I risk losing both them and my car
because I leave it running with the AC on so I don’t get the cops called on me. Lucy starts acting aggressive toward Archer,
snarling at him and relegating him to the back seat. I think because there is a bag of food back
there. Passing the grocery store, they
hear someone in the parking lot, you know, talking like a normal person. What do they do? Freak the fuck out, bark like monsters, and
try their damnest to crawl over me to get to the window. I yell at them and cry when I park because I
just can’t fucking do this anymore. When
I get home it has to be another walk for them, and I can’t bring the groceries
and them in together because I don’t have enough hands. So I walk them up the stairs, lock them on
the patio so they don’t bother anyone indoors, go back downstairs, get the
groceries and bring them up and unlock them.
It shouldn’t have to be like this.
We got these dogs together. But when
he went to school for a year, a mere 6 months into our marriage it was all on
me. “I can just go to school and you’ll
take care of Lucy by yourself right?”
And when he deployed, it was the same but with 2 dogs this time. At least then I had financial ability to
provide all their needs.
I had to dye my hair yesterday. What used to be bright and beautiful, pink
and purple. What used to symbolize how I
felt inside. What used to make me feel
beautiful and whole and how I was meant to present to the world… is now
dark. And makes me look old.
I remember the first time I noticed how my pink and
purple hair had changed me. I was
walking around Las Vegas with my awesome hair and no makeup on, and I couldn’t have
been more carefree! I didn’t even think
about putting on a face before I left my room.
And it wasn’t as though I was addicted to it before, or I think I have
bad skin I am trying to cover. I just
like the way I look with makeup on, and happen to know how to do it incredibly
well.
So I knew I would hate my hair any other color. Especially natural colors. This is the first time I have to go stand in
front of a room full of people I admire and respect without my hair, but with this ugly imposter
hair. I couldn’t bring myself to go
barefaced. Even though I have been for
over two years now. I look just as tired
as I feel, but at least with bright hair it wasn’t as bad. Now that its dark, the bags under my eyes are
more prominent. My dull and sallow skin
appears transparent, the angry capillaries threatening to break through and
spear someone. I have baby hamster eyes
that get lost in a sea of paleness surrounded by dark depths.
***
"Know that you are in the worst bout of illness I've ever seen you."
Says the man that didn't eat or sleep for a month. Says the man that looked like shit and crazy when he showed up at my work, a yoga studio, trying to get me fired. Says a man who claimed he had a private detective following me around, one whom was very impressed with the work he had done already, showing me a very thick yellow envelope. Says the man who tried to run me over in the parking lot of a bar, while I was walking with the manager, already scared he would show up. Says the man who ran me off the road several times, driving maniacally, then asking me out to coffee.
Yes, I am the one who is "embarrassing myself incredibly."
"You were a hypersexual unfaithful deceitful bitch of a wife." Really, am I the one who lost my virginity and next 3 encounters with a prostitute in Amsterdam? Or am I hypersexual because you didn't want to fuck me daily? Or even weekly?
"I will block you myself if you do not leave to rest either of these couples."
Neither of them are couples anymore and the women in both of these "couples" are whores he has fucked. "Because no matter what I say or do, it is your own guilt and your own suspicion that prevents us from living in the present." No, it isn't the fact that he is still sexting and writing erotica for these so-called-friend's wives. Not that at all. And in his defense, he claims he isn't fucking them, not because he would never do that. No, he didn't fuck them because she/they would never have him. As if. She is so fucking high up on a pedestal, that he wouldn't be good enough for her? So what does that make me? "Yeah because I got it like that. Girls who used to go after alphas now suddenly want a beta like me." This is not what a man who loves his wife says. A man who loves and only wants his wife says, "I would never with them. They're not my type. You are my type." Instead he is claiming the only reason he didn't fuck them (which he did), is because they wouldn't want him. Yet he admits to fucking one of them, and claims the other one was "like a sister". Does a sister message her friend's husband and say "Let her go. I'm drunk. Call me now." at 12:15am? No. That is a booty call.
"You are on my pedastal. The only one."
"We need to place the dogs. Find humanitarian homes for them." .... because I am unwilling whatsoever to care for these dogs that we obtained together.
"It is like you were in hiding the entire time. You seemed to be in conflict with my health, my sobriety, and my proximity. For those things threatened to reveal you. You've said as much yourself."
I revealed all of me to you from the very beginning. You chose to see what you wanted and ignore what you didn't. I was never in hiding and I was never in conflict with your health because you have never been healthy a single day I have known you. You are in conflict with your own health and blame me for that because you are weak.
> sends me useless fucking video and claims "It would stun you, help you and give you insight into picking" (It absolutely did none of these things but I suppose to someone who knows nothing of what they speak like he does, it would stun him).
> sends me a stupid selfie of his stupid face I never want to see again
> I send him evidence of how much skin I have picked off my scalp in a trance. His response, "That's a pretty blue {speaking of a piece of jewelry he bought me also in the picture}. I'm sure it complements your skintone and hair color perfectly."
I have 2 major problems with this. 1. Fucking acknowledge me. 2. You don't even know what fucking color my hair is.
> Sends me video of a panda bear eating a popsicle
> sends me this
***
"I can't help you. Support you like one survivor to another... that's about all I can do. Hey sorry your day sucks."
"So strange. You are on a tear today. I don't know where the fuck this is coming from. Please find some peace. I cannot adjust to your false reality. I downloaded a book on your condition. An M unlocks my phone. Your painting is my home screen. You know I love you and today your rant is about your confusion and pain. So disconnected. You're twisted. This is it, huh? Over a non-truth? This is so strange. You're becoming like Glenn Close. Let me know when this passes ok? Then we can talk about us." LIKE THERE IS ANY FUCKING "US" TO TALK ABOUT WHEN HE REFUSES TO HELP ME WHATSOEVER.
"Remember what a high you were on a week ago? Resilient, above the fray, permeating all of your troubles?" This never happened. What he is referring to is one solitary walk I took with the dogs. I was not on a high, my life was still shit. I was -$27 in the bank and all my bills were due. This is how he skews my "troubles" and my reactions to them. "You were strangely kind and patient and preaching resilience to me." Hmm, yeah kindness happens when you offer someone in need help. Someone you claim to love who is hurting very badly. And you offer something they cannnot do for themselves. Then when you do not actually give that help, and in fact scoff at the person for even thinking you COULD help them, you get what he calls, "the other end of it."
"Know that you are in the worst bout of illness I've ever seen you."
Says the man that didn't eat or sleep for a month. Says the man that looked like shit and crazy when he showed up at my work, a yoga studio, trying to get me fired. Says a man who claimed he had a private detective following me around, one whom was very impressed with the work he had done already, showing me a very thick yellow envelope. Says the man who tried to run me over in the parking lot of a bar, while I was walking with the manager, already scared he would show up. Says the man who ran me off the road several times, driving maniacally, then asking me out to coffee.
Yes, I am the one who is "embarrassing myself incredibly."
"You were a hypersexual unfaithful deceitful bitch of a wife." Really, am I the one who lost my virginity and next 3 encounters with a prostitute in Amsterdam? Or am I hypersexual because you didn't want to fuck me daily? Or even weekly?
"I will block you myself if you do not leave to rest either of these couples."
Neither of them are couples anymore and the women in both of these "couples" are whores he has fucked. "Because no matter what I say or do, it is your own guilt and your own suspicion that prevents us from living in the present." No, it isn't the fact that he is still sexting and writing erotica for these so-called-friend's wives. Not that at all. And in his defense, he claims he isn't fucking them, not because he would never do that. No, he didn't fuck them because she/they would never have him. As if. She is so fucking high up on a pedestal, that he wouldn't be good enough for her? So what does that make me? "Yeah because I got it like that. Girls who used to go after alphas now suddenly want a beta like me." This is not what a man who loves his wife says. A man who loves and only wants his wife says, "I would never with them. They're not my type. You are my type." Instead he is claiming the only reason he didn't fuck them (which he did), is because they wouldn't want him. Yet he admits to fucking one of them, and claims the other one was "like a sister". Does a sister message her friend's husband and say "Let her go. I'm drunk. Call me now." at 12:15am? No. That is a booty call.
"You are on my pedastal. The only one."
"We need to place the dogs. Find humanitarian homes for them." .... because I am unwilling whatsoever to care for these dogs that we obtained together.
"It is like you were in hiding the entire time. You seemed to be in conflict with my health, my sobriety, and my proximity. For those things threatened to reveal you. You've said as much yourself."
I revealed all of me to you from the very beginning. You chose to see what you wanted and ignore what you didn't. I was never in hiding and I was never in conflict with your health because you have never been healthy a single day I have known you. You are in conflict with your own health and blame me for that because you are weak.
> sends me useless fucking video and claims "It would stun you, help you and give you insight into picking" (It absolutely did none of these things but I suppose to someone who knows nothing of what they speak like he does, it would stun him).
> sends me a stupid selfie of his stupid face I never want to see again
> I send him evidence of how much skin I have picked off my scalp in a trance. His response, "That's a pretty blue {speaking of a piece of jewelry he bought me also in the picture}. I'm sure it complements your skintone and hair color perfectly."
I have 2 major problems with this. 1. Fucking acknowledge me. 2. You don't even know what fucking color my hair is.
> Sends me video of a panda bear eating a popsicle
> sends me this
Granted, this is at a point that he knows I can't pay rent. I can't pay bills. I am going out of my mind. I am about to lose my dogs because I can't care for them by myself. His response, "You need to be redirected sometimes. There's nothing I can say. YOU DON'T WANT ME TO FIX ANYTHING. I can't help like you're asking for."
I have not asked for a fucking thing but some goddamn compassion and acknowledgement. I ask him how he thinks he has helped me. He answers, "Ballet lessons." Because yes. When I am drowning, please let me go to ballet to forget all my worries. In DC. An hour away. One day in fact, I was in an accident on my way to said ballet lesson. Am I supposed to thank him? Can I pay my bills with that ballet lesson I almost didn't make it to? I don't even have to wonder if he would even care if I had been splattered on the pavement. No. He wouldn't.
Yet he always finds compassion and empathy for his whores he is so attached to. They get all the compassion and conversation in the world, including intimate details of our relationship and me. They get that. And I get a panda.
"A drowning man cannot save you."
As opposed to, "I don't want anyone but you. I hope our roads converge after healing and growth. I want our lives to come back together. So... get healthy. Lets do this. You are profoundly ill right now. Please get well. I will wait."
Yes, go fuck yourself he says, get healthy on your own because I refuse to help you. No, whats worse, is that I offer you help I just do not give. And then I call you crazy for thinking that I can or will, despite my saying I would. And I force you to go onto your own, one with no means, no income, no support whatsoever, and then once you become cool and sane again, I want you back.
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