Depression and Hope

I’ve been in a deep depression, mourning my marriage. It was especially bad a couple of days ago. My therapist called and said my husband had called him. He wanted to know if I would give permission to speak to him. Well, this was news to me, so when he got home I of course asked him why he wanted to speak to my therapist.
We then actually talked more than we have in a very long time, which is sad. I don’t feel like I can cry in front of him, and I’m not good at keeping that shit under control, so if it starts spilling over too much I’ve been shutting myself away somewhere out of sight. (bathroom, porch, etc) Well I’m not as quiet as I try to be so he was hearing me cry. Honestly I thought he had his headphones on anyway. Between that and my attempt to talk to him through sobs a few weeks ago I had him thinking I might try something foolish. I do have a history of it, so it was not an unreasonable worry. I told him my heart is broken. He reiterated that I could stay here. I brought up that I asked him to help me improve the relationship and he said no. I brought up feeling like he was not interested in me and did not respect me and if he believed the horrible things he had said it was a problem. So yeah I guess we just sort of rehashed things, but it was still the most actual back and forth conversation we’ve had in ages.
My cats are wonderful but I do need intellectual stimulation as well. I love to learn, read, and then discuss these things. I’m interested in literature, art, travel, philosophy, mythology, movies, botany, archaeology, space, etc. (I also have a very dark streak, which is the goth in me I suppose.) I like talking about these things. I like getting new perspectives. I like the speculation. I suppose I could go find some discussions online but it’s not really the same. I did go to lunch with my friend over the weekend and we talked about travel a little. I had never told her about any of the places I’ve been before. Right before we got together I was planning a trip to Oaxaca for The Day of the Dead. He came with me, which was awesome. I love travel so very much. The logistics of it has become difficult since I became disabled, the long trip there and back, how am I going to get my suitcase in the room, that sort of thing. In the past I have always traveled alone or met up with a tour group where I did not know anyone. I would have preferred to have someone with me, but I was ok with doing it by myself, as long as I got to go. I talked to my soon to be husband about how important travel was to me, and that I needed someone to go with me. He had said we could go anywhere I wanted. I doubt if he remembers that, but I do. The Oaxaca trip was wonderful, but it was three weeks, which was long for him. We had agreed to do a shorter trip the next time, but there was not a next time. He got a cruise to Alaska as a bonus one year and we went to that, but I get motion sick. Cruises never had appeal to me in the past but he had it and I was happy to be going somewhere with him. We spent a couple of days in Washington state (where we were boarding) and we spent a couple of days wandering around looking at the West coast beach, the rainforest, and a cheesy little town called Forks that was all about Twilight. (yes that Twilight) I overdid it and could barely move when we boarded the ship, but I had fun those days in spite of the pain.

Anyway… yeah I’m rambling but that’s ok. I’m writing. It took so very long for me to get to the point where I was going to go. Years. But I didn’t feel like I have much choice. Talking to him, even though it was relatively short, made me question myself all over again and it makes hope flare up again. That’s the thing I can’t seem to kill. Hope. I think because I wanted so very badly for this to work. I wanted so very badly to have what we had when we got married for the rest of our lives. It’s not something I want to give up, even when given every indication that there is no cause for it.


Missing t

T has been on my mind a lot. I miss her badly and wish I could talk to her. I’m also seriously pissed off at her. She was the closest person in the world to me, including family. She was my family as far as that goes, and I would have done absolutely anything to help her. From the time we met I was looking out for her, whether she knew it or not. I have no idea how many times I had to stand up for her when we were teens-20s. When I was still scrappy, I suppose. Any time she needed anything I did it for her. I’m the one she called in the middle of the night when something was bothering her. I’m the one who would drop everything and come over if she needed me to. She always had two best friends, me and the other J, but I’m the one she talked to more, saw more, and who was always there. I was the only one at her first wedding, and I did everything I could to make her second special. That’s not putting down J in any way… she lived further away and had kids to deal with. But it remains that it was me that was always there. So when she said I had never done anything for her, I was stunned. I know she’s parroting some bullshit someone must be feeding her, but she should have given it some fucking thought before she repeated that shit. Besides being a damn good friend, I got her a job when she needed it, a place to stay when she needed it, lent her money when she needed it, brought her things she needed, and on and on…. And for her to forget or to dismiss all that I’ve done for her is just appalling.
I hate what alcohol turned her into. It broke my heart. When she started putting the kids in danger, enough was enough. Driving drunk with the kids in the car, leaving them to fend for themselves, leaving them at sleazy motels while she went chasing after her ex… Just not acceptable. When she decided she was going to try to get Jason back after what he did to R, I could not be a party to that in any way.
Still, I thought eventually we would work it out. I thought she’d sober up and realize how she had been behaving. That’s what other people thought too. I was the fourth person to call about the kids. I hated to do it. I cried for two weeks before I gave in and did it. That was after talking repeatedly about it to various people who encouraged me to do so. I know it was the right thing to do but I still felt bad about it. Still, we had been friends a lifetime. I didn’t think anything could break that.
Then damn if she didn’t move in with my ex, of all people. I know she has a problem being alone and God forbid she actually has to work or something, but that was really fucking low. He let her drink so she stayed, and in doing so, made it clear that she did not think we would reconcile. I was already pissed at her, but she still threw away our friendship for a place to drink.

Then to find out that she somehow thinks her fucked up life is somehow my fault, is just too much. She’s the one that ruined her relationship with her kids when she chose her child’s molester over her child. She’s the one that ruined her relationships with her friends over drink. Then her drunken ranting on facebook about how “I’m evil” and to “give her back her daughter” like Raven was a thing I had stolen. She did apologize for that and her excuse was that she was drunk. But I am sick of being blamed.

I was so angry over this the other day I started to log on just to say “fuck you, Tara, you broke my heart”. I managed to control myself, but I tell you, it took both hands to grab hold of myself. I’m so lonely I could die sometimes, and I miss talking to my friend. So many things remind me of her. The memories of 25+ years are wrapped up with her. When she messaged me recently I laid into her. I was still furious. I am still furious. But underneath that I’m just really hurt and I miss my sister. I keep telling myself that she has shown that her friendship is no longer worth having. She has shown how easily she will turn on someone if it is to her advantage. It makes me wonder if she was always such a shitty person or if it’s just the booze. I want to believe it’s the booze, but I honestly don’t know if there is any of her left in there.
I just wish I could go back in time and stop all of this.

Forgiveness – nsfw

I haven’t written for a few days. I was supposed to write about forgiveness, and I’ve given it some thought, but I still don’t know what to say.

I know that being angry hurts me, not the person/people I’m angry with. Normally I don’t hold onto that sort of thing for long. I’ve never been one to hold a grudge. Either we talk it out or it fades. I don’t even have anger for my father any more.

However, there is an incident, or series of incidents that I haven’t been able to let go and I’m not sure why. It’s been years now, but it still makes me mad when I think of it. I guess part of it was surprise. My aunt has always claimed to be such a religious person and even though I’ve seen and heard that she doesn’t practice what she preaches, I didn’t know she was so malicious. Her daughter has always been a cunt, if you’ll excuse the language. That’s really the only way to describe her. And then there was the other daughter, who I was once friends with. To find that she had made up this story about my husband and I and then lied to the family about what happened during their discussion didn’t really shock me at that point, just added to it. It was the other two that I cannot forgive. I wouldn’t need to forgive them if I knew I’d never see them again, but unfortunately, they are related so I will see them around my grandmother at some point. If they start pretending to my face, I will call them out on it. I will not put up with their lies. I told my uncle the whole story, the only one who bothers talking to me. Everyone else believed the lies my bitch of an aunt and cunt of a cousin were telling. My aunt sent out my response to the cunt without what she wrote to me for reference, to try to make it look as if I attacked her out of the blue. And she never bothered telling anyone that I had apologized, but kept it going while accusing me of not dropping it. If there is a God, she will have a hell of a lot to answer for.

Ah damn it. This isn’t talking about forgiveness, this is just making me angry again. Apparently I just can’t, or I don’t know how. I think it’s because the  lies they came up with were so outrageous, so incredibly far from the truth, that I was stunned. I have never spread my business across the family, and that included my grandmother. I know how they gossip. So apparently they just made up their own. Damn it. I have to stop.

I’m sorry.

Tomorrow I meet with the doc for the 2nd time. I’m not sure if this is going to work out but I’ll give it a shot. I’ve never seen a male Dr before, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to him about the various issues.  I’m still in the getting to know you stage and probably will be for a while.  Last week I gave him the Brief History of Me… and he looked at me like a bug under a microscope.  Also, he expects me to come each week with a topic in mind. He said he has spent entire sessions just looking at his patient. I’m not sure how that’s going to work out either. I don’t think he thinks I have DID… because of the lack of any knowledge of personalities with names and separate egos. That was why I fought the diagnosis for so long, but I don’t know what else would explain my memory lapses. I guess I’ll ask.

There’s a repairman here today and I keep getting distracted with that, and by cats demanding my attention. I think tomorrow I should explain how I feel about animals, and the forest, and how much I miss my woods. Maybe that will help him understand the panic attack I had when Kit went to Ali’s.

The Perseid meteor shower is going on and I’d love to see it. I  think about when I slept in the Egyptian desert and the sky went on forever. The more I looked, the deeper it became until I felt I was falling into the sky. There was no light pollution, just infinite stars above the desert, and I watched falling stars streak across the sky until early morning. I want to do that again. I want to go back to Egypt, but it’s in such a turmoil I fear I’ll never get to. There are so many places I want to see, so much I want to experience, and sometimes I feel like I’m running out of time. I have this yearning inside me and sometimes it grows to such a crescendo I feel like I’ll drown in it.