Moving, flowing, stagnating…decaying…
11 Jul 2010 Leave a Comment
in abuse, broken heart, Dave, Ex's, just messed up, Life, LOVE Tags: abuse, abusive relationships, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, confusion, Dave, DAVE K., destruction, fucked up, karma, Life, Life Lessons, lost spirit, LOVE, ponderings, Questions, relationships, unconditional love
Now what? Will the stench of my battered and beaten soul carry over? Will the people here smell it as easily as the people there seemed to? Will the breakdown of the very fiber of my being, atom by atom, continue here to break down?
Woke up this morning to thoughts of him, resentfully wondering when will the first day in six years that I do not think even once of him? …not remember some cruelty, or worse yet some ancient loving kindness which should by now be so stale and moldy that I’m not at all tempted to revisit a site or feeling so ancient its very authenticity should now be questioned…because it’s validity has been so thoroughly contaminated by age and drenched in poisonous toxins of regular cruelty… When?
…can people smell the decay of a rotting heart, the bloody and beaten spirit from 2,000 miles away from the scene of the crime? And four years after the initial deadly stab? All the countless following merely a swift revival of that heart, just to rip its tenderly mended pieces apart yet again? Does mere redundancy smell of the bitter metallic scent of the initial blood-fest?
“Stalked” his FB page the other day, overwhelmed with curiosity. (Maybe that’s why the thoughts? Haha..who am I kidding here?!) Yes, he has an official (albeit not FB status official yet) new bi-annual flavor. So interesting! Took the man four years after our split to make a commitment for anything beyond a one-night-stand, well other of course than the 2 AM booty call “regular”… And now he’s suddenly a serial committer? WTF?! His booty-call turned engagement split was a mere 7 months ago or so and he’s already on to another “girlfriend”? Is this due to the hardened heart he’s claimed so many times that I caused as he stabbed another knife into my heart, yet another time? Or is it desperation on his part to stay away from me..or desperation to have someone, anyone, something meaningful in his beginning-to-age years? A sudden newly developed fear of being truly alone? Exaggerated quick commitment because his fear of commitment has grown beyond his control?
After crying and whining for over four years that he could not find what we had..nothing even close to the passion, joy, and love we shared, suddenly he’s meeting these types of suitable replacements back-to-back?
What is that even? Other than either just plain good fortune (I mean, WOW!) or mere pathetic desperation stemming from a weariness of chronic one-or-two-night stands with faceless, nameless people full of drunken meaningless redundant sexual escapades?
I shouldn’t even ponder any of this..it certainly matters not a smidgen on any level at this point… However, it’s mystifying to me… What on earth does this even mean? So odd…but hopefully he’s found “the one”. In spite of my resentments that he refuses to leave my heart and mind once and for all (ugh!), I actually do wish him happiness…..well that mixed with a bit of karma too perhaps…hehe… After all, I am still a human being, perhaps barely, but I am…I am…still flawed and human after all!
Goodbye Tomorrow
02 Jul 2010 Leave a Comment
in abuse, Anger!, broken heart, Dave, fears, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, LOVE, moving Tags: abuse, abusive relationships, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, Broken hearts, confusion, Dave, DAVE K., disappontment, dysfunction, fucked up, heartbreak, Life, Life Lessons, LOVE, manipulation, memories, ponderings, Questions, relationships, unconditional love, wishes, WTF
Tomorrow is the day!!! We fly out of here with a one-way ticket….no return, no changing minds, no turning back…. it’s one-way, baby! Scary and exhilarating. I will cry. Good-byes are in the realm of unbearable for me…literally. I often find I’d rather be rude and avoid people than ever say good-bye. I’m not even good at saying good-bye to the people I don’t like! I just detest good-byes! Typically, I avoid them like the plague…
There is no avoiding tomorrow… Which means there will be crying, sobbing, heaving, the embarrassing kind of tears…the “OMG Dave and I broke up” kinda crying probably…ewww!
I returned DK’s clothes I’ve had for a while. I wouldn’t want the next ridiculous accusation to be that I’m a thief. Sadly, that’s not even an absurd or paranoid fear with the way he bashes my character. Crazy to realize that after hitting the best of the best and the worst of the worst, the man has zero feelings for me at all. After all the nights he came running to me, crying and sighing, full of words he couldn’t get out, as well as words he never should have let out. After it all, there is nothing. Empty. Void. Zero. Nada.
I thought of keeping his clothes out of spite even, but realized I just don’t want them and he does, so why not take the high road? It’s not as if keeping a few articles of his favorite clothing would ever compensate for all the cruel damage he’s done anyway…and it would mostly just serve to make me feel petty and small. So, I dropped them at his house when he wasn’t home..nor was the new “bi-annual flavor of the month” there either.
Strangely, I don’t wish him ill. I almost wish I did or could, but I just don’t. I even sometimes have little prayers and hopes that perhaps this is finally “the one” for him..this latest strange car parked at his house down the street from my soon-to-be old house. Perhaps this is the happiness he needed, minus any inconveniences or challenges which I represented to him after all the years and tears? The mean part of me wants to hope he just gets what he’s dished out to me for so long – cruelty. But, my heart would ache to think of him hurting even a moment the way he’s hurt me. I don’t know if that makes me strong or just plain stupid..but I’m leaning toward the “stupid” answer.
I’ll never know how someone could be and do so much good (and horrible) in my life and then just be absolutely nothing. The two just contradict themselves. I feel as though this sets a low-level of importance on anything. As though the most wondrous of experiences and feelings will always be significantly lessened in my mind and heart because maybe someday that very thing will merely be a void of anything, like this whole experience was. If anyone had ever tried to tell me that I would be literally nothing to the man who loved me so much he cried, I would have laughed at the ridiculous thought alone and been certain as I’ve been of nothing in my life, but certain that it all meant something significant.
Nope. It all was merely nothing. Every tear, every effort, every cruelty I allowed hoping it would make things even again, hoping it would open his heart back up, hoping we could at least have a friendship…..all for nothing. It feels as though I’m so dispensable and worthless that not even a shred of emotion, good OR bad, can be mustered up on behalf of it ALL….that just feels “off” to me…impossible actually…and yet it’s totally possible and realistic today.
And I wonder if I’ll ever bother to waste a tear, an emotion, much less an effort on any other person who claims to love me? After all, if it’s possible to just mean nothing as though it never was or happened, then why would one ever waste even a moment on such trivial, useless-ness? Seems pretty silly really…
And I think to myself that either he really IS a sociopath (that’s a hurtful hard thought really) or I am just a crazy person (always a possibility). All I know is that this feels like I’m having to realize that one plus one does not equal two, macaroni does not go well with cheese, and french fries are not commonly eaten with ketchup. Feels as though the whole world is not what I once knew; as though nothing at all is what I’ve ever thought. It’s almost more upside down and confused than the day we broke up. I knew he cared and I at least knew why we split. This though…this makes no sense whatsoever.
Radical acceptance here that the grass is orange and the sky is green. Nothing is was or will be what it seems…. I can only hope that this realization will keep things in perspective for me from here on out and I’m never again tempted to place value (much less such precious value) on such trifling and trivial matters as this has apparently been.
What a lesson!
Why NOT play Kick-the-Carcass?
09 Jun 2010 Leave a Comment
in abuse, Anger!, broken heart, Dave, Death, fears, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, life transformations, Writing Tags: abuse, abusive relationships, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, Dave, DAVE K., destruction, dysfunction, fears, fucked up, heartbreak, hopeless, insanity, lies, Life Lessons, lost spirit, manipulation, sociopaths, wishes
No consecutive hours of sleep for what seems like weeks, although I can easily remember not so long ago when it had been more like months, so I logically know I can pull through this “short stretch”. However, when n the midst of the sleeplessness, it feels as though I’ll pass out, die, or just maybe snap into forgettable pieces. I keep reminding myself that it’s been worse and try to be grateful for the little bits of sleep I do get blessed with.
Stressing the move, finances, the gossip and lies (of course, as usual), THE ex, the children, packing, moving across the entire country from everything I’ve ever known, living out of district for my kids’ school out west, my ex husband, and his motives and choices, and how they’re going to relate and affect our lives out there, so far from the only home we’ve ever known.
With all of this, I’m struck hard with acute awareness of the severe alteration of my heart, my perspective, my very essence… Who I once was is gone, with all that’s happening now and all I am responsible to be and do, with all the fears that are hanging just over my head like a shark’s mouth ready to swallow me whole, I really just want to sit down and bawl myself sick. Grief hangs all around me like buzzards and flies on a carcass. I know, I know… This is nothing new…I’ve been a barely-breathing carcass for years now, my only traceable movement being the slight shakes and involuntary shuffles and slides of a dead body that’s being kicked a few extra times for good measure. Big thanks to Dave and friends for that lovely prompt..without it, the buzzards might literally begin to feast on my mourning flesh, not just the metaphorical feastings of Dave and friends on the leftover remnants of my heart, my soul, my reputation, my freaking character! After all, at this point, the pickings are so slim and meager that I genuinely can’t understand the interest…surely there’s not enough there to satisfy even a starving soul?
Apparently so, as I can’t even plan my pathetic, late-as-hell “escape” without a kick every once in a while for good measure. I’m struggling and fighting this damned sense of victimization which I hate so much it makes me sick even to write of these things any more. Or maybe it’s that burning sense of injustice and flood of unkindness and continued crucification which keeps me from withering up and dying completely. It’s almost cost me a great degree of my voice and I do not know what I could even be after he’s fully taken my voice and my ability to write. It just might be my lingering indignance which is holding the shell of my existence together at all, keeping it from crumbling quietly into dust. Perhaps I should stop fighting this victimized-feeling and embrace it, allow it to strengthen me out of my hopeless feeling of being powerless, beaten, and small? Hmm….
I have comprised a plan of revenge. In my circumstances, I have no way in which to actually carry it through, but it’s a lovely fantasy nonetheless. I imagine that many people love me and know the truth of these past five years…the whole down-n-dirty, humiliating truth and they are so outraged and angry they begin a letter-writing campaign on my behalf – no, on the behalf of all people who have gone through emotional and mental abuse. Upon me leaving my home, he receives hundreds of letters from people who know the truth, faceless people who are not afraid to stand up against this man’s cruel persecution of my spirit. Each day or week he receives lovely pieces of mail from people who know what he has done and refuse to buy into his lies and bullshit, as a regular reminder that he did not just “get away with it”. And he, like me, has no chance, opportunity, or method by which to combat the attack. He would just have to sit in it, regularly reminded of his cruelty, its effects, and his powerlessness! Then he might have to spend some time in paranoia, looking at every stranger who meets his eye and wondering, does he know? Does she? Just as I still worry with every person I meet or pass, “Did he tell them I was crazy? Did he tell that person I’m a psycho? A slut? A lying cheater? Wonder what story that person heard?”
For it seems, just when I’ve let the worries go and have convinced myself anyone who believes his garbage at this point is merely a victim of sorts themselves and is entitled to my sympathy, when I finally get to the “I don’t give a damn what he’s said to anyone”, another lovely twisted story of his finds its way to me…piling on top of the huge pile of garbage he’s dumped on me that I’m already trying to climb out from underneath. And the exhaustion revives itself in me. The sense of powerlessness and damned victimization I hate SO much, gathers al around my soul to begin feasting again.
I sent him a message asking him just to please SHUT UP. Leave me alone. Reminding him he has not a single reason at this point in his game to speak my name even, let alone tarnish it further. He has won by yards and miles already. The damage done is irreversible even now. I’m leaving and his story will always stand in my place of absence; not mine, not the truth, but his sick and twisted deviation of my person. I can’t imagine any greater victory for him? So why continue beating this broken and beaten thing? Does he really still get that much pleasure and self-satisfaction from it…even NOW? Why not just SHUT UP? No, go above and beyond to make everyone always, think the person you’ve victimized is psycho crazy, then you never have to worry about being held accountable for the cruelty you perpetually heaped upon her… After all, she’s just “crazy”. Nothing she says will ever account to anything after you’ve told that to enough people ad nauseum.
Why am I so surprised anyway? Why wouldn’t anyone want to continue kicking and beating the person they’ve already slaughtered? After all, she’s dead already…. It’s not like anyone will ever find out the truth now…or believe it coming from a crazy-psycho dead girl even if they did!
Ohhh it would be Christmas every day to just imagine this letter-campaign of outraged people, addressing the truth to him which he feels he has sufficiently buried beneath his heavily placed offensive-tactic accusations and insults. He could just laugh away a few letters, but if hundreds came to him long after I’m gone, that would have to make him think maybe he wasn’t really fooling everyone after all. His mailbox becoming the screaming, lingering Tell-Tale Heart of an Edgar Allen Poe story! It’s a harmless, but juicy thought in my weak state of stress, fatigue, and hopeless indignation…
(insert evil cackle here)
I just shot cupid (with JLH)!
16 Apr 2010 Leave a Comment
in abuse, Anger!, broken heart, Dave, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, LOVE, moving, respect Tags: broken, broken dreams, Broken hearts, Dave, DAVE K., dysfunction, hateful people, heartbreak, morals, moving, Questions, unanswered questions, unconditional love
Reading JLH’s book, The Day I Shot Cupid, which is an interesting and fairly entertaining book, I came upon this passage:
…because at the end of the day it must be sad to love yourself so little that you’d be willing to become the joke, the cocktail hour topic, or worst of all, the reason someone else will find it difficult to love and trust again.
As I was reading the preamble to the point she was making here, I was on a totally different page as to where she was going with this. I was riding on a whole other train on that ride. When I read along and get to the above quoted statement and I stop my train dead in its tracks. According to DK (yes, in his twisted logic and mouth that can’t stop spewing lies and fantasies of comfortable denial long enough to admit to the weather outside), I (ME!) am, in fact, that girl. And yet, how can that be fact when he is, in fact, that same person for me…that guy? And if I stretch beyond myself and presume that in our own little worlds and our own little lives that we are both correct on this matter….what the hell? I mean, what IS that?
I’m floundering about lately, trying to figure so much…so much love, so much pain, so much twisted truths and blatant lies, so much WTF’s, so much slander, so much hatefully random mean-ness, so much utter selfishness, so much damage, just…well, so much, so much! After the last two absolute denials and random mean text spewing in response to my attempt to find peace, closure, and an amicable place to end this nightmare from hell, I finally just snapped. The first denial of reality(at least the first in awhile, that is), I felt socked in the gut, taken aback, literally a deer in headlights, but then the very next one was just so much more of random senseless garbage that I snapped and lashed out (and lashed out pretty “randomly” if I may say so myself!)…..I atually had a thought where I felt justifiable in thinking that this man has become so inherently cruel and evil-ly twisted that he deserves to die a long, slow, painful death. I have never, EVER, thought such a horrible thing regarding anyone in all my life! The thought itself shook me to my core. I felt overwhelmingly guilty. I searched myself for the saturation of love and gratitude that I typically can find for most any human being on the planet, except perhaps the most heinous of the infamous serial killers… Nope….not there anymore. I believe every last ounce of optimism, blind faith, and agape that once ruled the lush kingdom of my heart and soul, has been stomped and shredded to a microscopic dust of frustration , hurt, and resentment. Beyond what I’ve ever thought was possible. No, you can’t love hate away for some people. No, you cannot be so accepting and caring that a horribly damaged person will heal and become beautiful again. No, you an’t be so unassuming and selfless and take every stab of hurt and bullshit a mean person dishes out and think that this person is one bit more capable of seeing the beauty in the world and in humanity, much less in me.
At this point, the part that is most senseless is thatg I want nothing from him. I don’t ask for him back. I don’t chase him. I don’t try to gain back his love. My desire in this had become nothing except the bleek hope that he just might not speak terribly of me or think the worst of me forever or spread more lies and hatefully untrue insults to my character. I guess that in itself is a bit selfish, as it does still mean I was hoping for something from him and I’m not going to feel badly about that because in my world, those things are basic considerations which should be every moderately decent human being’s right on this planet, and maybe even all the others as well. So, I will not see that basic expectation as truly selfish, but more as me asking to be treated with basic and minimal consideration as a person…..me, asking for the only absolute right that I believe anyone and everyone is truly entitled to merely by their existence as a human being, with all the parts and pieces that make them human.
Is that too much for him because he hates? Does he hate? Or is he as completely apathetic as he poses most of the time lately? Who knows? I certainly never will. I lean toward believing the apathetic part, but then what of the nasty accusation explosion off all that OLD stuff when I requested some closure and expressed my desire to leave it in a good place? Requested and desired at this point, merely so as to (hopefully) not feel as though either of us have wasted the last 7 years on truly and completely ridiculous nonsense.
Who cares? Just more mean-ness and hurt added on top of an already existing avalanche of the unthinkable and often unspeakable crimes against my heart and assaults to my spirit… What damned difference should it make anyway? It will soon be over…like it or not….over…over…OVER…
And at least now, I can safely know there is an end to the pain being inflicted, even if not the damage done. This is the glorious positive in this whole last hoop-la of his bitter, hateful, ugly past 5-6 years! Yay!
Veering and swerving
22 Feb 2010 Leave a Comment
in broken heart, Dave, faith, fears, Friendship, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, life transformations, LOVE Tags: broken, broken dreams, broken heart, compromised, disappontment, disrespect, dysfunction, fucked up, giving up, hopeless, sadness
Everything pointed for a moment toward the possibility of finally overcoming the prison I’ve been in for 5 years, but then my emotions got involved and it all came to an abrupt stop….so fast I feel I might have whiplash. From the screeching painfully sudden STOP, I swerved and fishtailed…trying to get my equilibrium back.
It hasn’t come back. I’ve flailed around for it….sank deeper into a sense of depression and desperation..two unfailingly unattractive qualities and states of mind….and then did a 360…right back where I started ..only I’ve lost the tiny position and place I had prior. So I’ve made everything far far worse by trying to demand respect and acceptance for my emotions and my self as a woman and a human being. It always goes like this. And I don’t know how I first got here…oh I can blame DK sure….but I really don’t know for certain that it’s anyone’s fault but my own…
One fateful night 5 years ago has altered my course permanently and in all areas, with all people? How can that be? Why would that be?
All that has changed from this is that it no longer makes me smile or feel any joy. It feels dark and foreboding, smells of cheap perfume, and continues to compromise my self worth and inhibits my attempts to regain a better sense of such.
I am tired though and my spirit is truly weary from holding out and hoping, praying and believing. Deeply and completely weary…that light of joy I had has been chased off by my very exuberance and acceptance of it. I can ruin anything..no matter how delightful it might be or how many seemingly great qualities of potential it might have…just give me a few weeks..a month, a year….whatever…. I’ll take care of it and see that it’s fully eclipsed. And then writhe around in emotional agony filled to the core with sour regret and puffy confusion..stuffing myself further and further down into the rabbit hole.
I envy people who have passed on from this world. How fantastic it must be to end the fight and struggle completely and be at peace.
The Slut’s conundrum
03 Jan 2010 2 Comments
in Dave, faith, fears, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, life transformations, LOVE, respect Tags: abuse, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, Dave, DAVE K., forgiveness, hopeless, life transformations, LOVE, low self esteem, mutation, pathetic, powerless, self love, self-centeredness, self-respect, slut, unconditional love
Slut.
I’m not sure what this means to me anymore… I once thought that sharing your body intimately with another person should be reserved only for relationships where love was there or at least a potential to love….great admiration, perhaps?
My whole perspective on this has changed in the past 4 years of riding the viciously cruel DK roller coaster. I haven’t been loved by another in four years, but I’ve loved a man and I’ve had sex with him countless times throughout this period. And now I might be somewhat free from the painful chains holding me to him, but I do not know my capacity to love any more. I can’t possibly know if I will ever feel a depth of emotion strong enough for another person in a romantic relationship to label it “love”. I question my capacity to let myself venture there again at all.
It is painful to think of loving him so much and all we missed out on, as well as all the damage that he has done toying with my heart or four years. I still can’t be certain I would agree it is better to have loved and lost..but I can finally say with absolute sincerity that the mutual loving experience of that relationship before it turned into something cruel and ugly, was the most beautiful experience I have ever had. It hurts to think of the beauty of it..because it is gone..but I don’t fully resent it anymore. I can actually feel a tinge of utter gratitude for having experienced a love that most people will never get the opportunity to know or even comprehend… And while I still can’t fathom it will ever not hurt at ALL to have that memory and experience, I can qualify that into a category where I see that in some perspective I was truly very blessed and fortunate to have known it.
And now what? My heart does not (thankfully!) fully reside with DK anymore, but it certainly still is not fully my own either. Irony is that my capacity to love has diminished and grown overly cautious, but my capacity for compassion and forgiveness has exceeded limits I never would have imagined it could. And I have always associated compassion and forgiveness with love…at least the deeply sincere kinds of compassion and forgiveness. How can this be?
And…because of this experience am I now cursed to be what I previously considered a “slut”? If I cannot love…(will not love?) is it acceptable to sexually connect with others under those circumstances? When I KNOW I am in those circumstances? Does this warrant me a life as the stereotypical tramp..the girl everyone uses to satisfy physical desire or fears of self-inadequacy? I cringe at the thought of being used by so many…or by ANY one really and yet who am I to judge? I have allowed DK to use me to the extent that I feel worth little more than that. If I cannot/will not (?) love, am I not for all intents and purposes, using others in my own way as well? No matter how full of compassion and forgiveness my “usings” are…am I any better than anyone else who selfishly uses others for whatever their personal reasons might be.
I have allowed a man to use me to the point that my own self worth has shriveled to nothing… I reside in a place where I can’t even imagine another human being feeling genuine love for me… I am not worthy of that any longer. I am a body with working pieces, a soul full of compassion and forgiveness, and a heart that is closed. Who am I? The slut I never imagined I could be…a monstrous creation formed from a beautiful relationship that went wrong and a love for another that would not subside…which has mutated me into a worthless tramp. “Self righteous”, “teasing”,” save myself for love only” girl has mutated into its opposite…
And I believe that since the more sex without love you have in your life, the less love you have in general…the more the capacity to love shrivels further and further…then I self-create a continuation of the very thing I never wanted to be…
Or I join an Ashram and swear of all desires and thoughts of romantic love forever…? Let agape flow from my heart through my outstanding capacity for compassion and forgiveness for humanity, while resigning myself to a life without personal love or selfish satisfactions.
I am a contradiction by definition of my character and spirit… and instead of resolving those contradictions, I, myself(with extraordinary assistance from DK), have dictated my life to expand my contradicting nature….perhaps making me the most unlovable and least respectable human being who has walked the earth…?
Overly dramatic? Yes, of course! And still I feel I cannot put precise enough conviction and explanation in my words or thoughts regarding the conundrum I and my life have become…..
Absolute aberration
14 Dec 2009 2 Comments
in abuse, Apologies, broken heart, Dave, just messed up, Life, LOVE Tags: abuse, abusive relationships, addiction, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, Dave, DAVE K., dysfunction, insanity, lost spirit, LOVE, ponderings, responsibility, sickness, unconditional love
I experience the full comprehension of the literal definition of a wasted life… It is when you have placed the highest value, importance, and priority on something which was hardly a fleeting thought to another. What a sad waste of a life and tragic assisted suicide of a heart this has been. I realize it will never be a worthwhile thought or experience to another living soul…except perhaps, just perhaps, in the book of “What Not to do in Life”. It could possibly gain notice in that list, but somehow I doubt that even, as any reasonable human being would consider it as a given and not need to dull lesson of the obvious. Even there, the experience could be skimmed through or skipped altogether…. How did my life become defined by this ridiculous aberration? When exactly did it shift to that? And why in the HELL upon this epiphany, would I allow it to continue feeding on the juice of my life? Sucking me dry of all things worthwhile or note-worthy in the slightest? How is it possible or allowed that my experience, hell my existence itself, is one of complete futility? This disgusts me. When (and how?!!??) will that disgust grow strong enough to change it?
As I slowly die,I realize yet again that no other will be held accountable for this murder… And I don’t really think even that matters any more to me. That strong passion for right and wrong, justice and accountability…all falls back onto me. Only I am to blame for allowing this death by slow torturous murder. I couldn’t possibly point a single finger at anyone else because at the end of the day, it is I alone who must take responsibility for the contual madness… No one has held a gun to my head in years. I’ve chosen this..in spite of myself, because of myself… Although it doesn’t feel like a choice was ever placed in my hands…..I logically understand that it’s my finger on the trigger. The rest is just words thrown in my direction, giving me step-by-step instructions albeit between the lines…reminding me that it is my fault alone.
I can’t help but wonder lately if I have ever had such a profoundly negative and immensely detrimental effect on another human being merely through my own selfishness, knowingly or otherwise? I can’t know, except to know factually that if I have, it was sheerly unintentional and unknowing….
I have never played with my food for this long…nor someone’s emotions or quality and quantity of life… I still feel guilt over saying something hateful once to Theresa ten years ago.
How does any one person become so much? It is not rational or logical and certainly not sane or “normal”? And if I have enough wisdom and intellect to see that, then why doesn’t it stop right there?
I was never intended for one-on-one love…it’s all a fluke and an aberration of nature…an absolute train wreck I can’t tear myself away from long enough or far enough to move past…or around..or over…
I pray for forgiveness if I have ever once created this much pain in another living thing for even one moment in time. Ignorance is no excuse…
Different kind of nightmare…
14 Sep 2009 Leave a Comment
in Anger!, broken heart, daughters, Dave, faith, fears, Friendship, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, LOVE, signs Tags: broken, broken heart, Dave, DAVE K., devotion, disappontment, dreams, fears, Friendship, pain, sadness
Truck was in the drive yesterday and curtains opened in middle of the afternoon. It’s been a few months since I saw that… I have to admit, I was a little hopeful that it meant something good. And I felt badly that I felt that way as well… Do I not love him enough to wish him happiness? That is too selfish to be love and it’s not who I want to be on the planet, but it might be the plain and ugly truth… Eww…
Heavy on my mind, I just woke from a dream that they were moving in together. It was a dream where there was so much going on at once within the deream that I can’t recall any more details than the main premise, which was the moving in thing. She had lots of money and I think they were quite happy… It burned inside me so much that it was shameful to acknowledge. And I’m left wondering…dream/nightmare or premonition? Certain that the basis for my dream was the underlying chronic fear that this is going to happen soon. Wishing I could recall more of the sbtle details within it though…but I can’t. Perhaps the details are too painful for me to allow myself the details?
I’m willing to admit how hurtful the concept is, even though it goes directly against my concept of love and is embarrassing to me to acknowledge. Yet, with this situation and thought, I do feel the tiniest release of the bonds chaining me to him . This is part of what I’ve prayed for for so very long. So I should be grateful for the answered prayer, really… and in some awkward way, I actually am. I just hate the sick feeling that’s coming with it!
AW says this is what she told me a year ago that had to happen before he came back for good – for real and of course, I long to believe that’s the case. Simultaneously, I almost hope it’s just over and done (???!?!!) so I might have the chance to move on finally. And what do I love there anymore? I’ve not been with him since early June. This is the second period of time in the past four years that it’s gone over a few weeks wwith him staying away. I get that mild sense of hopeful comfort that this time it’s really over. The same uncomfortable “comfort” I got once before, just before he returned as usual, shocking my world and my delicate balance.
Embarrassing to admit that I can’t truly fathom it’s genuinely over, while I hope that it is AND desperately pray that it’s not…all at the same maddening time!!!
Taking baby steps (for me – leaps) to start over. Spend a lot of time with Greg. Met Eric Friday and liked him okay. Saw JC and wonder if that’s anything at all, although I did not speak to him. All in the name of deperately trying to start over and open myself to the possibility that it realy is finished and done at last.
Angie devastated our lives yet AGAIN. In such an ugly way that we are reeling from it still! The girls are struggling to understand such utter deceit and ugliness from someone they cared for so much. I’m trying to help them through that, while feeling the same way myself AND kicking myself that I let myself believe in something better than that from thet likes of her. She has wrecked our home, thrown filthy lies and senseless deceit all over our hearts, and then threatened and accused me for good measure. Amazing! What a mess. I’m tired of being the hopeful optimist and can’t stand the thought of losing that quality entirely at the same time…leaving me open to the fear that it’s still not the last time I let someone do this to me – to us.
I also feel sorry for her that it must be terribly difficult to live life within a web of lies constantly fearing they’ll be exposed and juggling people and places to keep them all in the air. And in some ways, I wonder if she’s better off that she can do that and avoid the painful truths that hurt? As opposed to the blatant harsh realities of myself that I’m forced to accept?
Realizations
14 Aug 2009 4 Comments
in abuse, Anger!, broken heart, Dave, just messed up, Life, LOVE, Writing Tags: broken, broken dreams, broken heart, Dave, DAVE K., dead, death, lost spirit, misery, unconditional love
Writing is my breath, my oxygen, my life-line. I suddenly realize that I can’t write anymore unless I’m gloriously in love or have a knife stabbing in my gut. The rest of the time, I’m too numb to breathe… I’ve become like a person on the operating table so full of anesthesia that they have to be reminded or forced to breathe.
I no longer have the ability to feel anything less than absolute excess. Am I dead? How did this happen? Is the rest only a formality?
No answers
30 May 2009 1 Comment
in broken heart, Dave, faith, fears, just messed up, Life, Life Lessons, LOVE, mothers, respect, Writing Tags: addiction, broken, broken dreams, broken heart, confusion, Dave, DAVE K., depression, hopeless, ignored prayers, sadness, unanswered questions, unconditional love, unrequited
Today my heart was sinking faster than the sun and I drove past two small children sitting in a big easy chair in their front lawn. REmnants of a yard sale I presume. Their little legs sticking straight out with their tiny feet just dangling past the edge of the cushion… and I remember being little and the worst thing I could imagine was rain for a baseball game, my sister crying over anything, or my mother not loving me. I knew the broken heart of the child. My heart broke every time I wanted to do something more than anything in the world, but was not given permission or the crush I had on the little boy next door who liked my best friend instead. I vividly remember the pain of those things and feeling completely heart broken. And now, I looked at those two little kids, sharing the big comfy chair in their yard and what fun that must have been for them and I wished with all my heart that I could just go back for even a minute’s reprieve from the vast brokenness of growing up, the vulnerabilities you have that come with age, wisdom, and fears you didn’t used to know even existed as a child, dangling your feet over a sift chair and giggling. The security that tomorrow will always be coming, the trust that that’s just the way the world works and the confidence that you never have to think any differently because you’re going to be a child forever….until you grow up, which is so very far away it’s unfathomable. The only deep pain I knew growng up were the moments that my mother’s lack of compassion, understanding, time, attention, or love were slapped in my face too many times to give me the chance to slip into fantasy world where she did love me. Aftyer those times, I would sit in my room and write stories about how much my mother loved me and all the hugs and kisses she gave me because I was special. And in time, I would feel better. I could almost put myseslf into those stories so well that they became true,- in my openly imaginative mind and the deperation of denial.
I don’t have that luxury anymore. And instead of my hopes and wishes that I would grow up to be loved by a husband and family of my own; people who would love me every day, not just when other people were present. The deepest irony of my lot in life is that life has placed me in the very same position I was in as a child. Ensuring that I never feel the safety and comfort of love I can depend on. Promising me nothing except more insecurity that further serves to make me so difficult to love and respect.
As an adult, I know have some tiny bits of understanding as to why I never got a puppy or a kitten and even why I wasn’t allowed to go to the fair, the carnival or the circus. And I even understand a little that my mom just didn’t feel developing friendships was what mattered for children and why she chose to inhibit and prohibit that seemingly natural part of childhood. I understand the beauty of those tiny broken hearted moments which I was fortunate enough to be able to escape with the simple tools of pen and paper and hiding places. I can think of those sadnesses and smile a little because I almost miss them, as horrible as they seemed at the time. I would trade so quickly to be my daughter’s age again. She has a mother who holds her and tries to understand, although sometimes I don’t really because her life is so entirely and drastically different than the childhood I knew. I love when she is confident that even if I’m upset with her for a minute. I see the confidence that she knows unequivally that I love her no matter what. She knows she is wonderful, beaitiful, capable, and loved…no matter what life throws at her. She has the blessing of that strength and conviction and all the confidence that comes with it. The confidence that children should be given to grow within from it.
And I am still a child without security, longing for love and respect and compassion from the one person who insists he will never give that to me again. My worthiness doesn’t matter, my beauty, my abilities, my spirit, the light of my soul…none of it matters because just like my mother he will never choose to love me again, at least not with his heart and maybe not even with his body. I should somehow find the blessing in that and be grateful for even knowing I once had something so beautiful, but I’m apparently a stubborn, hopeless case who just pines and hurts and waits for the pain to kill me and make the life-long suffering of this very affliction cease once and for all.
I wait and pray. I write and wish. I hope and dream. And nothing. It’s all a twisted repeat cycle only furthering my insecurity becvause now I know that he once tried to love me exactly the way I always prayed and hoped for. And he does not now and I don’t have the ability to write it all into a happy ending strong enough that my mind can forget for awhile that I’l grown up with the same broken heart and the very same unfulfilled prayer.
Maybe God’s lesson for me is that love should never have been so important to me;that perhaps some of us are not intended to receive it, but just to be gratefulo for the ability to feel it and give it away to others. I don’t know what God has in mind for me. I only know that it has never been what I’ve dreamed or prayed for and the chances of that ever changing are almost down to zero due to the circumstances life has placed upon me.
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