Home » A Wasted Life » Sometimes Thinking Is Not Healthy

Sometimes Thinking Is Not Healthy

I just spent a few minutes thinking about how I would describe my future.  I think right now, it is covered with a thick fog and I can only see shadows and outlines of what I perceive to be there.  Maybe there’s nothing out there and what I think I’m seeing is just a mirage.  Maybe my future is going to be a continuation of unrealized hopes and dreams…and betrayal.  Maybe my future is simply continuing to be encased inside walls that are impervious to any kind of demolition.
I think about how lovely it would be to pen a blog about the “love of my life” and the full, rich lives we lived and are still living.
What would it look like?  What color would it be?  Would there be audible laughter in the content?  Could I actually describe the warmth of a touch in a way that it would bring tears to someones’ eyes and joy to their hearts?  Could someone find a line to be so moving that just from my description, it would literally be tangible?  Could I paint a picture with such beautiful words that it could actually be framed?  But…there was no life so there will be no prose.
One of my counselors once asked me to write a story about how I wish my married life had been.  I was never able to do it and I’m not sure I ever could.
My parents’ married life was certainly less than ideal.  Their life was about a mama who hated one of her children and a daddy who couldn’t and wouldn’t choose that child over the rest of the family.
Losers’ parents’ life was about a drunken mama who was superficially idealized by everybody and a daddy who silently and blindly enabled her by refusing to admit that he was married to an alcoholic.
As I have confessed, I was not endowed with an imagination so I couldn’t fabricate a life that would have been my own.  I used to watch made for television movies but I began to find myself gagging over what I considered to be ridiculous gibberish and unbelievably absurd content.  Of course, the operative phrase here is “made for television.”
I still firmly believe that “everything happens for a reason.”
But, what was the fucking reason for me to have foolishly thrown my entire life away on a lying, cheating, disease-giving Loser whose moral turpitude destroyed what should have been a wonderful life?  Was the reason to punish me for past mistakes?
What was the reason that four magnificent, bright, intelligent children have been left with the knowledge that their daddy is “an absolute piece of shit” and their mama is “damaged beyond repair?”  Was the reason to give them ammunition to make their own relationships better?
I had hoped the destruction of our marriage would be the catalyst for a strong bond between Loser and our son.  I think it’s worse now than ever.  I don’t know if my son will hold true to his word but he says he never wants to meet or have anything to do with Losers’ attachment.  I reminded him that Loser had said if any of our children didn’t want to see that attachment, “they wouldn’t see their daddy.”
I honestly don’t think it will bother Loser for one minute if he never sees any of his children again.  Loser DID say in an email to me about our son “that’s it.  We’re through with him.”  I guess, being the entitled person he is, he felt he could speak for both of us.
Loser is retired now and should have time to spend with his son but he would never take any time away from his attachment.  Besides, “the damage has already been done.”  Those were Losers’ words.  That exonerates him from any effort or culpability.
So, what is my future?  Is it a life of bitter disappointment and unbreachable walls?  Is it a life of just giving up because I am so mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted that all I want to do is crawl into a coffin and sleep?
I had always been defined by Loser.  It wasn’t my preference but that’s who I was….Losers’ wife.  I lost my identity a long time ago.  Even my signature became a reduction of myself and was trumped by Losers’ name.  I don’t remember who I used to be and worse, I don’t know who I am.  I don’t even remember who I wanted to be.
What I do remember is when a teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said “alive.”  Well, I’m alive on the outside and fighting death on the inside.
At this point in my life, I am a true Gemini.  One day I will think “it doesn’t matter how sick I am.  It doesn’t matter how damaged I am.”
“It doesn’t matter because deep down, I know if there is an ounce of strength left somewhere, with a little nourishment, it could snowball back into that steel magnolia I used to be.”
On other days, I am so crestfallen it would require all the angels in Heaven just to help me take a breath.

11 thoughts on “Sometimes Thinking Is Not Healthy

  1. I also believe that things happen for a reason. In your case it seems the cluster fuck that was your life led you to the keyboard and a writer was born. Would not buy a book by your bat shit crazy ex out of a sale bin, but would be honored to buy one that you had written. Pretty much thinking that the best thing your son will ever do for himself is to stay away from his sperm donor. Make a quilt for your grandson that tells your story. You survived a war, not just a battle, wear your medals proudly.

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    • Thank you so much. I am astounded by the responses saying just what you did…about writing a book. Wouldn’t it be a kick in the teeth to Loser (who has always wanted to write a book) if I actually did? You mentioned before about having my children read my blog. Only one will. The others could never “betray” their daddy by reading what they would consider “dad bashing” from me. Sad, but true.

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      • Since good ole dad has been bashing their Mother for over thirty years tell your children to kiss your ass. Leave all of the money you make from your book to your son……..feel the scald. Would love to see you on the Today Show talking about your book. Rick Bragg wrote a book about growing up in Alabama….wonderful….your writing reminds me of his. Just think about the fun of having that piece of slime you were married to, along with his bar hopping, soon to be nurses aid, standing in line to get a signed copy of your best seller. Start at “The Beginning” and take it one page at a time. You go girl and please tell me that you busted his balls in the divorce…..PS…Whatcha wanna bet your daughters have read ever word in your blog. Sure hope they read my comments.

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        • Only my youngest daughter is reading my blog. She understands. I wish I knew how to go about “trying to write a book” but I have no idea. Didn’t really “bust his balls” in the divorce, unfortunately. I was a trusting fool in more ways than one.

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      • I stand corrected…..leave all of your money from the book to your daughter. I stand by…..they’re all reading it. Your blog is your book outline…..research agents and send them your outline. Trust me, you’re good. I am a voracious reader and I could not stop reading your blog until the end. OMG… you survived being raised by a sociopath. You survived a sociopathic husband and MIL…..a book is a walk in the park. Do you really want Loser and his User to have the last laugh? Hell no, you’re a 100x better than both of them. If you decide that you don’t want to write a book, that’s fine and that is your choice, but don’t not do it because you think you’re not good enough…….YOU ARE….. Don’t let the asshats in your life define who you are……you may be in a dark hole, but that’s what ladders are for.

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        • “Not being good enough” is one of my major roadblocks. I had never been encouraged to do anything. Wouldn’t you think Loser, with his high education and journalistic prowess…not to mention telling me that I was a really good writer, would have encouraged me to explore the possibilities? I love your ladder reference….mine just seems to be missing all the rungs.

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      • REALLY……You’re going to let a narcissistic, psychotic, alcoholic, egotistical, adulterous abuser, make you think you aren’t good enough…REALLY……. With what you’ve lived through you don’t need the rungs, you’re a survivor.

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        • I have indeed survived…but at what cost? If I can figure out the schematics, I just might try it. There are very few people who know my “life story” and every single one of them have said the same thing….you should write a book. Today…I feel like I could do it. Tomorrow? I may be down in the ditch again, but part of me thinks…”if I could help one person…just one person, recognize when they should get out of a relationship before they get old and are so worn down and damaged they feel like they will never recover, it would be worth it.

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