I didn’t go to work yesterday. I didn’t eat or drink. I lie in one position all day in bed. Sometimes I was awake and sometimes I was asleep.
I cried mostly.
I know I can live without Bennett. While my actions or behaviors seem foolish to many, somewhere deep within me there is a person way to guilty to give up on life. And a good life at that. I would never leave my children
The rest, however, seems less important.
I put everything I had into believing in Bennett and his false-truth. No one had ever cared for me like that. He was everything I dreamed of from a young age, manifested in my middle age. I felt immense relief in meeting him, that I could have that idealized partner for me. I felt validated that dreams do come true. I didn’t realize it until now how much I actually sold my soul over to his lies and my utter hope in our union. Foolish, yes. But there it is.
16 months. The last 5 were horrible. It should have ended in May.
I have started to do some reading. The thing is that I “know” all this stuff, I just don’t put it into action, ever.
I glanced by an article about meeting someone who filled some childhood dream (this is exactly what happened to me) and now I can’t go back and find the term or the article. I’m so mad, I read it when I was sleepy and it seemed very interesting. The basic philosophy was that we all have ideals or successes we try and reach in various areas of our life. My girlfriend said I loved Bennett because I saw in him husband/father combined, which my x wasn’t. She is on to something there. I wish I could find the damn article.
I’ve been dwelling on the things I know I need to address, but seem to go in circles with:
- Contact with him brings a weird form of temporary relief, but it ends up in shame. I don’t understand why I want to feel shame.
- I am trying to understand how he feels and change how he feels – I need to stop caring what he is doing and why. Why do I care so much?
- I have to work past the voice in my head that tells me I need him. It’s not my best voice. Its sad and pathetic and desperate.
- My anxieties and insecurities don’t necessarily reflect what’s really going on or what he’s thinking or feeling.
- Recognize that this comes from someplace in me. It’s not just that this guy is a jerk. I found him and accepted him, even though there were signs that it was bad. I have to look at my own history.
- I had an unrealistically high perceived value and perceived probability of this relationship.
There’s some profound way in which I don’t feel loved here, but it’s very hard to be able to say, “You just don’t give me what I need. Or appreciate me. Or know me.” Or, “It doesn’t feel good for me to be with you.” It takes a long time to accept that how one feels about that is legitimate, and that the implication is that I don’t belong with him. I just can’t seem to accept this as a fact where he already has.
All the months and times I was ready and he wasn’t I was the fool to stick around. Now that he’s got his balls back and doesn’t feel the same he’s ready to go and it’s me who can’t accept the inevitable.
The confusion around being mad at myself, mad at him and feeling lost and pathetic is draining me. Work helps. It’s the only thing that does. But, truth be told, it’s hard to focus. My head is a mess.
This is the only place I turn to let it out. I’ve stopped talking about it to anyone. There is no point. I’m broken. I haven’t learned how to detach from bad situations. I don’t manage adversity well. And as much as I sound like a sore loser, it makes me crazy he lays his head on his pillow in his comfy marital bed with his wife oblivious to any of this.
I was so proud of myself over the course of the past 6.5 years, I had moved through some of the most challenging times of my entire life and was making a way for myself. I thought I could manage his grief because I did it with Bobby, but that was pretty stupid, wasn’t it? No one is better at deluding me than myself.
I fell to sleep with all of this on my mind, I had taken some light sleeping aids but my mind was too tormented. I woke around 4am in a sheer ice cold sweat. I was genuinely scared. I can recall feeling that when my mom died and I would wake up and suddenly remember she was gone, gone for good. It was that exact same sensation. I don’t recall feeling that with Bobby and this scared me wide awake and with a feeling of dread and anxiety.
He’s gone, gone for good. I have to accept that as surely as I have to accept death and taxes.
I considered, for a hot minute, to up my anxiety meds but I can’t afford the dullness they bring to me. I need to be on all the time at work. It’s just too important to lose the edge I have gained. I wish there was a magic pill. The forget Bennett pill.
Lobotomy, more likely.