Reading about the self-loathing process, I can see clearly that the person who has put me down and diminished me most in my life was my malignant mother. She was especially bad where my relationships were concerned. All the years of her criticism and invalidation made me helpless to the abuse I received from my partners because I could never stand up for my rights.
I learned to turn off feelings of pain and anger, suffering in silence, and became numb and depressive. Even though I was trying really hard to do right by my partners, I still always felt guilty. Because of this, I spent forty years lonely and sick. My mother would side with my boyfriends instead of me, convincing me that I was in the wrong.
I know it was absurd that I felt like that, but I needed to be nice, and patient. She said I was hysterical, unbearable, and many other awful things. I stayed much too long in miserable relationships because I didn't feel that I deserved anything better.
It was during my last relationship that I got glimpse of who my mother really is. My last boyfriend was the worst ever. He was and asshole and truly sick. He was destructive, a big liar who denied everything. He used me in every way possible, and never respected me. He was making plans for a future without me, even though at the very beginning, we had agreed on a clear plan of where our relationship was going.
After only two months together, he hurt me really badly. I was crying and he asked me what was wrong with me. "Nothing happened," he said. I asked him if he was in love with me, and he responded "I don't know if I can fall in love anymore." I was heartbroken! After introducing me to his family and making everything feel so official, now he was an insensitive ass.
My mother's response was "But this is wonderful! I always wished a man would say that to me!" like this was so mature and I was a ridiculous child for falling in love. She said that I had misunderstood the situation that had hurt me, and he was amazing. I wanted out - he didn't love me. My mother convinved me not to. I was confused, so I stayed with him for over a year.
For the first time in five years, I found myself alone, and very sad. I was desparately wishing for a partner, a baby, everything. He played with my feelings. My mother, of course, could not validate my frustration and unhappiness. She said, “Isn’t that wonderful? You have all the time to do the things that you want.” I was horrified. I thought, "Pardon me? To do what? You think I should celebrate being single forever?" How could she say such a thing when I was upset and needing her support?
I have many scars from that relationship. He was a very bad narcissistic. He was evil and abused me emotionally. Yet, here my mother was saying it was entirely my fault. He was withdrawing, he hurt me, made me jealous, criticized me, it was a nightmare. I went to the clinic for a nervous breakdown, and he broke up with me while I was there. Such a coward. The best of all is that my mother told me she believes he was with his ex-girlfriend at the time.
I was horrified with my mother. Who the hell is this person? How sick is this? Pushing me into a fraudulent relationship? She tried to tell me it was all my fault for trying to push someone into falling in love. I was already in love. I could only lose. I told her I was angry with her and didn’t want to speak to her. She was angry and shouted to me.
But by this point, I had learned something at the clinic, and she could not convince me I was to blame.
That was how I started my search to understand how she could be so mean and manipulative to me. She gave me absolutely no support and was completely absent during my time at the clinic. No solidarity at all. I wanted to understand. Now I know why. She's malignant. If I were to have a family, a husband, a life for my own, I would be of no use to her. I am supposed to live alone and come back to her, totally dependent. I am supposed to send her money all my life, to live just to take care of her, to do what she says, to feel what she says. She is a malignant control freak with no empathy at all.
But hey, I have gained some intuition through this. I just need to learn to validate myself. In the beginning, I felt I should get out. I did the same thing with my marriage. I was so unhappy and wanted to get out, but my mother convinced me to stay. I stayed in my relationships till my partners left me. They were horrible and mean and treated me badly, and I let them.
I've had a mental breakdown. I have depression. I am awfully sensitive and fragile. But I hope I can get to the point again where I can tell what is not right for me, and just get out.
Recently, Sunshine and I went to the Dallas Fort Worth metroplex to visit a friend of ours. Normally, when we go visit our friend, we stay at our friend's house. This time, when we texted our friend that we were getting near, he texted back an address and told us to meet him there. We got there, and it was a hotel. See, our friend's house was on the market, staged and ready for an open house early the next morning and he didn't want us to have to feel rushed to leave or anything so he put us up in a hotel.
Now, our friend is one of those "go big or go home" kind of people. Well, maybe "live life out loud" or "live life at high speed" or something would be more like it, but whatever--the point is, our friend believes in living life to the fullest. And because he knows that we live in a tiny house on wheels an RV, he couldn't just get us a hotel room. He had to go and get us a suite, with a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom that on its own was bigger than our whole living room and kitchen and dining area combined. The living room and bedroom each had one entire wall made up of windows overlooking the city to the south, and to a city girl like me, the view was stunning.
Sunshine, our dog Mollie, and our friend took off to do whatever it is they do when they hang out--probably fossil hunting or some other grand adventure. I went shopping, as my ass has grown too big for my pants my pants have shrunken too small for my backside and there are just so many good stores in the DFW metroplex.
I got done shopping (in a surprisingly short amount of time) and returned to the hotel. After taking my purchases out of their bags and packing them in my luggage, I surveyed the living room area of our suite. There was this cute little armchair right in front of the window, but it was facing the wrong way, so I turned it around and plopped my ass down facing that wall of windows, and I watched the world go by from my perch on the eighth floor of this hotel.
There has always been something so soothing to me about watching the world from high up in a building in the middle of a large city. Maybe it's because I can watch the city go by without being affected by the hustle and bustle and mad rush and overwhelming NOISE of it all. Maybe it's because I grew up in a large city and somehow wound up in a swamp and miss the hell out of city life. Maybe it's a little of both with some unknown factors thrown in for good measure.
Whatever the reason, I sat there in that room and watched the world go by out that window and listened to the sound of the air whooshing through the vents of the air-conditioning system and the faint sound of the water in the fountain eight stories below me splashing on the concrete.
I sat there in that silence and watched the world go by and felt such a deep peace.
That may not sound like much out of the ordinary to some of you, but to an addict like me, to sit alone and just watch the world out a window and enjoy the silence--well, that's a miracle.
There were many years where I couldn't be alone. There were many years when I couldn't stand silence. There were many years where I always had somewhere to go and something to do and somebody to be.
I was able to sit there in that chair and watch the world go by and be content with just sitting still. I was happy to know that, unlike all of those people in all of those cars rushing by below me--I had nowhere to be, no pressures, no deadlines, no expectations to meet. I had only to sit and reflect in the silence.
I was able to sit there in the silence, with nothing to distract me from myself, and not want to crawl out of my skin.
If you've read my stories about my addiction, failed marriages, prison time, and all of the other horrors that go along with addiction, then you know what a miracle it is for me to be able to sit in silence and watch the world go by. If you have read my stories, then you know what a miracle it is for me to sit high up in a hotel and watch humanity pass by without worrying that life is passing me by.
So my dose of happy this Monday is being able to enjoy the silence, to be comfortable in my own skin. I hope each and every one of you can find a few moments this week to enjoy some silence, and just be.
My throat is sore from shouting. I am exhausted. I hate my life.
I never wanted children. My ex did, and as he always gets his way, we had a son and then a daughter. I love my children, but I don't love being a parent.
I feel robbed of a life and my freedom. My ex loves getting high more than me or our children so I left him. I don't regret this but I am annoyed as he can now do whatever he wants while I'm stuck here on my own.
I'm constantly dealing with their mess, stopping fights, and thinking of ways I can leave. I'm sick of not being able to do anything or have anything nice because they always destroy it.
I want to enjoy them, I just don't know how.
I'm told this is my job and I should just accept that it's not going to be the way I want, but it's destroying me. I feel guilty for feeling this way, but I've been nothing but a full time mum for seven years, and I don't think I can do much more. I'm selfish. A horrible mother.
Here's something a lot of people don't understand or don't want to understand: you can be in love with two people at the same time. It's not a crime, it's nothing to be ashamed of, it just is.
See, I'm in love with you. I'm also in love with my husband, and I know you're in love with your wife. One of my friends – I tell so few people about this that the ones who know are ones dear to me – said you should be my hall pass, then had to explain that to me. You're not a celebrity, you're not a rock star, you're just you. Talented, funny, and sometimes so serious and awkward that I can't help loving you.
I get the feeling sometimes that you have some sort of feelings for me too. I certainly know at the very least that you care about me. Whether it's a favorite on Twitter, a like on Facebook, or just a passing word that you remember where I live when I don't even remember telling you, you tell me in these little ways that you're keeping up with me and my life. You were the first to say "Happy Birthday" to me this year, even before my family. You asked me how I was doing when you saw that my marriage was on the rocks. Like I said, I know you care. I just don't know how much.
My husband thinks this is hilarious. Hell, he encourages it. He says things like "what if he likes you?" in a tone of voice you usually only hear from one middle-schooler to another. He knows how much I love you and he accepts it. It's one of the reasons I love him so much.
I never want to lose my husband like I would never want you to lose your wife. But I can't stop loving you and I can never, ever tell you how I feel. We're friends and I wouldn't want to lose that, but sometimes when we talk all I can think about is what it would be like to kiss you. When you hug me I want it to go on forever. And when you stand beside me I wonder if anyone would ever think I was your girlfriend.
Sometimes I cry because I have these feelings for you, this need to be with you and hear your voice and see you smile. I want to talk to you, to email or text you just to say hi so we don't break our connection but I'm afraid you'll think I'm overbearing. If I ever held your hand I would probably just burst into tears. It's like a sappy romantic comedy, only one-sided. You're near me but just far enough away that I would never be able to reach you.
You toss around "love you" like it's nothing, not knowing what it means to me. It drives me crazy but I never want it to end. I never want this feeling to end.
I love you.
I'm stuck in a long distance abusive relationship with a man who will most likely kill himself if I leave. I'm all alone on the world's scariest amusement park, sure there are some highs to it. But with every high comes a stomach turning, I-wanna-throw-up fall, sometimes several in a row before another small high. The gates are locked and the key has been thrown away, I'm all alone. There is no way out unless I want to live with the fact that he killed himself because of me. There is no way I can do that, I try so hard to help everyone who wants to or has attempted to kill themselves.
So I'm alone in a sometimes wonderful hell hole. Then again, even in hell, people need a litte bit of water to live and will miss it that much more when they get thirsty again. Not to brag at all, but there are multiple men I can call, text, email, or go visit and tell them that I want to date them. They would treat me well, let me explain when I seem in the wrong. It would be so nice and perfect. But no, I day dream about it while we talk then get snapped back into reality by his harsh words. I want out, I want fucking out of this nightmarish hell. There is no way though, because he will kill himself if I leave.
I don't want to be responsible for that.
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