It’s not about me this time, mostly. It’s no secret I keep my ear pretty well pinned to the ground these days. I like being informed, versus just ignoring something that caused me pain or discomfort. Shutdown doth not equal closure. I mean, wouldn’t you rather KNOW what the hell is going on? That way, no surprises. Better?
This constitutes my actions in regards to my ex. She is off living her independent life. I’m here in the Swamp making things go, day by day, in a forward direction. I really have no idea if what she’d doing is “working out” the way she thought things would. Friends she put a lot of trust and importance on, flaked, or opted out of her life and it’s drama. Such has been the case lately, as more and more of the so called “friend” circle falls apart. Now, the very schmuck who fucked my wife now wants nothing to do with her. Not surprising, but certainly not a good thing. What you don’t see, is my worry: That she’s put far too much stress on this fragile life revolving around her workplace. Now that some of those relationships fractured, her environment becomes poisoned with stale blood. I’m not sure what’s next for her, but I am concerned. She’s stubborn enough to live on the street just to show everyone that THIS is what she was forced to stoop to, because of how fucked the world is. We all know there’s not much use or truth in that mode of thinking. And she isn’t likely to take personal responsibility for anything that’s happened, regardless of outcome. So why bother?
I don’t have much to add in comparison: I’ve MADE new friends, based on principles of mutual understanding and coinciding interests. I’ve forged new ground, applying for programs, getting help, bettering my mental health support structure… all the while, my ex is drinking, making doctors appointments a low priority, and dismantling all the good work WE DID together to get her healthy. I don’t understand how ANY OF THAT makes her life better than it was before. I KNOW she’s in this ZONE of being independent, and not relying on anyone to make the wheels turn. But how practical is that? We are two sick people trying to get right in the world. It’s a hard enough job to do alone, let alone, with someone of like-minded capabilities there to help. There’s no hope of explaining any of this to her. That she could still be independent the way she wants, AND live the life she had. Or, it used to be possible to consider these things, but now, seems like desperation.
I think, despite all the pain and suffering, I’ve come out of all this feeling stronger, more capable, more loved than before. I saw what unconditional love was all about when my dad held me while the cops put handcuffs on me and hauled me off to the Psychiatric Hospital. He came to me and said “this isn’t you.” Which is right, because it’s more the Ghost then me. Me is good. Ghost is no good. Depressed and insane… not a great combo for the rational thinking.
Moral of the story: don’t stop trying, believing, thriving. Life is not a Journey song, it’s a tiresome opera with long build ups and unsubstantial crescendos. I tend to think I’m on a hard-packed path upon which many depressed people have trod. However, there is still much to be learned, and I need to be USED to the feelings of sorrow and pain that come with this disorder, while not making it any worse than it has to be.