« April 02, 2005 | Main | April 04, 2005 »

April 03, 2005

"it's terrible to see your own confusion"

Who are you? I'm a middle-aged woman with children, a dog, a cat, a turtle, some fish, and a lizard. And a husband. I don't really consider anything after the word "children" to be mine; the animals belong to the children and the husband belongs to no one.

What about you? You mean what do I do? Like, for a living? Yes. I'm an editor for a small company located in "our nation's capital." And? And I really like my job. Or ... I really like words and it makes me happy to bury myself in them all day. And? And what? Oh. I also work part-time at a little gym in my neighborhood. A few hours a week, the occasional Saturday. I like that, too, because I get to work out for free, and I get to be away from all the words for a while.

So what's your story? That's a funny question, isn't it? Do you mean what is it in my life or about my life that makes me want to write a blog? Yes. Oh. Well. Well... Seven months ago to the day, my husband of 14 or so years told me--well, he didn't really tell me, I told him ... told him ... well, let's just say my life changed. Changed! Let's just say my life blew up. Fractured. Caved in. Went spiraling out of control. Veered off into the unreal. Can we try to avoid hyperbole here? Yeah. Sorry.

Seven months ago my husband of 14 or so years left me to live with somebody else. And although the somebody else wasn't to blame, still ... it was somebody else. I thought I would die. Hey, watch it. No, really. Die, or go crazy. I needed to talk to somebody, so I started therapy, but it wasn't the therapist I needed to talk to. I needed to talk to my husband, who was in absentia by then. He writes a blog and I thought, I could do that; I could write about what's happening to me and talk to him at the same time. He helped me set up this online journal--though I don't think he knew the form it would take--and off I went. And the rest is history. Hardly. Well, my history. I started writing because none of what was happening to me seemed real. If you really want to know, none of it seems real yet. No kidding. I mean, look at you. It's been half a year, for God's sake. As your sister said, "Get with it, girlfriend."

Jesus, give me a break! You first. Anyway, ask me something else.

Whom do you love? No one. Oh, well, I guess I have to say "I love my children," and I probably do--I mean, I do--but I don't feel that love right now. Mostly I feel exasperated and a constant, desperate desire to be left alone. Left alone to...? Left alone to be alone, what do you think? How do I know "to..."? Garbo and I, we both want to be left alone. What about... you know? The husband? What about him? Oh, well ... he leaves me alone. I get all the alone-time I could ever want, believe me. You know what I mean. Yeah. I love him all right. I love him like a junkie loves the needle. Actually I can't figure out if it's love, or the desire to be punished, or codependency, or the Stockholm Syndrome. But whatever it is has hijacked my every waking moment all these months, and before these months.

Meaning? Meaning that somewhere in our time together my world narrowed Irised in. Stop interrupting! ... narrowed until all I could think about was him, and what was happening to him, and what was happening to us, and why. Specifically, how could someone who kept telling me he loved me, that I was his soul mate, that we'd be together forever--how could that person be the same person who acted like he hated me most of the time? It was very confusing. It's terrible to see your own confusion; it's like being two people. Like being a prisoner. You see what your life looks like to the rest of the world and it's jarring, because it's just not real. But the life you are really living is so far removed from what you want that you can't believe that's real, either. So you end up spending most of your energy trying to get your outside world and your inside world to somehow match up. It's hard. No, it's impossible. How does someone who says "I'll never leave you" leave you?

Hello: the divorce rate is pretty much 50%--you think you're the only woman out there this has happened to? Happens to? No. Shit, it's not even the first time it's happened to me! But that's another story in another time.

So why hang around? Why hang on? Why not let it all go? Seems like you'd be celebrating his absence, not flogging yourself over it. What the hell? Yeah, if that's not the $64,000 question I don't know what is. I guess mostly it's the unreality factor. I mean despite everything, it's hard to grasp that he could do to me what he did. How old did you say you were? Well you asked the question--I'm just trying to answer it. Jesus. Okay, you know what it is: I don't believe he doesn't love me. Give me a fucking break. What? What do you want to hear? That's what it is! I don't believe it, in spite of everything, even though I know it. I don't believe he'll never be back even though I know he'll never be back. He doesn't know it--or he pretends not to--but I do. And it's hard to know what you don't want to know.

Yeah. Poor you. So what are you going to do now? Oh, I'm going to be a grown-up about it, I guess. I'm going to do what everybody has been telling me I should do, and hope that it works. Really? Did I tell you that I told him I don't want to, you know, hang out with him for a while? I'm going to take a break. How to save your own life, and all that. Now I don't believe you. Yeah. For a few months, anyway--just until I stop. Stop what? Until I stop. Just ... stop. Stop it. Stop not wanting everything I should want and stop wanting everything I shouldn't. I can't... I can't ... Whatever. So how's it going so far? [chuckles] Well, how do you think it's going? You know me as well as anybody. That badly, huh? The spirit is willing, etc. Only the spirit isn't--the spirit is just as cringy and groveling as ever. I'm afraid I won't be able to do it. I hear you. Well, good luck with that, okay? I'll be thinking about you. Yeah. Thanks.

Posted by JudyLa at 06:00 AM | Comments (0)