Maybe It's For the Best
 

I am starting to think this god-awful mess is for the best.

That, in and of itself, is terrifying to me on some level. Whatever part of me committed completely. Whatever part of me put the relationship, the family, our kids, his kids, him before everything else. Whatever part that is . . . it’s shifting. Like a pre-quake tremor.

And it’s frightening.

I’m letting go. I can feel it. And it feels like I could be losing something I’ll die without.

But it is probably for the best.

Because I’m not going to die. Because I’m not going to fall apart. Because I’m going to come through this feeling stronger in a lot of ways. Because I won’t be getting cussed at. Yelled at. Berated for random, mundane issues.

Because I won’t spend the rest of my partner’s life trying to talk him out of killing himself.

Because I won’t have to feel like I’m about to get in trouble, every second of every day, for something utterly unpredictable.

Because I won’t have to feel like the kids are about to get in trouble, every second of every day, for something utterly unpredictable.

This last year has been horrible. He has been so angry and so resentful and so condescending. I tell myself it is unimaginable that he has come to this, but it’s not really. There have been glimpses of this person along the way throughout our entire relationship. I could never understand it—how someone so loving, so intelligent, so affectionate could become instantaneously uncaring, derisive, denigrating. And then he’d snap back to the wonderful person I was so used to, and I’d let it all slip away, like a nightmare or a misunderstanding.

But it never was a misunderstanding.

It was the very real man. The person beneath the charm. The person with his feet firmly planted in a history of abuse, of hurting others before they hurt you, of surviving/winning no matter what it takes.

I’m tempted to say the man I fell in love with never existed. That he was a mirage, some ethereal silhouette we both projected into our lives.

I’m tempted to blame alcohol. To say booze destroyed my soul mate.

I’m tempted to call him on the phone and scream and scream and scream . . . and then beg him to snap out of it.

This last year, I kept thinking of the Prestige. I hated that movie when I saw it. I wanted to wipe it out of my mind before the credits started rolling. But I’ve been thinking of it for months now, with the image of that woman hanging from the ceiling by a noose. Her body swaying. The rope creaking.

She’d said it was like she was married to two people. Like one day he loved her, would die for her, and the next he felt nothing for her at all.

She had been married to two people.

The tragedy is that I’m not.

I’ve experienced the feeling so clearly, though. The disorientation. The world dropping out from beneath your feet. That hollow feeling in your gut. He loves me (Everything’s okay). He hates me (The world is ending). I’m his dream girl. The worst person he’s ever met. Absolutely amazing. A waste of time and energy. His reason for living. The source of his misery.

I would like to say I loved him defiantly, aggressively, unapologetically.

But I didn’t. I have coiled in on myself, ever so slowly, cringing as apologies and explanations spill from my mouth. I’ve gone to sleep. Into hibernation. Just waiting out this horrendous cold.

I’ve uttered self-conscious “I love you’s” for months, and tried not to notice that he looked away when I said them.

And now I feel that weightlessness is right around the corner, I don’t know what to do with the me that’s been left in his wake.

I know I should be good to me. I know I should take my time. I know I should start the process of rebuilding.

But I’m so hurt I don’t know what else do to with the wreckage I’ve become.

Hello SwiftHeart,

In many ways, your husband sounds a lot like my ex-husband. He was always depressed. I talked him out of killing himself a few times, too. He had an affair, and it broke me into a million pieces.

I understand that hurt--know it all too well, in fact. And I'm so sorry you are having to go through this.

One thing I can tell you is that you will get through this. You can have a happy, joy-filled life again. I hope you remember this, too, because it is most important: You are loveable! Please don't let anything that has happened convince you otherwise.

Swift, I think you're right. Sometimes things like this ARE for the best, because we need the wakeup call.

I think your eyes are open, and I believe you WILL come through this stronger, and happier than you've been in years.

Hugs,

That was a powerful read. I went through a divorce... thank God, no kids. It's like a death. It sounds like you've started the process in your heart. Just wanted you to know that I'm sending you ((((HUGS)))) and it WILL get better one day.

But I’m so hurt I don’t know what else do to with the wreckage I’ve become.

The wreckage you have become??? You sound like the only sane one in this whole mess.

Keep letting go, moving forward, its going to be okay, you already have children to take care of, you don't need this.

In seconding the other comments, let me also say that you are an exceptional writer.

As you recover, you will start to enjoy talents like this, hobbies, and reconnecting with other people. Believe me, the day WILL come when you enjoy life IF you work your program.

Hang in there, and keep coming back!!!

Thank you for sharing - needed to read this today.

Swift, my heart goes out to you and I am so sorry you are in so much pain. I am currently trying to rebuilt myself after leaving my xabf. The person that I had become in the wake of his alcoholism has left me broken and in a million pieces. But I continue to work on me every day and I know I will make it through this, just like I know you will make it through too. I know it seems impossible now but please know that you will come through all of this much stronger.

(((Hugs)))

Wow, so poetic...and I can totally relate...it's like you were writing about my AH...

Realizing that this whole mess might be for the best is a HUGE step. Keep taking care of yourself - you are an amazing person, and being free of that mess is really going to let you shine!

Those four reasons up there are enough.

When I kicked my XAH out all I needed was some peace. Peace from the not knowing what shiz he was going to yell at me and the kids about next. Totally unpredictable.

I love him being gone from our lives. The kids and I love our peaceful home. We are no longer afraid of the man we/ I? had to pretend to respect and love.

It's going to take some time. Time for you to get your head around it and learn to put your kids and yourself first. Time to re-set your flight or fight response - that was really difficult for me, however, about 8 months ago I stopped jumping and freaking out over every unexpected loud noise. But, when you do get settled and feel a new inner strength (it took me a couple of years) good things start to happen.

Thank you for this write...

You are definitely going to come out the other end of this stronger and wiser. And, honestly, it is THE BEST thing you can do for your kids. How lucky that they will never remember what life was like living with this craziness?

We have all found ourselves in some varying amounts of insanity. What I see is you finally making the choices to protect yourself and your family. Some people wait years, or decades, to make the choices you are making.

Get a lawyer, get some support, and make a decision to have a happier future. It will be terribly sad, but I think the deception and emotional carnage of your situation is enough for one lifetime, don't you?

*hugs* I'm sorry again. It must feel like your whole world imploded. It gets better, over time.

That was a very well written post. Unfortunately it mirrored my marriage to my wife. Unpredictable moodiness, verbally abusive and a self proclaimed "party girl". I have no idea why letting go of someone that treated us badly is so hard. It definitely sounds like you've got a good head on your shoulders. One day at a time...

Yep. I recall sobbing at the Deposition -- "what happened to my little buddy?" (one of my nicknames for her).

As far as I can tell, now -- she never was.

Just a dream.

Go dream other dreams, and better.

---------

btw, SwiftHeart -- excellent, excellent writing and descriptions of the condition. so btdt.

The mess you've become.. that part really hit me. I felt that way too.... I remember a therapist telling me, " This disease is like a tornado. It kills everything in its wake." ugh. I believe this is why there is the saying, " One day at a time." That is literally the only way you can undo that mess and slowly unload the baggage you have accumulated from the time under that emotional abuse and tense home life. 1 day at a time.....

Swift, apart from being an amazing writer, you are the only steady sane person in the marriage.
Divorce is hard, and I'm not going to sugar-coat it, but time really does heal. You had no choice - just keep saying that to yourself because it's 100% true.
I've noticed that even in the short time you've been away from him, your sense of perspective and outrage has re-asserted itself. This wasn't possible while you were with him.

Thank you!

When I told my therapist this feeling, she nodded. She explained that I was as much addicted (not in love, like I believed) to my AH, as he was to alcohol. That was a very scary thought. I must say!! I had never realized I was addicted to him. Apparently, I had, still have, a very unhealthy definition of what love actually is. I had terrible role models and despite my claims to never be like my parents, I had become so much like them. In ways I could not see!!

FindingMe....that "something" you are referring to is what is called the Tiger in the book, "The Sabre-toothed Tiger". If you haven't already read it...I would highly suggest that you give it a whirl. I suspect that it will resonate with you quite a bit.

dandylion