Between the Mask and the Man

It's like a multi-headed monster, really, all those bad memories.  I refuse to shove them away in a dark corner somewhere because I know how foolish and damaging that actually is to do.  You can't deal with something if you don't face it, and face it for however long it takes until you beat it.  No matter how weakened you are by the experience(s), you simply can't allow it to control things from the backseat.

For far too long I allowed the happy person I was to be emptied and depleted by someone who only needed the part of me that made them feel like the most important person in the world.  My self-esteem wasn't great, and I even told him so.  It wasn't hidden news and something I spoke of to friends about on more than just a few occasions.  I know how my self-esteem crumbled since childhood, but I was always running to stay one step ahead of completely giving in to the idea that I'm somehow less-than.  It took a long, long time to get to a point where I wasn't completely oblivious to the people I was bringing into my life and why.  I didn't understand until just a few short years ago that I was bringing others into my life to treat me like crap, the way my mom mostly treated me throughout my childhood and beyond.  It was history repeating itself.

No where along the road to becoming the person I would be did I ever consider what was being said to me, done to me was anything other than normal, and that I would continue into adulthood believing that all the sad times, hurtful times, and frightening times were all my fault, every single one of them.  I self-blamed right through childhood and into adulthood.  This became 'normal' for me, for my life, and I spent all of my life seeking those who would continue to support this idea of 'me' that I'd gotten from others and accepted as truth.  Those who didn't treat me terribly I walked away from and early on, because they didn't fit the 'normal' in my life at all.

It wasn't until late 2012 that I began to see the current situation I was in as 'off.'  Somewhere inside, however, I knew things were terribly, terribly wrong, but I couldn't figure out what happened or why it happened.  Didn't I feel better about myself by then?  Hadn't I just gotten out of a relationship that was tearing me apart in that last two of eleven years?  Hadn't I regained my health, returned to health once I picked myself up and realized the best thing for me was to be single again?  Hadn't I gone through enough to right things, only now to find myself right back in the fire again?  I knew the answers to it all, yet I was blinded by love.  I'd fallen in love with someone I thought was the most perfect guy in the world.  Thing I didn't realize right away, and not until it was too late, is that he thought that about himself too...

The mask began to fall less than a year later.  I caught glimpses of behaviors and traits and tactics that I couldn't really put my finger on.  As time passed the gaslighting began, and I began to doubt myself, my opinions about what was happening, how I felt, and I eventually doubted the very person I was until I went on a journey at his bidding to become someone else.  The very effort of becoming someone other than me was taxing in more ways than I can describe, and the damage it did to me was insidious and cumulative.

Bouncing back wasn't an option, as I would find out in therapy.  And I'd gone to therapy because I couldn't figure out why I couldn't let go, why even after the ugly breakup I was bewildered by it all and not letting go.  I've spoken about this in entries on my other blogs, but in short I was told that I was having trouble reconciling who I fell in love with and the person he really was.  They weren't the same, and the guy I needed to say goodbye to simply didn't exist anywhere but in my mind.  I fell for the mask and not the person.

How is it that I didn't know?  That's a topic of conversation that I've embarked on far too many times, and I'm still to this day trying not to go there anymore.  But the reconciliation that brings closure may be one of the hardest things for me to achieve, because the line still blurs between the mask and the man.

The fragility of the situation is clearly seen now, and yet I find myself trying to reconcile it all just the same.  Without guidance I'm left to floundering along trying to compose one image of the two things that will never ever form a consistent or cohesive composite of that person.  It's just not working.

The damage is still there.  I deal with it every single day of my life.  Once again, I'm not going to turn my back on this because leaving it in the bowels of one's mind, and yes... we all have a cesspool of crap that gets dumped into a toxic recycling bin... well, if I left it there I will only be left to deal in the decay of something that was never real to begin with.  I'm not going to do that.

The last time I spoke with Beverly (my therapist) was in 2013.  I knew I wasn't to be in that area much longer and needed to end the sessions and focus on the business at hand, that being the business of preparing for another life somewhere else.  What I was left with was the knowledge that the damage was with me and would be with me forever, that I would simply have to heal around those wounds and hope the strong scars that remain would hold it all in place.  I think it is, but the scars are still quite tender at this point, and only because of the lack of closure.

You will never get closure after leaving a narcissist.  It's simply not going to happen.  Acceptance of this means no surprises down the line when the garbage surfaces, and it will surface again, and reminds you that there is yet still that absence of closure than brings total acceptance and healing.

If you're dealing with this, and if you're feeling lost, bewildered, betrayed, confused and alone... you're not at all alone in that.  We are many, those who've had to find our way back again...

More to come....

For those who've left comments here... THANK YOU!

So it seems comment notifications haven't been working in a VERY long time, so if you've left comments and I didn't reply please know it's because I didn't realize anyone had left any.  Blogger seems to have fixed this.. for now.

I appreciate everyone's feedback, more than I can find words to describe really.  I guess, with the exception of those I know 'in person,' or those who contact me via social networking or email, etc., I often wonder if I'm just shouting or whispering into the wind here.

It was my hope that sharing my own experiences would help others, or make people laugh, or think... well, then it's all well worth it, especially with regards to "This Free Spirit," which was created to help work my way to a healing place post-abuse and hoping to help others along the way know they're not alone.

So again, if you've left comments on any of the entries on any of the blogs and I haven't respond.. I will.  And hopefully Blogger's notification system re comments will continue to work!

Blessings and thanks to all of you...

The Crap I Spew

Well, I told you guys I was going to do this, and I know some of you, if not most of you, usually end up having a preference as to which blog(s) of mine to read.  At least that's what some of you have told me.  The new blog, however, is just an outlet for crazy, stupid, nutty, fun, wacky-whatevers I need or want to share.  Yes, sometimes it's 'need.' ;)

Crap that enters my mind, sometimes unbidden.
Crap I think up that ends up epically cool, or total crap.
Crap I have an opinion about.
Crap I just want to share with you guys for no reason.
Crap I've seen.
Crap I've heard.
Crap I'm confused by.
Crap I'm angered by.
Crap
Crap
Crap
Crap
...and even more Crap.

It's in its fledgling stage, so hang in there as the growing pains begin.

URL:

http://thecrapispew.blogspot.com

Have fun!  Oh, and remember... all PC is out the window there, and don't be surprised if you have multiple WTF moments... eventually, it's gonna happen. ;p

The Crap I Spew

Oh, but you've no idea how many times since I created my first blog that I wanted SOOOOO much to use that title.  And trust me, this is something I've wanted to do since my Myspace days, which began over 10 years ago.  Ha!  But I do still have my sense of humor, even if only the few actually get it.

I'm good with that.

So what about this "Crap I Spew"?  Well, I may very well start yet a new blog and title it just that.  Maybe I just need something that allows me to... wait, okay.  This all sounds very familiar, doesn't it?  Like I need yet another blog.  I mean, isn't FOUR enough? lol  I like keeping things orderly, and maybe that's why I've been comfortable separating the 'goings-on' into categories, split into separate blogs for separate 'blah-blah-blah-ings.' But who the hell cares, right?  Read them.  Don't read them.  I wouldn't know, would I?  I mean, either way, unless someone emails me, calls, texts, or whatever... how the hell would I know?

Okay, so I can feel it in my bones, the crazy side of me needing to be set free so she can run amok, nekkid, in the abyss known as the internet.

The Crap I Spew... coming soon to my blogger account.  HOT-DAMN but I'm going to make it a 'thing' after all these years....

...a girl needs goals.

PART II: Today is not the best day for that

Having set the stage for my life once again I'm faced with difficult decisions, and in the midst of a health crisis of sorts.  Which reminds me, I didn't mention in my last entry that I crashed pretty hard while tapering down the prednisone, called my GI doctor.. who had me step up the dosage back to 30mg/day from my lowest taper.. which was 10mg.  ALL those awful symptoms returned with a vengeance, and other GI issues became much worse.  I couldn't handle it anymore.  So my appointment on the 28th has been moved to Monday, tomorrow, the 10th, and he wants me to be there at 7:15am so I can be the first patient.  There was mention of possibly adding Imuran, the a immunosuppressant.  We'll see what he says when I get there.  But I'll tell you, that first night he told me to up the dosage again.. I did to 25mg (so as not to take too high of a dose at bedtime) and woke feeling better the next morning.  And yesterday and today.. I can really tell the difference.  Doc says that knowing where symptoms begin returning tells him where my maintenance dose will be.

So there's that.

When I felt as if my body were made of lead the other day, as my eyes and face began swelling again, as I felt that hint of health fading rapidly, I realized what trouble I was really in.  I mean, when you're at the whim of whatever ails your body to that degree every move you make becomes a reality check.  Every single decision I make is a reality check.  My body reminds me every single day that I have to make my decisions wisely and with my own best interests in mind.

That's something that's long overdue, btw.

So much still going on with my health, and the unresolved and worsening symptoms will, or should be addressed tomorrow morning at my appointment.  Eventually I will have a handle on this thing, and we're at least finally getting to the bottom of what's wrong.  Armed with that knowledge I can begin to take control of my life again, and in a way that promotes a healthier, happier me.

Today is not the best day for that

Sunday.  End of the week.  The last chance to get anything done.  I totally understand sleeping in, though my body won't allow me to do that.  I understand T wanting to sleep in.  Totally get it.  My only thought in that is: What will he do with the waking time?  We're not exactly in 'normal circumstances' mode right now, as we are still surrounded by boxes and clutter from things that need to be either put away, assembled and put away, or just organized and cleaned out.  I did most of that myself during the first week on Prednisone, and I'm afraid I actually overdid things because, honestly, I didn't know how much energy I would have from one day to the next, and I don't have any help here but for T.  And truly.. he's very little help.

My son, the one who lives closest to me, is till roughly about 4 hours drive away.  Not really close in the great scheme of things.  But he's offered to come here and help.  The trouble I have with that is that he'd have to take off work in order to do that, and have an 8hr round trip drive.  And just to do things that T can actually do himself.  Oh, there are other alternatives, but T won't allow it.  This is also another issue I have with this situation---not being able to make a decision on my own and actually act upon it.  I'm really rather tired of being treated like a child, a slave, and am so very close to just saying... F it all.

I do what I can with what my body and energy will allow.  I push, and I push, and I keep pushing long-past what I know I should really be doing.  It isn't enough, though.  For all that I can do, the remaining tasks are out of my reach at this time.  So who's going to do this?

I offered to look online, call around, and find a "handyman" who can do these relatively simple tasks. I can't even tell you how tired I am of walking around boxes that have been sitting here for nearly a month now.  It doesn't make sense.  It just doesn't make sense.  Except in that I know T for what he is, and he's a guy who could literally care less if the house he lives in falls apart around him.  How do I know this?  Well, for starters, I remember the first time I saw his house, the one he lived in for 10 years.  The disarray, to say the least, was uncomfortable, and it (for all practical purposes) looked like an abandoned house inside as NOTHING was ever cleaned.  I refused to take a shower at his house, because I felt I would be clean if I stayed OUT of those bathrooms/showers.  Dear God, you've no idea how bad it was.

I felt sorry for him at the time, and I even tried cleaning it up myself FOR him.  It was an IMPOSSIBLE task.  I spent hours trying to scrub stuff that simply would not come off.  And I'm telling you, that was just in the bathtub and shower.  And the smell...

He told me that his ex wife was to blame.  He said she made a mess out of everything and wouldn't clean the house, etc., etc.  However, he'd been divorced and living away from her for YEARS.  So what about cleaning all that up after she left???  How about hiring someone to come in and get things right so you don't live in filth?  I bought the story.  Stupid, stupid, stupid me. Why the hell do I insist on trusting people, I've no idea, as history repeats itself in the guys I end up with??

So here I am, 2nd anniversary just yesterday, and I look at the pattern of what is and what is not done in this house, and the last one we lived in, and I see that exact pattern in him.  I KNOW there are guys out there that AREN'T looking for a mother, you know.. someone to clean up after them etc.  Because I've met men who took great pride in what they have, what they own, and they respected their investments, be it home or car or belongings of any kind.  Oh, but there've been a couple I've been with who take everything they have for granted and let it fall to waste... claiming.. they don't take their stuff for granted.  Right.  Proof is in the pudding, sir.

In the midst of this clutter I long for a better life.  How can I not?  I'm not a filthy person, and I despise clutter.  I grew up with a mother who was a hoarder, and I hated that even as a child. Why would I be okay with it as an adult?  T isn't really a hoarder, though there are a few aspects of what he does that hint at the tendency.  Keeping crap that he says he's going to sell one day but never sells anything.  Keeping things that he will never ever use, claiming he might use them one day.  And as it piles up and there's no room for anything... that's where the tendency or pre-disposition shows itself clearly.  The only difference is that he doesn't buy new things and keep them.

I'm about functionality.  Yes, and having lovely surroundings is part of who I am as well, part of being a woman really.  At least most women.  It's that nesting thing.  I like that about me, and I'm not willing to change that at all.  No matter what you have or don't have you can still make things nice, clean, livable, and make it look and feel like home.  If you're living with someone who could care less about that, then you may find yourself struggling on a daily basis to maintain that feeling.  And THAT is where I am right now.

We moved here because I needed peace, serenity, to get out of a racket and noise-filled city.  I didn't dislike our neighbors, except for the ones we knew were selling drugs. They were eventually evicted anyway.  But the noise, and looking out the front window to see anything but inspiring sites.  It was grating on my nerves.  T, however, could live anywhere in any neighborhood and be okay with it.  That's what it looks like when someone doesn't give a shit.  I'm so opposite of that, though, and it's causing a great deal of unrest and turmoil in my life.  And don't even get me started on the anxiety.

What did I discover after the move?  I discovered that it's still insanely difficult to find my peace, and it seems like the only time I actually ever have it is when I'm alone, or when I'm laying in bed at night.  Oh, and I guess I didn't mention we're sleeping in separate rooms because T snores like a freight train and I was getting absolutely NO sleep whatsoever.  I'm sorry, but his not wanting to sleep by himself is lower on the totem pole than my declining health.  I was firmly warned by my GI specialist, my lung doctor, and even my primary care physician... that if I kept sleeping minimally that it would have dire effects on my heart, my lungs, and my overall health.  And now that I know I'm dealing with at least one autoimmune disease, I can't risk the triggers such as physical and emotional stress, especially while on prednisone.

So what does it all mean, then?  Where do I go from here?  Can I even FIX anything wrong here?

PART II of this will address precisely where I am at the moment, choices I have to make, and so on....

PART II: Never Mind. Seriously. Just Never Mind.

First let me say this: I'm not demonizing T.  I do love T.  But you have to understand that his behavior is destructive, not only to the relationship, but to me as well.  I've tried to help him understand what his behavior does, how it affects US, and how it affects me.  I haven't pointed out that it affects him as well, because stating the obvious is never going to get the point across.  He has to come to THAT conclusion himself, to figure out for himself how things affect him, etc.  I can't do that, nor can I speak for him or his feelings.  I've asked, and he's shared very little.  His choice entirely.

So at this point, as mentioned in previous entries in my blogs, I have to now focus on myself, my health, and getting strong and healthy again.  My life depends on it, and I'm not willing to give up quality of life in order to make room for T's ego.

How did I get here, and does it make ME self-centered to make myself the center of my own world right now?

Giving so much that you lose yourself is unhealthy, and it WILL empty you at some point where you have nothing left to sustain yourself.  I've given, given, given, accepted, self-blamed, and a plethora of other unhappy endeavors, thoughts and considerations until I really was left feeling completely empty and unhappy.  My attempts to fulfill T's needs without replenishing myself was the worst possible thing I could have done.  But I chose to do it to make him happy.  Over the past couple of years this went on--my giving, giving in, ignoring my own needs and desires, putting all I am to the side in order to make sure HIS world was right.  Now I'm left of what's left of the person I used to be, and trust me when I say I've been here before... it's unhealthy and destructive.

The dialogue began to change when my health began to decline.  Over the course of many doctor visits, tests of every kind, a few diagnosis and procedures... I realized that the person who was sometimes next to me was not only clueless at what was happening to me or how I felt about it all, but it was a CHOICE he made each and every day.  He would spend so much free time on FaceBook, picking away at his phone and reposting memes and articles and so forth that didn't enrich his life, OR our life together.  I observed this over the past two years and wondered, at first, why he didn't spend that much time learning about what I was going through, the sometimes dangerous and necessary procedures I was having, WHY I was having them, and what it meant.  Eventually, I asked him why.  He really didn't have an answer, and to this day still doesn't have an answer.

I had an idea that I would be going through these life events WITH him.  I believed that maybe he possessed even the smallest curiosity about anything I've been and am going through.  I was wrong.  So wrong.

What was the turning point?  When did I recognize the indifference full-force?  That one's easy.  The day I had the fine needle aspirate for a large thyroid nodule found during an ultrasound of my carotid arteries.  When I was told I needed a biopsy I didn't know that I would be going to that appointment alone.  This wouldn't be the first time he did this...

Transjugular liver biopsy was the reality check: Liver biopsies are extremely risky, and doctors have to seriously weigh the benefits against the risk before deciding on this measure.  In my case, not only was a liver biopsy ordered, but I had to have it done via catheter via the jugular vein in my neck so they could assess portal pressures.  Even the radiologist sat down and explained how "Tricky and complicated" this procedure is, then asked me if I had anyone there with me, or if I wanted to call someone to come to the hospital to be there... and that he would wait for them if so.  That's how risky this procedure is.  Where was T?  He dropped me off at the hospital for the procedure and went to work.

He dropped me off for the procedure and went to work.

As I sat in the critical care area waiting for the radiologist to return I looked around at the other patients there, some of which were waiting for their procedures to be done, or was in recovery mode. ALL of them had family and/or friends with them.  I was the only one there by myself.  Even the nurses kept asking me if I had someone there with me.

When the radiologist returned I told him no one would be there and to just go ahead.  He asked me if I had someone to take me home afterwards, and I told him yes.  One word.  Just 'yes.'  It's all I could say.

I was a little sad as I was taken into the surgical suite where they would do the ultrasound-guided procedure.  It was a painful process because I can't take morphine (allergy).  I felt it all and was awake.  Groggy, but awake.  When it was over they took me to recovery.  I called T and told him I was in recovery, and he said to call him when they released me and to meet me where he would be picking me up.  An aide took me downstairs to wait when the time came.  T didn't even bother coming up to walk with me.

This is the part when things begin to shift, when you see that person for the first time, when you look at them and barely recognize who you're looking at.  You wonder who they are and why you're there with them.  That's what I went through.  I wondered who this guy was who was, for the most part, behaving as if he were just some neighbor or something who gave me a ride that day because I had no other way to get to/from the hospital.  Who the hell IS this person? ... that's what I still ask on nearly an every day basis now.

My life became about me when I realized 'me' is all I had.  AIH, the lung issues (COPD), the worsening heart valve problem, the struggle with pain and other unpleasantness that refuses to resolve and stay resolved, all of it is MY struggle.  My struggle to get well; my struggle to cope, find answers, find strength, to continue to make choices based on what's right for my health and life.  In this I discovered that I couldn't continue to put his needs, wants, demands, etc. ahead of my health any longer.  I did that once before in my life and paid dearly with my health.  I'm not willing to do it again because, this time, the stakes are much higher.

I reserve the right to protect my life now.  T made choices as I gave him everything, as I put my own health second, my happiness last, placed my entire well-being on hold.  He made choices that benefitted him and hurt me in the process.  And he continues to do so.  Yes, I've told him.  No, he's not really responded with anything other than to feel sorry for himself.  He refuses to take a step back and LOOK at what he's done, what he's not done, and how it's changed the way I see him, and how I see US.

Been here, done that before.  I know how this works, and I know how guys like him think.  The more he pities himself, the more he refuses to acknowledge what's happened, the further back progress is pushed.  Now there's no progress.  Things aren't better.  And, frankly, I'm just too damn sick to fix it all myself.  It's been tossed in my lap, this stuff, and I'm not up to carrying the load anymore.

So every time I speak and he says "What?"... every time I repeat myself, only to have him retain very little of what I say, each time I'm sitting right next to him and talk.. and he says "What?" or pretends he heard me but didn't... I distance myself from him even more.  It's about protecting myself now, protecting my health, my life.

I absolutely refuse to allow another guy to suck the life right out of me.

Now when he says 'What?' I have only one reply:  "Never mind.  Seriously.  Just never mind."  T's response?... nothing.

So be it.