Our last anniversary together was extremely unpleasant and seems to be the only memory i have left of any of them. This weekend will be 17 years (separated for 2) and its approach makes me feel sick.
I struggle to read posts on this site, even the lessons though some days I push myself. I feel like im right back there, I get the anxiety, the sick feeling in my gut even though im sure it helps me to some level.
The loneliness is crushing but the thought of moving on is terrifying. What are the odds of hooking up with another BP? Pretty high by the sounds of it. I have children and my own sanity to consider. Im not getting any younger.
There is begging, apologies, demands for marriage counselling, wording up the children, rallying friends and family, texting bible verses, sad faces, forced hugs, tears for all to see. I wish he would just disappear, then there's the guilt that come with that.
I have always found journaling depressing though I attacked my notebook this morning:
The darkness presses in all around me
It's as if it's all I have ever known
Somewhere my heart whispers that it's not
But the rest of me says "No! Stay here, its all we know"
I am so lonely
But how can I be when you are here with me?
I love you and you love me
Isn't that what this is?
So I am told, so I am lead to believe
Is it love when the rules outweigh the tenderness?
Is it love when the blame over shadows the compliments?
When everything beautiful is secretly tethered to a heaviness of fear, obligation or guilt?
Are my feelings so unrealistic?
Is my heart so evil to be manufacturing such hurt?
Try harder. Love more. Anticipate better. Listen longer.
Dream less. Try harder. Love more. TRY HARDER!
The sacred well on the pedestal has run dry
My outside is weathered and scared from use
My inside walls are cracked and bleeding
No amount of urgency can self fill now
Yet your bucket continues to be lowered into the darkness
With every revelation of emptiness, the bucket moves faster, harder colder
The rope frays as my blunt knife franticly hacks through
Strand by strand
Finally the bucket falls and lays broken at the bottom
You can't take from me any more
Silence, darkness, emptiness, fear
All familiar, but different
The light streams in but I cant see it
Am I too far down or too afraid to look?
I've forgotten what it looks like, feels like
The gentle warm touch on my skin
Only the trailing claws that inevitably follow remain etched in my memory
I will lay here in the damp darkness
I will count the stars as I heal
Don't climb yet, you'll brush the scabs
Wait until the time is right, when the scabs become scars
The heart takes time to heal
There's my ray of sunshine, here's to the future