From our first email(we met online),phone call, and meeting and all of the days that followed, I felt on edge and scared. And that was familiar. Anxiety had been my singular experience with those who “loved” me. I KNEW I would marry him. Not out of love or attraction, but for the shocking familiarity. It felt like home. Nobody else had ever made me feel EXACTLY as I had with my family.
It was immediately clear that not only did I not come first, or even second, I literally did not count. Any attempt by me, to express a need, desire, feeling was met with coldness, if even acknowledged.
Sweet Greg has alllllways actively sought to know what I need. Favorite just tells me what I need– Where my family and the person I married just didn’t consider (and openly resented being asked to recognize) what I needed. Until my reaction to that, inconvenienced them. As far as they were concerned, the only thing I needed– was to be different and take up less space.
The grief of that lived experience of 40+ years seems infinite. I worry that it will forever be my preference– to be disconnected and checked out. That is when I feel the safest and most peaceful–guaranteed freedom from tension and the fear of being not enough or being too much. It does help though knowing with certainty, that I am loved uncondtionally and am needed by my people. But the gravity of my responsibility to honor, be available for, and to return that love is overwhelming. I am tired from overwhelm. And my natural response is to seperate myself entirely.
I would be lonely af without my children, Favorite, and Sweet Greg. And I am incapable of enjoying extended periods of time in close proximity to them, without feeling oversaturated from basic contact, lasting more than like an hour.
Was I born, already short circuited, – how much of this is a result of having been ignored, denied, persecuted by the people in charge of protecting and looking after me? My historical tendency to go barreling toward any relationship which promised more of the same, makes perfect sense.
It is excruciating and humiliating to be non-chosen by your
mother family. The curse continues – AND my older son is forced to manage the agony of being openly non-chosen by his father for his failure to be or act pleased by things which overwhelm him. At least, though, he is possesses the language to name and share– with both me and a professional, how his father alienates, betrays, uses, and triangulates against him, with his brother, and now the 60 year old woman who allures their father with her assurances of what she and her assets can do for him/them. Gross.
Their father had a sit down with them to say, in these words: “This is not just a fling. She can take us places”. Ew! Still looking for that free ride. My older son said to me: “Whatever, I will take myself places–you should try it” hahahahaha. He recognizes the pattern of his father attaching himself(like a barnacle) to any person who may be useful to him- His older sisters, me, my sibling, and now the 60 year old bearded woman who is rarely without a drink in her hand, who shows no regard for my children, only a desire to impress and force herself upon them. No inclination to allow a connection to develop naturally over time. She has been in their faces non stop, from her second date with their dad, which included them. I think they are approaching 3 months, now, so good chance that their representatives may have a slip and shit will get real. And also who tf uses the word “fling” with children or anyone at all. I think the 80s just called and they want their word back.
I am deeply disturbed today and gladly taking their inventories. Perhaps physical activity, fresh air, and some cleaning will help. I have fantasized that the boys’ father might end up with a woman who possessed even a little empathy and awareness outside of her own agenda. This woman, with the blessing of the person to whom I was married, demands sustained engagement with our boys and then enjoys judging my older son’s discomfort (understanding only what she can after 14 seconds of knowing him- 15, awkward, introverted and fifteen!!!), and elects to fan the flames of rage which her new boyfriend has for me, in front on our children. They each and both are a fn situation. I hate it. I am powerless over it. I am childish for many of the things I say here, today. While immature, it is all still true and sucks balls. Randy Dean Ross Long Beach Monroe NCMuch Love,
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