I know it’s bad when I have forsaken my Alice in Chains, Pink Floyd, and Nine Inch Nails for Marilyn Manson. I think I am slowly going mad. The Christians have a saying that God does not give more than you can handle. That’s a nice sentiment but I am Buddhist, and everything that is good in my life and everything that is bad in my life is all my own doing (or undoing, as it appears to be). I am the source of the answer and the problem, and I have no answers, just problems. I can no longer see any light at the end of the tunnel. It has gone out, or the lantern bearer is on break. I feel like I am in the boat crossing the river Styx with Charon at the helm, and he is taking us further and further down the river towards Hades and away from the light.
My soon to be ex-husband is closed up in his little room with the door shut watching his porn, and diving deeper into his fantasy life. I wish I had a fantasy life. I have always been too practical and logical to have much of an active fantasy life. To me, if it wasn’t something tangible I could touch, it didn’t exist (I know that sounds a little like Kant‘s philosophy that as soon as an object is out of sight, does it cease to exist?), if it could not be proven scientifically, I had no use for it. I do not believe is God, so that is out of the question. It would be so nice to just be able to “turn my problems over to God” and let him/her deal with the hows and the whys. But I can’t see or touch God, therefore he/she doesn’t exist in my realm. I wish I could “Let go and let God,” or whatever that bumper sticker says. But, how can one turn one’s problems over to an entity they cannot prove the existence of? That’s too much of a leap of faith for me. It requires trust in something I cannot touch, see or conceive of.
So, I am becoming increasingly stuck in my own mind which is not a good place to be right now. I cannot seem to achieve the mind-heart disconnect that I have been able to successfully complete in the past. Even though he has taken away my sense of myself as attractive and sexy which are very feminine yearnings. I had that sense once, but that part of me is under deep cover right now. I know I should be mad about that, but somehow, I have decided that everything that went wrong with this relationship is my fault. I wasn’t tolerant of his porn addiction (and it is an addiction, at this point), I did not act or do things the way he expected a wife to do. I am NOT going to clean the house in lingerie and high heels as he seems to have come to believe that “real and sexy” women do. Porn has warped his sense of gender roles and sexuality in general. And, yet he claims to know the difference between the reality of marriage and the “fantasy women.” No, he doesn’t. With addiction came the blurring of the line, just like it does with any addiction. However, I felt very disrespected, and said so on more than one occasion. He didn’t listen. Junkies do not listen to people telling them they are sick. They believe their behaviour is within the realm of the normal. I have been an addict. There is nothing normal about it.
I cannot decide how I feel. I am decidedly not manic, nor am I particularly depressed. I am extraordinarily stressed out, and I am sad. I can tell because I am dropping weight like I was actually dieting. But, the truth is I cannot eat. I cannot sleep for more than 4 or 5 hours a night. This is going to drive me mad. Not nuts, I am already there, but completely mad. The kind you may or may not come back from in the same form you had before. There is no going back, anyway. Every experience shapes you for the better, the worse or both. This is a both situation. I have changed for the better in some ways, and for the worse in others. Like my trust factor is shot right now. I entrusted him with my heart and soul, and he broke my heart. There is nothing on this planet that I will likely experience at this point in time that will break my soul. I have already been through that, too, and lived. It took a while to pull the pieces back together, but I did it, and came out stronger.
The only choice is forward. Take some time to heal myself, lick my proverbial wounds, and then build a different life. One in which I am happy, I have a supportive partner, ideally one who is willing to learn about my “illness” or someone who is already familiar with it and knows how to defuse potential situations, one who will think I am the most beautiful woman in the world, and won’t feel the need to turn to porn as a “diversion” (although I do not know about this getting married thing. I may not do that again). It’s going to take a really special man to get me to do that again. But, I am not going to do the rebound thing either. I am perfectly comfortable by myself. After the end of my 9 year relationship with my ex-fiance, I did not really “date” anyone for almost 8 years. I had really good friends that I talked to every day, and usually hung out with every day. I had a life with friends and people who cared about me no matter what.
I had one friend/lover that I told one night after a few beers that I loved him, and all he said was that he had loved me for a long time. He was this biker guy that was the perfect complement to me. We both liked to drink beer and listen to blues bands in dive bars. He was very protective of me. Perhaps, he sensed that something about me was extremely fragile. He didn’t talk much to other people where we worked, but for some reason he talked to me about his life and how the last time he used a neck tie was in 1967 to tie down his bedroll to his bike before he headed off for Mexico. I absolutely fell in love with him, and I think vice versa. Even after I was fired from the job, we still saw each other about 3 or 4 times a month. I truly miss him, and his aura of utter calm with a hint of temper that simmered right beneath the surface. He is one of those people that you will love forever just because of who they are as a person. He wasn’t a good looking guy, he wasn’t a big guy, but as I got to know him as a person, and as such a truly decent person, all that extraneous stuff just went away. He is one of the very few people who just took me for who and what I am. He knew that I had Bipolar disorder and other various issues, but he didn’t care because he loved me with all my flaws and strengths. It was simple to him. I was just Jennifer to him; someone he loved with all his heart, and someone I loved with my all my heart.
He is one of three people I will love forever for who they are, and because they loved me for who I was/am. One remains a very good friend, but we can’t be together for very long because it gets uncomfortable. Too much weird water under the bridge, but I do not doubt that he loves me for me. Another man, I almost married. I will love him forever because he is another person who is truly decent, and someone who loves me even with the elephant in the room. I have no doubt that he loves me either. I do doubt that my husband ever really loved ME. I think he loved me when I was “normal” which is most of the time, but I do not think he was willing to handle my manifestation of Bipolar which can be quite delusional in both manic and depressive phases. I just never “felt” loved by him the same way I could feel the other three loved me. I never just knew that he loved me. He never said it. He claims he demonstrated it through actions not words, and there were times when he would bring me something I really loved. And I appreciate that, but it would have been nice to hear it once and have it meant sincerely. I don’t think he could do that because he didn’t feel it. I think he thought he loved me, but his inability to kick his “habit” knowing it made me feel bad about myself, him and the relationship tells me otherwise. Addicts only love that which they are addicted to, and the medium that can deliver their addiction of choice. I know this to be fact. I have been there in a previous incarnation.
However, I am not sure how this is going to work for the next three months. He locked himself up in his room for most of the day only emerging after I set out to walk to Smith’s to go meet a friend of mine. I am no longer allowed the use of the car without good reason. Last night, we ate together, watched some TV, and then went to bed in our respective areas. Everything seemed fine when I went to bed last night. This morning, it was obvious something was eating him. And, he has ignored me all day. I cannot take this inconsistency. Having Bipolar makes me more susceptible to other people’s ups and downs. I am a “mood sponge.” If this is how it going to be for three months, I do not see how I am going to come out sane. I have my own feelings and mood swings to deal with. This, I think, may be the most trying thing I have ever undergone. Either speak to me or don’t, but don’t be pulling these mood changes on me. I do not know how to handle them. And that is what is going to make me insane. I still think the whole mess is just stupid and could have been resolved with a little effort on both of our parts.