Over and over

If you have allowed yourself to be tortured by my ravings, you already know that I have not allowed myself a chance to let go for over 4 years. I constantly whine and cry about the same stuff over and over and over. I would love to say that I have resolved this year to stop, but I haven’t.

It is soul ripping every time I drop my boys home after having them. I not only have to say goodbye, I have to see my home I grew up in that is no longer mine. I home that when my mother gifted it to me I helped build a family in. A life in. Now it’s all someone else’s. Oh I know Patty owns it now, but he is tearing it apart. He is sitting in my living room and sleeping in my bedroom. He has breakfast,  lunch,  and dinner in my kitchen, with my kids and the love of my life. He will live right up until the day he dies with the contentment that only a man with a family around him understands while it’s looking pretty likely I will be long dead on the floor before anyone notices.

All I know is I’ve been a house of cards. I know that I am totally responsible for my own recovery from all of this. I have tired over and over too move on and forward. Like I said house of cards,  I reach a point where I’m good, well ok with it all and then a word, thought, action, or something completely out of my hands happens and it’s back to 52 card pick-up.

I just do not have local support, meaning friends, family, and siblings. No one can truly teach you to ride a bike, but they can help. I’m not saying that no one cares, some do, but I have never heard from anyone about how I am or how I am doing here. I have never had a surprise visit from a friend or family. What I have had are lectures and brow beatings about not handling things how people think I should. I have had them since about 2 hours after Patty told me she wanted a divorce. Although I have found support from online people and a couple old acquaintances, I never received any here. Infact, I have been blamed for the lost of friendship and closeness to them all because I didn’t react how they expected me to. I know that’s very understandable but I have to give an example of how I have been made to feel.

Imagine… You are put in a situation beyond your control. Out of no where a rock falls from the sky on top of your house trapping you. You are in horrible pain and can hardly help yourself. Your cries for help are at first ignored. Then you finally hear an answering voice. ” What did you expect living in a house under the sky?” “You’re alive, so way don’t you just pull yourself free?” So you struggle and struggle, but it’s not helping. “Please, I am trying I just need some help.”  “We’re sorry, but everyone has problems”. So you go back to trying, days, weeks, months past and you slowly get somewhat free.  You never hear anyone ask if you are OK, in fact, they have all walked away from the crushed mess you’re trapped in. “OK, I have managed to get somewhat free, but I am in so much pain still, something is broken”. “Jesus fucking christ!! Get the fuck over it. I mean, we are all sick of seeing the eyesore of a smashed house. This is starting to ruin our view. It always help me, help me.”

The point is, you can do 99% of it, but everyone needs that 1% help, especially from the people you have loved and been there for all of your life.

So there I am. My boys are home and my world is back to quiet, dark, and lonely. There’s no one I can call or will answer to talk about it or even the price of tea in China. Just my thoughts that kick up the breeze next to the house of cards.