April 18th

I really should go and re-read my entries. I think I have bitched and moaned about the same thing several different ways. You see, that’s my problem and I make it everyone else’s problem too. I don’t know what I need to do to fix myself. I’m my own worst enemy in all of this. All I know is that all the years with Patty and the kids’ nothing broke me. I had a home to keep me busy. Believe it or not, I loved to clean, cook, and even do laundry. The smile I got from her was all I needed to get over anything. I haven’t seen that smile since the morning of the “end”. At no time afterward has she smiled at me. I bumped into the two of them at a store and received a look like I was a stranger, the same as the ones I have gotten at the last few events for the kids. Y2K and 9 11, the wars that followed. My daughter moving to California and her horrible accident. The death of my parents and Kayla. All of them were traumatic, but her smile and a hug were all I needed to keep going. My “bubble” as I have called it.

I have been nothing but alone with my divorce, covid, and the breaking of the world that seems to be happening. I’m facing possible cancer without no one to be there just to hold my hand. Several holidays with no one. A milestone birthday with almost no greetings. I’m financially wrecked with no solution. And on top of it all, I have Borderline Personality Disorder, something I’m told I have suffered with for years but didn’t take hold until she made my world come crashing down on me. The one person who held me together tossed me away like nothing for money. Oh, I’m sure a case can be made about the “falling out of love” thing, but you would think there would be conversations and tears, especially with 4 young children involved. She would be lying if she told anyone that I was abusive, aloof, uncaring, and lazy. Has she? I can’t say for certain, but people who were once mine and our friends all avoid talking to me.

I agree, it all seems too dramatic, but even without BPD, it still is. I would be lying if I said I haven’t tried my hardest to move on and get over this. I do the exercise, breath, and meditate. I fight the triggers. I take several medications I cannot pronounce. I have drank and drugged to no avail. I see a therapist and psychologist. I’ve talked to ministers and pastors, prayed, and screamed at God. It all, life and me, just gets progressively worse. I said it once before, it’s like herding cats. I get ahold of one thing and several others take off in different directions.

I would like a relationship with someone, but it seems as though women my age are at a point where they could care less about a man’s feelings and expect them to cater to their wants and needs. Men my age, especially the ones like me who wear our hearts on our sleeves, are expected to be financially set and somehow not affected by the past and years they’ve lived. All the while allowing the woman to be independent and “free” from the partnership a relationship should have. To make that more clear, I have met several women my age or slightly older. They chose the assholes they married, but assign blame on any man. They want to be wined and dined, be taken on trips. They expect “old world” treatment like not paying for things and being treated a certain way, but they won’t change for a man and they have “paid” their dues with others and absolutely refuse to change or meet halfway with another.

Are there women out there that are not like this? Yes, but they are married and have almost everything they want. They know what a relationship should be and always tell me that I am handsome and a great man, that is they were single, oh they would be all over me regardless of my financial issues at 51. Then one day, one of these women did find herself single and like the others, told me I wasn’t what they wanted and for all the “pep” talks and “support” she also turned her back on me and hasn’t made any effort to even say hi. Or the ones who have never once in their lives been dumped or heartbroken who have no absolute idea what it’s like and they want to excuse it away like it’s as easy as changing a pair of underwear.

Well, this all has taken a turn and all the advice about “journaling” has made me angry and hurt. Defeated. What’s the point of living a moral and ethical life if, in the end, you have nothing to show for it and all the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears ultimately go to someone else who did nothing but sweet talk your wife into leaving you? Every day I lose just a bit more faith, but that’s a rant for another day.