It has been 24 days since I last wrote my happy blog, sitting in a coffeeshop, watching the world go by. Yet I still struggle, everyday. The loving kindness that I am to tend for myself, letting my identity be one that is enough, valid, good. I struggle with feeling worthwhile.
And the power that I give to this other person, seems inextricable some days. I know I should not let him destroy how I feel about myself, even when he has no idea that he is doing it. The mere act of his calling daily now, in his move to claim his right to be the "dad". The one who has not divorced his children, only me. It pulls me into a place of despair, or upheaval. My mind goes blank, and life feels like it stops, for a moment. I can't breathe.
It is hard to describe that in my situation, as it is for so many other women, what this means. No, he never put me in the hospital. Yes, my children need to talk to him, to pull together their own sense of identity, as long as they are safe and happy. It appears to be fine now, now that I am no longer in the picture.
But the memories, and the feelings still come back. PTSD or low self esteem. "get over it". "Its done." "you will meet someone else" Can I explain to you that while I want to be done, move on..those words, HIS words, "yes you seem nice, but underneath you are still just you" were the most damning of all, destroyed my confidence, my happiness. As he looked over his shoulder, sauntering out of our bedroom the last time, he smugly says, "just don't ruin our son, the way you did our marriage". Devastation. The times he grabbed me by the throat were doubtless wrong, easy to understand. But this other thing, his words destroyed a part of who I was. And the thing is, the damage had already been started before, when I was a kid/ and through my relationship with my Dad.
And now, he is that "great guy". Still refusing to do the things one would have hoped (ie pay all his support), to help me continue our children's lives and mine in any semblance of normalcy. But still demanding, his "rights". His woman, I know, thinks he is a prize! His family stands solidly by his side. I have no family like this. I am alone, save for my friends whom I guard with close pride.
For all intense purposes, I look "normal". I am happy some days, sad others. I work at a job, and am successful, strong and sure. Confident even. I am not a toad in appearance, though I could lose a few pounds.. I am not a size 0 but I am not hugely overweight. But I feel different all the time. I'm smart and more educated than most of my peers.
I look different here, being Asian in face and genetics (but not in mind, a born and bred NEW YAWKER, thank you very much) in a predominantly Caucasian town. In fact, I more closely identify with white, middle class, educated Christian Caucasians. Is that weird to say? But it is a mirage, of course. I am Asian (and fine with it), I am a sometimes pissy and upfront New Yorker, or the smart woman with a storyline about some divorce. That is all me.
But what does that mean, really? Am I going to have a happy ending, like everyone seems to say I will? Or will I be alone forever, or worse, with someone who won't be the right fit..someone who might turn out to be even worse than him.
Confessions: I joined an online dating service but did not post my pictures. It creeped me out, and I did not want my kids or work colleagues to find out. But I sent 18 emails to men I thought were interesting, and most responded asking for my picture..which I sent. And then nothing. NOTHING.
Perhaps I am not ready. The rejection was not as bad as I would have expected, perhaps because I am aware of the dog-eat-dog mentality of this site. In truth, there were several men to whom I did not respond because they were in the "no way in Hell" category.
But ultimately, I keep bringing myself back to the same question. Is this all there is left to look forward to? Grossly pathetic, I feel, but it is lonely. I don't want to be with just anyone, but I would like to find a person who is my match, without sending those negative karmic signals to attract a narcissist ever again. I am like the negative parallel universe Carrie Bradshaw; the middle-aged one who never finds her Mr. Big but ends up chain smoking alone in her lousy little stinky apartment.
I know I am worth the happiness, but that niggling thought keeps coming back. Maybe he was right....
No comments:
Post a Comment