So, since this will be limited in scopes and views I’ve decided to be brutal and honest. Therapy for myself with myself. I don’t charge a lot either so that’s cool. Current station in life, Married 19 years in October to a man (and I’m not bashing but speaking MY TRUTH) who may love me but not enough not to cheat (has cheated multiple times) or at least not get caught. Part of this truth is that I also gave up the goods to someone other than my husband (in my defense I was left alone) purely retaliatory and selfish but dammit I wanted him to hurt as I did. Mind you this is all in the past right? The past shapes our future and clearly lives in our present as it reared it’s ugly ass head June of this year. While it may not have been the act of sex, the act of betrayal yet again cuts both ways, coming and going. To boot I have, as is required by the vows we took and clearly broke, stayed in sickness and in health…that sickness part, man that shit was crazy. The health part while two fold is never really questioned. That’s where I have a question though. Right now my MENTAL health is in jeopardy. The people in my head as I call them are screaming in loud rebellious voices, lit torches and masks to hid their identity. Kicking shit over, ready to riot, and it’s coming out of me in waves of anxiety. My friends, anxiety is real. My chest hurts, my heart palpitations are out of control and my sense of nervousness is unreal. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. To top that off I am in a constant battle of go versus stay. Fight (more) versus flee (I got too much shit to pack). Is 19 years married 22 years together walkaway-able? Hell yeah it is. I would get half his retirement, thrift savings, military retirement…HALF EDDIE!!! Then I have to admit, I don’t want to fucking struggle. While I’m not too old to start over cause I’m still fine as hell, Sexy even! I don’t want too! I’m spoiled and selfish. I got a pretty damn great set up. My house, his name on it but it’s mine. I can do what I want to it, all that little shit that makes a difference when you own your own shit ya know. Who wants to have to look for an a apartment or even new house and you have 21 years of shit dragging along with you. Not to mention you just got a new car (by default of car accident) and you really wanna keep it. Seat warmers give me life!!!! Decisions, decisions. What’s a girl to do. Hence, the anxiety, the weight gain, maybe not all of it but some, and the hard reset. What the hell am I supposed to do?
Love ain’t supposed to cause all this extra physical dysfunction. Yet, here I am, here I stand. I refuse to go out without a fight if it comes to that and certainly not going quietly.
The question may have crossed your mind, why are you writing this or why are you telling us this? I’ll tell ya why? Because I am not the only person in this position. We may not know “her” but she is out there and she is in a whole heap of trouble because she is too proud to tell this story. Hell, pride would have my slitting my wrist so that ain’t gone work for this “her”. I’m writing because sometimes you need to expel the poison and talking only scratches the surface. I’m writing because I don’t want to become a functional alcoholic in order to deal with life (although I do like my wine). I’m writing because today I reclaim my life. I did the hard reset on Tuesday with the hair and Weight Watchers. Leave it to me go hard in the paint but I must because at the end of everyday, I am all I got. Now, that’s not a slight on my sisters or family but who are we left alone with when it’s the quiet hours of the night…ourselves and the Lord. I write to forgive myself for feeling like the biggest loser in the marriage game. Third marriage and this one not my fault completely if it don’t last. I write as maybe a guide to what not to do for someone else cause lordy be this behavior should not be repeated – ever!