Monday, November 15, 2010

The Pit of Despair

I love The Princess Bride.  It's a great film and it's the only way I can really start this post with some good humor intact.

The last several days have been met by what seems like an endless stream of emotionally crippling crap.  My anxiety is back with a vengeance and my PTSD has decided to rear its' ugly head again.

I was driving home from the grocery store this evening and for some reason, out of nowhere, I remembered the day the ex called me to pick him up from the hotel he was just having sex with his mistress at.  Of course, I didn't know exactly what happened that evening until much later, but the thought of the fact I actually got put through that sent my anxiety through the roof.  I realized that had I known what he was doing, I would have politely said, "Take a cab," followed by a set of extremely demeaning words.  But, remembering it while driving gave me one hell of a panic attack and I'm just glad I had a shred of control, otherwise I would have plowed into a telephone pole.  It was ugly, and still is...I'm still not feeling right.  Have I ever told y'all how much I hate having anxiety?  It sucks.

Speaking of things that suck, let's go back a step to last night.  It seems that outside of our usual verbal jousting, things have taken a steady turn for the worse with Taz.  It's not even healthy arguing anymore, it's just fighting, which is not productive in the least.  The conversation turned to one where I really felt like I was a convenience again.  Taz had the wisdom to tell me that he's been alone for the last 10 years.  Well no shit, where did he think I was for the last 10 years, Club Med?  UM NO.  I was in a loveless marriage with a man who lived to neglect me, so personally, it was the definite equivalent of living alone.  I don't think Taz really GETS how alone I was.  He doesn't get it and no matter how I try to explain it, it just ends up going south.  Then, let's tack on the knee problems and so forth and it's just miserable.


I'm lucky to have my pal Chance.  If you've not heard me say it before, I'll say it again.  I'm grateful for Chance.  The phone call with Taz ended up in tears.  I told Chance about everything and he clonked me over the head again with, "Why not just go enjoy your freedom?"  As usual, that young man is wiser than his years. I'd like to have girlfriends to go out with, but I just don't have any.  The closest I get is the 18-year-olds I go to school with, which turns into more mommying than it does going out with a set of gal-pals.

This morning when I woke up, I made a conscious decision.  10 years ago I was at a crossroads, and in my naiveté, I thought you only had the option to take one of the two roads you were presented with.  Now, 10 years later, I know better.  When you don't like the paths presented to you, you cut your own.  I like that thought.

But, when you're driving down the road and out of nowhere jumps all sorts of garbage heaped on you by your past, it's like Wesley in the Pit of don't know how you're going to get out of it because it seems like a black hole sucking you down with no way to do anything about it.  I'm convinced when you're going through this crap of marriages/relationships going down the toilet you actually hold out hope to see if the Tidy Bowl man is going to come along and throw you a life preserver as you swirl helplessly in the water.

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