Break Time

I have the weirdest friends - and yes, I'm also weird enough to be friends with most of the ex-boylets. Former co-worker Papa J was feeling the work stress seep in and out of the blue asked to meet up with him during my free time which, given my irregular work hours, just happened to be in the afternoon. Well, I was also feeling quite stressed and could use the break, so I went.

So after going past our destination twice on the highway (why are the signs so small?!) we finally found our destination, and without preliminaries, kinda went right down to business, albeit with a ton of apologies for a lot of possible unmet expectations. Hahaha. We are, after all, not as young as we used to be.  

But it is kind of weird how very little we disclose yet we totally get the other person. I still do mean it when I said before that I'm not interested in how he lives his life before and after just as he isn't interested in mine. There is a detached concern like one would have with a friend so I guess that's that. 

It was still kind of a pleasant afternoon, I guess, although yeah, lots of unmet expectations. No pressure. It is what it is. It is kind of nice rediscovering some things. Like I can still do multiples. Ha!

Cat's Out of the Bag Part 2

 I suppose my Aunt B and cousins deserve kudos for keeping my situation to themselves that I apparently surprised my other aunt just last weekend when I let it known I've left the house for more than 2 years. 

The potluck was a continuation of our post-Christmas lunch the other week - one of the events I specifically came back to the metro for after a few days at the province (the other one is a working business meeting and catch-up session with my fave collaborator J). Unfortunately, handling too many crystal bracelets took a toll on my energy source I succumbed to a bad case of colds/flu come New Year's Eve. Surprisingly, I didn't mind. I thought I'd feel lonely but I just wanted to sleep and recover from my flu.

Anyway, back to my slightly shocked aunt and other cousin who wasn't aware of the circumstances of my flight from furville. I laid it out simply, not assigning any blame on his case, assured her there were no third parties involved - unless you count parental trauma - and he simply drifted away to wrestle with his demons and emotionally abandoned his wife. 

My Aunt simply nodded and said I am strong enough to weather this storm - and my cousins agreed. Eh? Me? Strong? They said what I did took courage that they didn't have. 

Part of me is flattered. But there is also some part of me who is oh-so-tired or carrying this burden and would really like a bit of a break. Please? Fates?

Cat's Out of the Bag

 Whep, the cat's out of the bag now. My (paternal) aunts know about my situation, as do most of my close cousins. And amazingly, I am not judged at all. I thought I would be embarrassed and ostracized. Instead, I was met with understanding and support. 

We traveled to our hometown last weekend to attend one of our uncle's babang luksa (a kind of memorial), and on the way we caught up with each other. I already confided with one of my cousins months before and I sort of knew she'd tell my aunt (her mom) and her sister, and my aunt would tell her sister (my other aunt) so when my other aunt did not act surprised when we discussed how my life had been lately, I figured most of them knew. 

I haven't really been keeping it a secret - I just didn't want people to discuss and speculate about the situation and make it worse. In any case, perhaps normalizing what I did, which was leave and not tolerate a bad situation, goes a long way in making people understand that neglect and emotional abuse is never okay.

Whatever they think of me, I still think everyone's support is a blessing. I just hope I am worthy of their faith.

How Long Until...?

 I came across this excerpt from Emma Rose Byham from her book Was It Even Abuse?  that describes some of my experience when the H started spiraling into his depression and childhood PTSD rabbit hole. We tend to excuse a lot of behaviors from our partners as one-offs and tolerable because "he's not hitting me". We don't recognize the toxic pattern or constant negative comments, put-downs, explosive rants, and silent treatments because, "of course, if he hit me, I would leave him." 

But what if he doesn't really hit you? What if he's saying, "oh, I just picked her up from a random pile", or "oh, the old ball and chain?" What if he comes home, greets the dog, asks the dog how it was, feed, cuddle, and walk the dog, yet not speak a single word to you? What if he forgets your birthday because he thinks it isn't important enough? What if the silent treatment, when you've done nothing wrong, lasts weeks, or even months? "Oh, he's not hitting me. I don't think it's abuse."

So what is abuse? What sort of action becomes emotional abuse? 

What I do know is that I deserve to be loved, and cherished. I don't deserve to be punished for something I don't even know what.

Winter

 I chanced upon this webtoon one day with a rather weird title (There's a Rat in the House) and decided to check it out (Of course, it helps that it has an 18+ rating (hehehe). But apart from the risque scenes which are normal in most adult romantic relationships, it's a typical boy-meets-girl story, except that this time, it's the girl who rescues the boy one winter night.

Further into the chapters, despite not being able to relate to the girl's motivation and selfishness, I realized what made it resonate with me. It sort of the hubby's story. I was that warmth he clung to that winter. and when the demons of his past became too overwhelming, the warmth left him.

I do feel somewhat guilty, because I should be somewhat responsible for his mental well-being. But even after leaving all the tools and lessons I've taught him over the years, He is stubbornly clinging to old patterns even I no longer recognize. I thought my love and patience would be rewarded by a healed heart but I guess I'm still no match for generational trauma. 

Let's face it Q, in this case, you are not enough.

Cue waterworks.

Next Episode

*trigger warning: suicidal thoughts

_________

I was watching this k-drama series one day and the male lead said something that stuck with me. He was very sick before and undergoing painful treatments. He was asked what helped him go through his ordeal. He answered that while being treated, to pass the time, he would watch dramas. He would get so hooked on a story that he began looking forward to the next episode. 

The next episode. My life is in the middle of no man's land right now, hard to define and with no definite direction. I'm supposed to be smart, and I tried to be sensible in my choices. Well, look where that landed me. Middle-aged, broken, and stuck. 

But it would be unfair to blame anyone for my predicament. I guess it's a win that I left an unbearable situation - not in search of something better, but to protect what we used to have and give space for both parties to heal. Well, gee whiz Q, you're still an effin' mess. One step away from a full-blown depression and stuck with prickly siblings who, on an average day, makes you want to go in the middle of a highway and let a speeding vehicle smash your head to smithereens. (I am a rather vain person so I really don't understand why my dark thoughts latched on this idea. I want to look pretty when I lie on my wake as a corpse, d@mnit!)

In the middle of all this, my sense of responsibility won't let me take a single step out the door to implement this rather detailed, macabre, and messy plan. Plus, I've invested in so many storylines in so many dramas, novels, anime, webtoons, and even sports that I'm motivated to go on to the next day, and the next, in anticipation of watching, reading, or witnessing the next episode or season. 

Life may be hard, but it's still this wonderful tapestry of emotions, thoughts, events, and special moments that I can't wait to witness what's coming next. I still want to look at the rest of my life with optimism. I want to watch the next event, travel to the next destination, discover the next chapter. I want to fall in love again, and be loved and cherished again. Or, if that is too late for me, be filthy rich enough to send an "up yours" to the person who made me this way. 

As my sibling said once in anger, "How dare he?!"

Yup, he's probably not as smart as he thinks he is. 

Next!

Touchstone

I lost my touchstone. 

I have mild anxiety issues. They're mostly manageable, and they're usually work related so in the past, most days I just needed a hug from the hubby and I would be good to go. I playfully referred to him as my touchstone and sometimes just a light touch with him and I would feel all is right in the world. I am recharged and I could face the world again. 

But then, the demons of his past caught up to him, and with massive pressure from work, his normally happy demeanor crumbled. Even my presence and attempts to help did nothing to halt his depression. Two decades of hard work to improve his self-esteem, his emotional quotient down the drain. I couldn't help prevent the crash - I wasn't the one driving. 

The irony is that this once-simp-y partner who did everything to make me stay with him at the beginning became apathetic and uncaring. And I have too much self-worth and self-love to subject myself to that kind of emotional torture. My parents did not raise a matyr. 

So I left two years ago and I'm still waiting for him to come around. Looks like that day isn't coming. In the meantime, he has erased most of me from the house we used to share - most of my knick-knacks and clutter are gone. I guess I should see the writing on the wall.

No choice but to move on. One agonizing step at a time.