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Gossip

Today I am thankful for time to process heartache.




Never hear what somebody thinks about you, you'll live longer. Hear that they're in pain. Don't hear their analysis. - Marshall Rosenberg


The problem, though, is that when everyone else hears that analysis, it causes problems in the real world. 


That analysis causes me pain. It causes my friends to analyze him. Men who see him write lies about me call me on the telephone and flirt with me. I wonder what he said about my religion. One of these guys is Pagan. I didn't know that. What on earth would compel one of our mutual friends to call just to announce his religion? 


I don't know.


Lies and accusations take a lot of time to sort through. It sucks my creativity away as I spend hours upon hours trying to reframe  and defend against the lies and accusations.  It doesn't matter if I love someone. If they are wasting my time and going out of their way to hurt me to get my attention, I have to walk away for my own sanity.
Especially now because I am in the process of trying to rebuild my life.   


I feel bad but it must be done.


I wish I could stop loving.


I need to stop loving.


I am truly believing that the best course of action is to stay with Michael until he finds another love.   It may be best for the kids.  The more time they have with him, the better.

I do not like being in the mother role.  He isn't taking care of the van I gave him.  I am finding myself waking up at 4:00 a.m. to drive him to work an hour away and come home to take the kids to school.  It is exhausting! 
*****

For the first time in my life, I feel unworthy of love. 


That's okay.


The sick part of feeling unworthy of love is that I have faith that the less prepared I am for love - the more apt I will be to find it.


*****


I want to heal.


I think that is what makes me so darn angry about Steve's post to my Facebook wall.


He wants me to "be done."

I don't know what "be done" means. 


I think that means that he wants me to stop writing about narcissistic style abuse. I can't do that. I have friends enduring stuff worse than I. I have to share. It helps them.


I think it will help me leave the situation at my house, too.


I can't stop.


I can't be done until I understand what went on.....

what is going on.....

and what I am doing to bring it into my life.  


I want to understand why Michael is still here without sex or kissing.


I wonder how to broach that topic. 

I wonder what strategies I need to employ to change my life in a manner that minimizes the hurt that other people experience.  


I need to know why Steve thinks everything I post is about him.


I need to understand why Steve (and men like him) go on the attack when they need something.


I need to understand why the Goddess brought Steve into my life at this point in time.


What is the lesson?


I want to know how I got knocked up while on the pill.


This was probably the last pregnancy I will ever have.

Why did it have to be so.....horrific....sickening....depressing.....and ugly?


I want to process that loss, too.


It was probably due to the radiation. Who in the world has 19 dental x-rays and forgets to ask the dentist for the radiation shield?


I feel very guilty.


I didn't know. 

My skin looked pretty! 

I couldn't eat real food without barfing.

I was late!

I should have known.

I didn't know until I held it. 

That broke my heart.


I am having a hard time smiling.


When I do, my teeth look pretty but that only makes me remember the cost of going to the dentist.
It's a shame it hurts too much to cry.


I spend a lot of time in meditation in front of my altar wondering why....


why are these things happening to me?


Why did this happen to Steve and I?


Why couldn't Steve and I just go to our true loves?


Why did we have to experience this pain?


Why?


******
On the bright side, he'll never know what happened to me.


At least....he was spared the most emotional part of the break-up. 


My friends are spared that knowledge, too. If Steve doesn't know, then he won't gossip about it.


That doesn't mean that I do not need to process it.


Love ya, 



S.

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