I'm usually not one for putting all of my personal bullshit out on the table. Mainly because once it's out there, it usually comes back to haunt me. That being said, I have a lot of things that I need to get off my chest.
Fair warning, this may sound like a pity party and no one will agree with me but I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!!!!
My life started to spiral downward last year when my stepfather lost his battle with brain cancer. This is the second father figure I've lost. Losing anyone is hard but it always worse when it happens suddenly.
I had an abusive father growing up. I unfortunately inherited his temper. Which for me is triggered by ANY kind of stress. This has cost me dearly. I've hurt a lot of people with my anger. Namely my now ex-wife, Lindsey Kramer.
Back in 2003, I met who I believed to be my soul mate. She was the most amazing, smart, caring person in the world. And back then I was more focused on sex than an actually relationship. So I cheated. But strangely, God kept giving me multiple chances to make amends. So we were off and on for awhile until we eloped in 2007. Things were great til her parents found out a year and a half later. I wanted to tell them sooner but she wanted to keep it a secret because I feel she was too afraid of her parents. Or maybe she was ashamed of me now that I think about it. So her parents shipped her of to Arkansas to get her away from me and my "evilness". When she came back I literally stole her from the airport. So we made it on our own for awhile. I was working full time, we had our own place. We even got a dog.
Then she got sick. Or should I say, she got worse.
She was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Which complicated the already present mild CP and water on the brain.
I wish to this day I could take all her pain away. I wanted to fix her and help feel better but all I did was make things worse.
Last September, She decided to tell me three days after the fact that she tried to kill herself by popping some pain killers. I did what I thought was best and asked her to go into a mental hospital. It turns out that she was bi polar. Great yet another thing to worry about.
A couple months pass and we are struggling to make ends meet. She's not working, I'm on overnights so I hardly ever see her and the roommate we let move in pretty much refused to get a real job. Instead he decides to work angles and volunteer for whatever sports team happened to be playing their season.
Then the fuse on the atomic bomb was lit when I had to take time off of work to have what could have been a cancerous tumor removed.
I had to take off time the week of inventory which didn't please my bosses any and have major surgery on my neck. Which could have killed me by the way.
So I make it through the surgery ok and am set to go home.
Now I only take 55% responsibility for what happens after this and maybe I was out of line but follow me on this.
The day of my surgery she is in the waiting room telling ANYONE who will listen about how sick SHE IS. I'm having my neck sliced open and she's downstairs making it all about herself. And the cherry on top is, I'm in recovery ready to go home. Her mom picked her up to take her to a counselor who says that she needs to go BACK into the mental hospital. And guess what? SHE GOES!!! Now upset is a mild term for how I was feeling but we'll go with it.
So I'm forced to take care of myself after recovering from major surgery. All the while stewing and feeling betrayed and abandoned.
When she finally calls me from the hospital, I have the mother of all blow ups. I'm name calling. Saying she's selfish. Telling her that there are times you have to put your own business aside and take care of the ones you love. Etc.
Afterwards, she brings her parents to our apartment and tells me that, SHOCKER, she wants a divorce because I am" an abusive person and she is afraid to come home."
After she leaves, I lose it and scream and cry to the point of actually LAUGHING. I think I may have had a nervous breakdown. What kills me is that before she left, is that she still loves me and wants to keep in touch. Cliche.
So we talk on Facebook and Words With Friends and things are civil. Until the cops show up one day and slap me with an order of protection stating that I can't have any contact with her period or else I go to jail. Another dagger to the heart.
I move out. Thanks to my grandfather and my mom. I noticed that I must have known it would have ended at some point because all of my belongings fit easily in the back of a Dodge pick-up.
I get settled in with my mom and I'm still not able to cope with what's going on.
Then I get some more bad news. My Grandpa was diagnosed with leukemia. He died a few months later. He was our Godfather. The head of our family. He held us together. But now, we hardly speak to each other. It's not the same. Never will be again.
Around the same time, I get diagnosed with Gout. Just call me Henry VIII. I have trouble walking around some times and it hurts to move but I make it work.
Speaking of which, I developed a kidney stone a few weeks ago which caused me to lose my job. So now I can't get my meds to keep my Gout in check.
So, to sum up, I am now jobless, friendless( except for my dog), and have little to no contact with the outside world except for Facebook Twitter and the news. If anyone actually still calls me thier friend, please let me know so I don't end up doing something stupid like putting a bullet in my head. Thank
No comments:
Post a Comment