It was a Sunday afternoon, and He and I were separated again. I’d been living at my parents’ house, right down the street from what used to be my house but is still His. I’d been out running errands and had gone to the gym when I pulled back into my parents’ driveway around 5pm for dinner. When dinner was over, I walked out to my car, opened the door and found this envelope taped to my steering wheel. “The Letter” from my father that changed everything! It was his way of urging me to “do the right thing and go home” via these “Pros and Cons” which were nothing short of narcissistic, emotional abuse, blackmail and toxic parental extortion:
So then maybe I should have named my Diary entry THIS:
APRIL 16, 2009: “Are You Fucking KIDDING Me Right Now … My Life Is A Farce … HAVEN’T YOU HEARD A THING I’VE SAID … My Marriage Is Toxic And I’ve Been Trying To Tell You For Years … All We DO Is Fight … All We HAVE Is Tension … We Are ONLY Roommates And It’s Been That Way From The Start … I Don’t Think We’re In REAL LOVE And I’m Pretty Sure We Never Have Been … We Only Got Married Because You MADE US And I WASN’T EVEN PREGNANT … I’ve Been TRYING To Repair The Damage For Years And Have Literally Begged Him On My Hands And Knees To HELP ME WORK THINGS OUT But … He Doesn’t Want To Leave His Theatre Room … He Won’t TALK To Me … He Is NOT Taking Care Of My Heart OR My Soul … He Has NOT Been Looking Out For Me … We Abuse EACH OTHER Daily … He Won’t Release Me From The Past … He Holds My Mistakes Over My Head … OMG I THINK I ACTUALLY MARRIED YOU! … My Son Is ALSO Being Verbally Abused And EMASCULATED … In That VERY Nice House … I Can’t See My Reflection In A Mirror … I’m Afraid I’m Going To Give My Daughter An Eating Disorder … Oh Yah – I HAVE AN EATING DISORDER … There’s A Dragon AND A Black Spider-Man Suit That Are Both Attempting To Murder Me … All I Do Is Cry … HOW CAN I CONCENTRATE ON GETTING MY LIFE BACK ON TRACK WHEN I LITERALLY NEVER SLEEP … I’ve Only Been Pretending To Be Happy So Everyone ELSE Could Be Happy And NOT Go To THEIR Graves With Unrest … All The Nice Things That I Buy When I Go Shopping In That Very Nice Car With My Credit Card Aren’t Fixing Me AT ALL … I HAVE NEVER BEEN FREE TO DO WHAT I WANT … I’ve Been Praying For A Bus To Run Me Over … It’s Not Just Your DEAR Wife And My Kids Who Fucking Need You … “GOD Forbid Anything Happens To MOM?” … Yah, GOD Forbid Anything Happens To ME! ... Because … MY KIDS ARE WATCHING EVERYTHING AND MY GREATEST FEAR OF ALL IS THAT I’VE ALREADY LOST THEM AND THEY WON’T LIKE ME ANYMORE!“
After reading the letter I drove to His house, because in that moment I desperately needed to see my kids. I’d been standing out front waiting for them because I didn’t want to go back in that house, but the whole time I was standing there I just knew that something was coming. It was under my skin and into my bones. I couldn’t breathe, I could feel my adrenaline dumping, and physically felt myself crumbling inside. Literally. Crumbling. When I looked up and saw my babies at the front door I was done! I finally had the clinical nervous breakdown I’d fighting SO hard not to have for way too many years to count! I’m absolutely certain there were Angels present with me and both my children, and if it is true that “Angels cry” then they had to be crying their fucking eyes out as they witnessed the tragedy that was happening on that driveway. They literally had to peel my son from my body so that I could by taken away. He too was crumbling, and I’d never seen him cry so much or so hard. And Gia? She looked so lost, like a sad little puppy that just wanted to be picked and held. Fuck! WHAT THE HELL HAD I DONE AND HOW DID IT COME TO THIS?
I’d actually gone insane!
By 9pm that night I was on an plane to The Meadows in Wickenburg, Arizona and arrived at the facility at just before midnight. I was SUCH a mental meatloaf that the intake doctor that was on call that night made the decision to very heavily medicate me as soon as I was “processed”. I slept so long and so hard that I wasn’t even assimilated into the general campus population for more than 72 hours. My toxic childhood and the ensuing fallout from my completely self-sabotaged adulthood had won their final round in the circadian that had become my existence and I was both mentally and physically EXHAUSTED. Vanquished. Spent. Broken. DONE.
“Who’s to say we’ll make it through? Starting to believe that what we think is never true. And who’s to say the rhymes beside your bed will keep you warm when everything is getting colder? And I’m just holding on until it’s over. Mayday! Somebody save me now. I’m closing my eyes ’cause once the sun rises it’s out of my hands. It’s out of my hands. Who’s to say this history isn’t only just some winter’s distant memory? You can’t escape this drying ink. The fall of who we are is getting closer and I’m just holding on until it’s over. Mayday! Somebody save me now. I’m cutting all ties from the world outside ’cause it’s over my head. It’s all coming undone and falling apart somehow. I’m closing my eyes ’cause once the sun rises it’s out of my hands. Oh it’s out of my hands. The light pulls me under and I keep on caving in.” – David Cook
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