The job a therapist does is remove those by reframing reality.
Many years ago, at the beginning of the marriage I was given a free house. There was a lot near this beach and it was only $98,000. I said, “Can we do this?”
The answer was no.
So many times I had plans towards beauty that we could have achieved together.
Depression results when a person is invalidated over time again and again on every choice.
I’m alone in the house now. He has gone.
I’m not different than other women who are going through a divorce.
I think the final straw was the abandonment after the layoff.
I was trying to build my practice, and he said, “what am I supposed to do?”
He did nothing.
Yesterday, I said, can you take some books you want?
My goal now that the house is going to be sold is that we empty it.
He said, “I’m hot.”
Everything was always about him.
It wasn’t about the two of us.
I can see how I had to accommodate myself. 27 years of accomodation.
On one hand as a therapist I can see and know.
On the other as a woman I can see how devastating this relationship has been to my soul.
Cruel, is the actuality of that.
In emotional abuse the spirit of the other person gets shredded until there is almost nothing left. All these years the tenants came first. All these years he came first. Looking back, I wish I had gotten that lot on my own and moved the house there. I would have been looking at the sunsets for years.
I used to buy things for the house and for him like tools in the early days, also I bought all his clothes and I had to choose all by myself because we never went shopping together, or to the market together. Not really.
He always slept with his back to me.
I see that now as a terrible metaphor.
I’m very sad looking at the walls of the house, but yesterday I managed to square away an area. I know he isn’t going to lift a finger around here. So, what I am doing is looking towards Christmas now. Last year it was so bleak and there was nothing. This year, I am going to be able to have friends. I will show you what I was able to do yesterday.
I have some papers to drop off today.
No matter what happens next, I will never not have Christmas again. Not ever.
I am going to be able to have my friends over once again. I can’t wait.
Being here is looking at 27 years of the slow erosion of my bright happy self into something else. In all of these years I was never able to buy any furniture. There is almost nothing here. So, moving will be easy when that happens. Each day, I am going to photograph something I have done like this on the patio. It helps give me great clarity, about who I am, when I am by myself.
The next thing I am going to do is paint the dining room white. Over the years, I would bring homes cans and cans and cans of fresh paint, hoping that we would do it. Those cans were never opened and they always went out to the garage where they sat, and sat, and sat. After our parents passed I helped him paint the downstairs of their house — I helped him do a remodel so that would be fresh and clean.
What he has left me is rubble.
Each forward step, is a forward step.
I am going to have friends again.