Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Beyond Busted


It's late but I have to write tonight.
The past 48 hours have spun me around and around like those side-show tea-cup rides.
And made me just as nauseous.

Firstly he called from hospital number two where he's been transferred. He's out of danger, walking and talking like a real person. Sort of . His speech was slurred a bit- he was still very much under the influence of the sedatives that induced his coma-like state.

Towards the end of the call he says "I love you".
I said, "you do?' If I could master the raising of one eyebrow I would have.
After that his speech was garbled and I realised he was crying.
Could this be remorse? The return of insight?
How do I feel about that. I feel sad for him, but worried what I'll do if he really has had one of those near-death epiphanies and realised what he's lost. What if he wants to work to get it back?

So another sleepless night. More confusion but mostly stress because I want to take Lilly on a road trip next week and I've just listed his apartment on the web to rent it as a holiday let. It's still full of His stuff.
I mentioned this idea, and being stoned he agreed it was a great idea even suggested Air BnB.
He's so much more agreeable when he's heavily sedated: such a pleasant change from his norm.

So today I acheived a lot. I spruced up my latest curb-side find; an awsome and huge armchair, with two new red cushions (adding much needed seating for the aparment). And as I told him I would, I packed all his stuff into the storage cage downstairs.

But when I brought up the large suitcase to pack his clothes in, it contained a duffel bag that was absent when I put the case in storage. I thought, good I'll put his shoes in this one.  But ther was a big file inside.  Honestly this man has more manila files than Carrie Bradshaw had shoes. I'm about to try to squeeze it in a bag with the other manila work files but there's a birthday card hanging out of it.

OK. Once upon another cheating bastard, I got wind of the deal with a badly hidden greeting card, so I open it.
There are lots of my darlings, and I love you so very (yes underlined) muches, lots of xxxxxes. There is also mention of a special present that Angela hopes fits.  I remember our last session with the couples councilor where I noticed he's wearing a white gold ring on his wedding finger but it's not 'our' wedding ring.

Oh my God - He's engaged?

So - all bets are off.
The gloves are off too as I open the phone-book thick file. There I find lovingly cut out and pasted together are love-emails between the two of them. Hundreds of them. Dating back to March.
he's even made a cover "Our story, by Angela and [Him]." 

I learn that he met her in a bar in the US. No wonder, after his bout of crying and apparent remorse before he left, he returned cold and detached.

So they are in love.
He tells her he's waited 42 years to find an woman like her.
He tells her she's so sweet and generous and kind, he's never met anyone like her?
(What am I, chopped liver?)
She tells him she wants to leave her husband "it will kill him but-dot dot dot." And how might it affect her her children?
They talk about passion, sex, their nights together, it's like a bad episode of The Bachelor.
In places it gets really icky.
He gets on his soap-box and craps on about honesty. Like he'd know about that.
They talk about marriage spending the rest of their lives together. He says he "will wait for her no matter how long.."
The stuff he tells her about me is hilarious. The way he spins our story.  About me being a kind of re-bound relationship is laughable. Who ever heard about a rebound relationship that lasted fourteen years?
But Angela you are the real thing!

I think of the sex stained sheets and the girl half his age that slept over very recently.What about young Katy? I say out loud.
I swear to God, if hypocrisy becomes an Olympic sport, he will do his country proud.
As the shock wears off, I start to giggle.
I call a friend and she tells me to scan the lot. I'm thinking this will take a week.
She drives over as fast as she can and I'm chuckling.

Later I have my sister on the phone, we read through it together with a glass of wine each.
We alternate between cacking ourselves and elaborate pretend vomits.

It's gets boring and cliche, like reading Mills and Boon, so I skip ahead.
Hello!  She's asking about his cocaine use?
Excuse me? Mister Anti-drugs-never-tried-them-don't-need-to?
He responds that he's used it 'no more than half a dozen times in his life'; he tells her its an occasional thing - it gives him a buzz.
News to me, but with his propensity for lying through his teeth these days, I think it's fair to assume that's a huge understatement.

That explains even more. I worked with coked-up Investment Bankers for six years and I saw what it did to them. It ages people faster than anything else.

I've been wondering for a while why my former beloved, at 42, in six months suddenly looks like he's in his mid to late 50's. It also explains the late night and early morning cash withdrawals of $600 or more.

My sister tells me she suspects this started before his being sectioned. She says cocaine with the anti-depressants may have actually caused his psychotic break.

So many pieces are falling into place in this sordid story.
I actually felt sorry for him when he cried and said he loved me.

But now, with this massive reality check in hand, I need to switch off the empathy and focus on untangling (and distancing) myself and Lilly from this mess.

I wonder why I'm not sad. Why do I find this so amusingly entertaining? I'm actually relieved and not sure why.

Where did that 'shrug' come from?

Maybe it's being back having sessions with Pollyanna.  :0)

Thanks Pollyanna xx





5 comments:

  1. Good on you for giving yourself permission to start to move forward and away from this chaotic black hole of a person.

    Honestly the shrug could be coming from a lot of places. A few of the more obvious are

    It could just be shock and the everything emotion might hit you later.. i.e. you might have gone into subconscious gotta laugh or you will cry (and you're not sure that if you start the crying you will ever stop mode.)

    Another option is that he has simply crossed what I call your point of no return (or deal breaker)each side of a relationship has them although they are often subconscious. Up until then you could see there was some scope, no matter how small, for you to be able to forgive and find a foundation to rebuild trust.. now there is simply not. You're taking back your power and ending your emotional investment on your own terms not waiting around for his "next move".

    Maybe it's just pure survival subconsciously pushing you into a space(sorta numb) where you can focus on dealing with day to day of the priority, now firmly the untangling and ensuring you and your daughter's life stays on track, rather than the messy and possibly emotionally paralysing emotions that the last few years have accrued.

    Whatever it is Pollyanna maybe able to give you a more thorough heads up as she has seen how you cope with a whole lot of stuff that "being polite" sounds very emotionally abusive.

    Best Wishes on building the light filled life you both deserve
    Belinda

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    1. Belinda, thank you. I mean that and I look forward to the possibility of finding your wisdom again at the bottom of my page. I'm feeling deal-breaker; I've been numb for a while and really it's hard to be angry reading this trashy tortured Made in China version of Romeo & Juliet (with baggage) or the Girl with the Pearl Earring as he describes her-it's too warped and silly and childish to hit on the tender spots. Theres more coming I'm afraid: like a buffet of emotional dry gruel i cant even escape at the school sports carnival. ... Bless you for sending so much caring in my direction xo on

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  2. Following your writing, I read back, my gut said deal breaker. I think it was your description of feeling relieved as I remember feeling something similar.

    My description of my husbands, what was perceived at the time to be another in a string of, infatuated friendships was that it was "two broken people being broken at each other". When I later discovered that that that friendship I was being assured was only friendship was really two people that didn't have the guts to actually stand up and end their currently ailing relationships effectively courting it actually helped me let go.

    It was all so high school and the relationship underlined a few traits he was subconsciously looking for in a partner that I was never going to be willing to be (emotionally needy, co-dependant, people pleasing and fashion conscious). On the positive side of their relationship she liked painting Dungeons and Dragons figurines with him and was a supreme fan of anime two things that I was happy enough to have in my home but they were not a part of my life as a teen let alone something I was going to value spending time doing as an adult.

    Yeah, there's sure to be more coming.. As humans we're so good at burying feelings deep to survive the minute and having it come back up to trip us up later. Ending your emotional investment in the relationship easily could give your subconscious permission to bring up a whole heap of yuck that you had accepted as never going to change but was supremely full of the F**ked up I know it did for me.. but then you have been working through some of yours with Pollyanna so you could easily be well ahead of where I was on this.

    Kind Regards
    Belinda

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  3. Hi Belinda,
    I'm sorry for the slow reply. Your comments always strike a cord (several in fact).
    Dungeons & Dragons figurines? Seriously? Words just fail me there :0/ my first serious relationship was with a guy whose only interest (apart from me) was breeding budgies- I thought that was weird- (well obviously at the time I overlooked it).

    The latest What-The-F@ck discoveries have, I guess just locked bolted, chained and nailed the door shut on any backward nostalgic glances. But also shown me just how much falsehood can be behind his clever charm. All this time he was putting on a bloody good act, spouting on about honesty and transparency: even the possibility of My regaining His trust. He cannot be trusted- that has finally sunk into my brain- no matter how much like his old self he appears- just cannot be trusted- ever.

    Aside from that though, I really feel light having got out of a relationship with Dr No - making decisions without The Spanish Inquisition makes me feel almost giddy with relief xo

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  4. :-) Glad to have you surface and have you continue to sound so resolute. I was pretty sure you had burst through the wall of his deceit and your self delusion and there was no coming back from there but are always shades in writing that can be misunderstood.

    Moving forward can be tough at times, honestly modern life wasn't set up for single parent households, but I found the universe is pretty good at reminding me today's tough ain't got a patch on "what could'a been tough".

    Best Wishes
    Belinda

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