mindlabyrinthx

[mindlabyrinthx]

July 29th, 2024

It has been 3 years and 2 months since I last wrote on this blog. I have gone back and read all of my posts and endured the painful memory of what I was going through. So much has happened since then... so much healing that I have fought within an inch of my life for. I am now a happily divorced 29-year-old woman and a mother of two.

Yes, two.

I gave birth to a second baby girl in April of this year and have been completely engulfed in love with her father for nearly two years.

As I said... so much healing.

The daughter I share with my ex-husband is almost 5 years old now, and we share our time with her equally. As much damage as he inflicted onto my heart, he is still her father. He shows up for her for the most part and provides her with the basic necessities of life. Psychologically speaking might be a different story, but I am doing my best to provide extra to make up for the things he lacks emotionally. Otherwise, she is happy at whomever home she goes and what more could one truly ask for?

Some women search and search for excuses to keep their children away from their father or to milk more child support because of the pain they've endured in the relationship. But at what point do we stop making people pay for the things they've done to us? At what point do we stop viewing ourselves as victims of the torture and just let it be? The scars on my heart will remain there forever, but God sees his growth even if I don't, or can't... or won't.

He is in a new relationship as well for almost the same time as I have been. My daughter has just started talking about her last week, so I am really happy to hear that. It seemed to take an awful long time for them to form a bond but the more humans there are in the world that fall in love with my daughter, the better off she will be. Our co-parenting is strictly confined to conversations about my daughter and nothing else. It has been good for a long while. I hope he has healed from my mistakes too.

So much of my growth is owed to my boyfriend, the love of my life. I met him after the storm, when the clouds were still grey but all wringed out of rain. I met him when I was solely focused on the health and well-being of my daughter, and he was focused on the health and well-being of me. He took that angry, bitter, hyper-masculine shell of a woman and loved her to life. Loved her to softness and femininity. Loved her to a true woman. He loved my daughter too, so much, that she started calling him daddy about a year ago.

My youngest baby girl is a spitting image of both of us. She is all of our love manifested into a tiny human.

Looking back on the things I wrote years ago; I feel so sorry for the woman I used to be. She was in so much pain and agony all the time. So much uncertainty of the future, so much panic and so much weight loss. I do not miss her at all, but I feel the need to return to her sometimes and carry her through it all. I revisit the pain and it doesn't sting so much. I revisit the scar tissue and it's not so thick anymore.

My mind is still an intricate labyrinth of love and darkness, make no mistake. I am still unraveling every day like a loose string on a knit sweater, that's also being fed into a new sewing machine every day. I am happy and I am sad all at the same time. I am suffocating and breathing simultaneously. I am deep in the labyrinth of my mind, and I am running.

[mindlabyrinthx]

May 31, 2021

It took me just 44 days after my wedding to beg for a divorce. I tried to leave three times the year before and by the time the big day rolled around, I was so emotionally tormented and drained that I didn’t have the energy to stop it. I put myself on auto pilot and disassociated into oblivion until 44 days later when I truly couldn’t take it anymore. As if having a miscarriage on the actual day of our wedding wasn’t sign enough. And even then, he wouldn’t leave. He just wouldn’t fucking leave. So I had an affair on purpose, knowing it was the only way he’d truly ever let me go. And even then he begged me to stay. But reluctantly he did go and my god the shit I learned after he left. Cheated on a couple weeks before I moved to a new state with him. Cheated on while I was 8 months pregnant. Was never actually honorably discharged from the military. Hit on a woman at his uncles funeral. So. Much. Deceit. But I was happy that the poison was slowly dissipating out of my life and then I got bit again by a snake called co-parenting with a narcissist. I shouldn’t say that, he’s not actually diagnosed. But even he has admitted before that he has a narcissistic personality. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, am I right?

[mindlabyrinthx]

May 22, 2022

Much has happened in the last 90 days. Much has changed and much has come to light.

We have a finalized custody order and let’s just say I am more than happy with it. Our daughter has and will continue to spend the majority of the time with me. What once was relatively easy in the beginning, coparenting has become more difficult. I’ve been reading books and articles on how to coparent with a narcissist. All of them say it’s basically a pipe dream, and that the best thing I can do is put boundaries in place and maintain them without give. I’m getting better.

Unfortunately, we have yet to sign on the dotted line for the divorce. I am literally counting the hours for that one.

My (soon to be) ex husband is already in a new ‘committed’ relationship and has been since April 9th. It’s very public on social media. There’s reason to believe he’s known this woman for many years but I’ll never know. He says the first encounter was the first week of March and he took our daughter to meet her twice without my permission before I found out and boy, I put a huge halt to that bullshit. I don’t even know this woman and for all intensive purposes neither does he. Our daughter doesn’t need new people introduced into her life like that at 2 years old, she needs her parents. But I know he will never understand this. He’s a cold textbook example of a narcissist/sociopath with zero capability to love, feel empathy, or be honest. I truly don’t give a damn that he’s found someone knew, he’s left me alone almost entirely because of it and for that I am grateful. I want nothing to do with him. I dodged a huge caliber bullet.

So many incidents have happened and so many secrets have come out to play. Here are a few. He cheated on me when I was 8 months pregnant with our daughter. He hit on a woman when he went out of town to a family member’s funeral after our wedding. When we first met, he told me him and his best friend would hold each other accountable by telling each other’s girlfriends of the other had cheated. He set me up in the very beginning to believe this only come to find out that said best friend is the one who lied for him when he in fact cheated when I was pregnant. What kind of person sets it up to have an alibi for cheating when you first get into a relationship?

He was still driving my vehicle and had hit a turkey with it causing damage. I then took the vehicle back and he had a new one in the same day. If he was able to get his own vehicle this entire time, why was he continuing to use mine and telling me for months he had a deal to get it traded in? Sometimes I just can’t find the motive.

Overall, I am doing well. I continue to heal every day. I continue to remind myself that my healing does not depend on his ability to change and be held accountable because he never will. My focus is my daughter and thanks to my work schedule I get to spend a lot of time with her. I’m a plant mom now and I have hanging baskets and a new swing for my front porch. It’s now my favorite place of the house. I water my succulents and cactuses on Sunday. My daughter and I go for a walk every day, sometimes to the park. I got a mini swimming pool for her for the summer. I’m still trying to rehome my cats.

My heart is healing well and I look to my future with hope and happiness.

[mindlabyrinthx]

February 17, 2022

You truly never know who you are letting into your life and who someone really is deep down. I don’t know that there is ever a way to genuinely know someone and their intentions clearly with you until it’s far too late. Over the last week or two, I have learned that my husband has been lying to me since we met. I mean I knew this, but I did not know that it was to this extent. I have known my husband since October of 2018. Started dating in February of 2019. I’ve known this man for 3 plus years.

He told me in the beginning that he was honorably discharged from the military. He was not. He was generally discharged from the military, prematurely, for failure to support his spouse. (His first wife.)

Over the last few months (prior to our separation) he has failed to pay his child support to his first born daughter. I was completely unaware of this fact and now he owes back pay.

He put his first wife through so much emotional trauma and manipulation that she became extremely mentally ill and was nearly admitted to a psych unit. 

He did not contact his first wife in regards to his first born daughter for the first six months that she was born. 

He has had two vehicles repossessed. One of them was when we first started dating and he completely snowballed me and convinced me that it was an absolute mistake on the lender’s part and not his. 

Un-FUCKING-believable. How will I ever trust anyone again? On the plus side, I filed for divorce and primary custody of our child yesterday. 

[mindlabyrinthx]

February 9, 2022

My husband absolutely hates me. He truly and with all his might hates my guts and he has no problems letting me know. He says some of the most horrible things to me and though no one could ever put me through as much punishment as I put myself through, his words still cut so deep and I know will leave vast, ugly scars. After all, I did marry him and only 44 days after our wedding day, I told him I wasn’t in love with him anymore and I didn’t want to be married. For me, that day is the start of our separation because I had already been emotionally and romantically detached from him for so long, but we aren’t going to talk about me. I want to put myself in the most uncomfortable position I can, and slip my feet into my husband’s shoes. He married a woman and believed with his whole heart that any argument or problem that was present in the relationship prior to that, the day of our wedding was supposed to clear the slate. He believed with his entire heart that no matter what he did to me or to the relationship prior to getting married, our marriage meant complete forgiveness. I did not know he believed this until yesterday. The thought put a lot of things in perspective for me because for me, that was not the case. I did not believe that was the purpose of our marriage and to be honest with you I don’t think I had an actual concrete belief on what marriage even meant for me. I don’t know if that’s because the relationship with him was so rocky or if it was because I was simply just not ready to be married whether it have been with him or someone else. I can’t answer that question. Maybe a little of both? But again, I don’t want to talk about me. He believed in this idea that once we were married, all was forgiven and he could have a clean slate. He believed that he was done with love, that he had hit the end of the road and married the absolute love of his life and that she was truly just as happy with him. Regardless of how many times I tried to bring light to our issues, this is what he believed and 44 days later, the woman he just married, the woman he believed to forgive him of everything, is wine drunk at midnight telling him through bouts of tears that she in fact does not love him anymore and she regrets getting married. In his mind, again regardless of all my efforts to tell him what was wrong even prior to our wedding, he was completely blindsided. He was emotionally whiplashed. He was devastated. And from that point forward, he truly did listen to me. Everything I was telling him that was wrong, everything that made me feel the way I did about him, everything about him that made my skin crawl, he listened. He went to therapy to try to learn about why he was the way he was and to maybe make it better. To him, he did everything in his power to save our marriage. But what he could absolutely not understand was that the love I had for him was already gone. What he couldn’t believe and was appalled by was that I had already emotionally detached myself from him “without giving him a chance.” I could say in my defense, but… we are not talking about me. He was blindsided, emotionally whiplashed. And then he finally started to listen and hear me and decided he better go to therapy to see if he can’t fix our marriage on his part. He did the work and he was consistent and I did not care. I didn’t give him the chance to get better because for whatever my reasoning, I was already emotionally gone and to him, that is absolutely unacceptable and therefore, the detriment and end to our marriage was ultimately my fault. This is his mind and this is his conclusion. From October 25th when I told my husband I didn’t love him and didn’t want to be with him, I gave absolutely no fucks in regards to my husband’s feelings. I truly didn’t and I told him that on several occasions that I didn’t care. He couldn’t understand this, he couldn’t fathom this because remember, he believed our marriage cancelled out our issues. He truly believed it like anyone would believe we need air to breathe. So when he was begging me and pleading for me to stay, believing that he was doing everything in his power to fix it, and I was saying that I just couldn’t do it, I didn’t love him, the love was broken, it infuriated him. It hurt him so deeply that his rage grew into hatred and it flourishes in every cell of his body now. And on New Years, he left the house. So he lost all of that too. His house. His home. Our home. “I don’t know you, I never fucking knew you.” “You are about as rotten as they come.” And so many more that are too painful to type. He doesn’t look me in the eyes. He hangs up on me if I am in the middle of a sentence. He walks away from me when I’m trying to discuss things about our daughter. He’s extremely dismissive and entitled and arrogant, even more so now that he has realized it’s over. His hatred controls him right now. His hatred is in the driver’s seat and now you all know why. Will it last forever? 

[mindlabyrinthx]

January 31, 2022

It has been exactly one month since I have been separated from my husband. The first 31 days of this new year have come and gone. Co-parenting is the easiest part of all of this, and I am so thankful for that. It shows that we both can put aside the bullshit and put our daughter first no matter what and at the very least is what she deserves. 31 days does not seem like a lot when you put it on top of 365 but it is a significant amount of time to acknowledge when you consider all the changes that have happened within that time. I spent 3 months eating the bare minimum required to keep my body alive, but these last 31 days? I have eaten more food in these last 31 days to more than make up for that and then some. How I have missed the taste of food and I am beginning to cook more too. I hate cooking but I am going to be kind to myself as I learn to maneuver the skill and start making delicious meals on the daily. It is still a work in progress, but that is okay. I feel motivated, inspired, patient. I feel silly, calm, and kind. I mean shit, there is laughter in my house now and I am the only one there. How peculiar to hear the rolling sounds of my own laughter as it echos through the walls and rooms of my home. It doesn’t matter at all what was funny. What matters is that it was as if I had never heard myself laugh before. As if I never knew what it was to enjoy my own company until my own company was all I had. Yes, these last 31 days have come and gone indeed, and they were spent completely alone. It has been a very difficult month though, mind you, thus including some minor fights, a few snide comments during child exchange, silent treatments, an episode of domestic violence, some lingering attempts at manipulation, a dash of real honesty and truth and lastly, dare I say, growth. The domestic violence bit, I’m okay. I will continue to process that and everything else accordingly and in my own time but really, I am handling it a lot better than I would have previously thought to give myself credit for. I am choosing to see it as a gift. Actually, I am choosing to see everything that I encounter in this life from this point forward, a gift. I have chosen to gift myself pain to my heart in order to heal my soul. I have chosen to gift myself patience and kindness as I learn new things. I have chosen to gift myself the art of being alone and in doing so, I have rediscovered my peace and serenity. Ever since I was young, I struggled with the idea of not knowing who I was. I had never really given myself the time to embark on a “find yourself” journey but during these 31 days of being alone, I realized that that was bullshit. I have always known who I was. I have always known the kind of woman I am, what I bring to the table, my aura, etc. I only forgot these things and questioned these things when I allowed rotten men into my life. When I allowed a man to provide the bare minimum which taught him how much respect he would get away with not showing to me. Choosing to leave my husband has made me realize that I have always been the kind of woman I dreamed of being. It has made me realize that I am strong and self-respecting, and I will never not speak up again when enough is enough. I have shown myself the highest form of self-love and self-respect by making the decision that hurt my heart but healed my soul. I know I still have a long way to go. Growth is not linear, but I will brace and brave the peaks and valleys knowing that I trust myself and will continue to learn to trust myself into the unknown.  

[mindlabyrinthx]

“The truth is quiet. Lies are loud.”

[mindlabyrinthx]

January 3, 2022

On New Year's Day, my husband moved out of the house. I had gone out the night before with a girl friend of mine to see a band to celebrate the new year. Her and I have been friends since we were both 11 and we both knew some of the guys that played in the band. I have not had a New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day off in a few years and I was excited to spend some time with her. I had more fun that night than I had in an awfully long time. We danced, we laughed, we caught up with a lot of people we knew growing up. It was an absolute blast. That is until my husband showed up after he was finished with his shift at work. The mood and atmosphere changed instantaneously. The more drinks he guzzled down, the more his left eye would squint and reveal the unstable look I’ve come to know and fear. He would glare at me from across the room if I was having a conversation with someone. He would interrupt conversations to make his presence known in the most inappropriate and rude ways. He even pulled my girl friend aside and interrogated her, drilling her with questions about my inner motives and feelings. Later, she told me that he really scared her by the way he was acting and intimidating her. It was unacceptable. Apparently, during this interrogation he made the comment, “If I find out she’s cheating, I will take our daughter for full custody.” After we left, I confronted him about this remark. He was immediately enraged and denied ever saying it but then looked at my friend and said to her, “I fucking trusted you.” There’s your proof. You clearly said it. Are you kidding me? Of course, alcohol and pent-up anger and resentment towards someone is not a good combination and my confrontation quickly turned into an extremely heated argument between the two of us. In hindsight, how incredibly stupid on my part. I know how he is and what he does, and I really did just feed into it and pour gasoline on the fire in that moment. But it really felt good once more to tell him how I really felt. Many awful things were said. Including “I hate you”, “I want a divorce”, “You’ve destroyed me,” on my part. Including him accusing me of not wanting the baby we had lost on our wedding day, which triggered me to shove a table at him. “I’m the one that miscarried!” I remember shouting. It’s a painful blur. I remember him telling me 3 or 4 times that he was going to kill himself. My parents interfered at this point, as we were at their house because that’s where our daughter was and told him he needed to leave. He attempted to walk the 20 miles home, but my dad graciously gave him a ride. The next afternoon, I arrived home to all his clothing and easily accessible items packed and thrown on the love seat by the door. He was still half asleep when I arrived, so I laid our daughter down for a nap and told him that this marriage was beyond the point of reconciliation. I watched the sleepiness transform to rage once more across his face and I kept my poise this time as he yelled and screamed and pleaded his argument. He did not want to leave. But I knew I needed to stand my ground this time. No more tickets to guilt trips for sale. No more manipulation tactics pinning me to the wall. No more anything. It is time for you to leave. And after another awful, but this time one-sided argument, he left. I can finally breathe. We left each other alone for the most part the rest of the day. I deleted my Facebook and Instagram. A quiet, empty and sad night. A lot of tears were shed in the dark. The next day he messaged and wanted to take our daughter for a few hours to spend time with her. I had no protest to this. I am not cruel. She is just as much his as she is mine. When he arrived to pick her up, the anger was still in control. He couldn’t help himself. “So, how’s your single life?” It’s been one day, I thought. “I need a timeline on what we’re doing, am I coming back yet?” No, you will not ever be coming back. “She’s my daughter and I will keep her overnight if I fucking want to.” Not if you don’t have a stable place to live. “I’m going to take a piss.” Walks into the bedroom and looks around before coming back out, never using the bathroom. I assume it was to check that our pictures were still in there. Says he needs to use the garage to store his things for now. I said that was fine and watched him slam all the doors he laid his hands on while transferring his things from his car to the garage. Just stop already. While he was gone for those few hours, I wrote my husband a letter. I call it the “enough is enough” letter. The peace I have to say. I typed it up and decided to wait until he dropped the little one off safely before I sent it to him. He sent me a Snapchat of her and my stepdaughter together, so I was really happy that he was able to get her, and the girls spent some time together. He was also kind enough to bring my stepdaughter here when he dropped off the little one to see me before taking her back home. While he was here for the second time, he asked if we could have a face-to-face conversation Tuesday evening. I told him yes, and then informed him that I wrote him a letter and gave the option of reading it today or on Tuesday. He asked what was in the letter and I said I wasn’t going to tell him; he was just going to have to read it. He said he didn’t want to read it if it had anything to do with us finalizing the end of our relationship. The letter 1000% was all about ending the relationship for good, but I explained that no matter what it says, you need to read it. Period. He reluctantly agreed and I sent it his way after he left. 7 phone calls, 34 text messages and 56 text chats on Snapchat later. Most unanswered by me. I did answer 2 of the phone calls and remained as calm as I could, but I couldn’t get a word in edge wise anyway, so I told him it wasn’t a good time for us to talk while emotions are so high and hung up each time. After a while the messages on Snapchat became extremely vulgar and threatening. “So this is how it is. You are leaving me. Fuck my feelings. Fuck everything we worked for.” “I cannot believe you’re doing this.” “I pray to God you keep your word on not fucking me over with our daughter.” “You just want a divorce and that says a lot.” “You clearly fucking hate me. You’ve made that crystal clear.” “You’re fucking killing me.” “If you didn’t hate me, you wouldn’t be doing this. If you didn’t hate me, you would talk to me.” “How the fuck did I ever trust you?” “We are never talking again.” “I’m losing everything because of you.” “Elle is going to be fucking destroyed and you have already destroyed me.” “You better hope I never find out that you have another guy living in this fucking house someday because I will never EVER accept anyone into Bee’s life.” Etc. Etc. Those are just the highlights. I told him that if he didn’t stop these messages that I was going to block his number until he was able to communicate to me like an adult. He said another nasty, sarcastic comment one last time and then it all stopped. Finally. I know he is hurting, and I know hurt people, hurt people. But truly, enough is enough. I cannot take the verbal, emotional abuse any longer. And it is so sad because he is who he is so much that it doesn’t even register in his mind what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t even understand in his brain what is happening. I am so sad for him, and I am so sad for myself and this family I thought I’d have here. But he is a broken man, and I cannot help him in his journey anymore. He cannot help me in mine. This morning my parents came to the house and helped me change the locks. My mom helped me with catching up on laundry and cleaning the day before. I am so grateful for them. They are so supportive, and I know they are hurting through this too. But they see it. They see the rage in him. They know he could snap at any given second. They jokingly made a comment today that he very well may be a killer inside just waiting to come out. We all laughed nervously about the joke, but you could hear the silent unanimous realization that it is true.  

I’m not sure how to describe exactly what I am feeling about this whole thing. The only thing I know for a fact is that it’s the right thing to do. I am empowered with that. But I am extremely sad and angry. I’m hurt. I’m embarrassed. I mean, fuck, we just got married last September. How pathetic is that? Does that happen often? Who knows. The last few days I know I have pushed the feelings down and have just focused on taking care of my daughter. But I know I can’t do that forever. I need to cry. I need to scream. I need to let it out and I need to feel it all. The sooner I do this, the sooner I can heal. Mentally, I know I left him many months ago. It very well may have been before we were even married. I take responsibility for that. Hearts and feelings are so weird. Life is so weird. Everything I ever wanted out of it as a little girl I got within one year. A husband, a ring, a wedding, a life, a family. I got all of it in one year and I let it all go the year after. Sigh. I know the road ahead is likely to get a lot worse before it gets better. I know this is the calm before the storm. I also know that if this is rock bottom, the only direction I can go now, is up.

[mindlabyrinthx]

November 11, 2014

Moments like that need to be locked away. They need to be kept safe in a glass bottle inside your heart so they can never be forgotten. Only adored and cherished. Moments like that have the power to heal years' worth of pain and sorrow. They take it all away in an instant, no matter how small it seemed or how quickly it may have come and gone. You must take these moments; all the exceptional ones that hold this power and you must bottle them up like perfume. A precise and familiar scent that when opened again, can transcend you through time and space in an instant. I wish each and every one of my profound moments could be altered into scents. Oh, what a world it would be if we were able to relive them as easy as spraying our favorite perfume.

December 24, 2021 – December 26, 2021

I have pondered this one for a few days now, but I am perplexed. I cannot conjure the memory of why I wrote this down. I so desperately desire to know what transpired in my little 20-year-old life; behold again what moment was so profound to me that it caused me to feel that way. The curiosity of what specific pain and sorrow I endured then, that I don’t carry now. What do I carry now that I won’t have in the future? How could I feel so strongly about it then, beg myself to remember, as one remembers a certain scent, only to forget it just 7 years later? The very essence of this piece was illuminating the importance of remembering epic moments and what did I go and do?

I forgot.

Is it because the moment I once held with so much significance wasn’t actually as important as I thought it was in the longevity of my life? Or is it more simply explained, human error? I can’t figure it out. None of the entries made around this one provides any hints or indications on what the hell I was talking about. The naive trust I foolishly must have had in myself to remember. Would I remember if I smelled a certain scent again? Is there a scent out there in the world that the second I breathe it in, will allow me to relive that moment? Would I know? The vast unknown. Lately, I have been venturing deeper and further into that realm of unknown. Uncertainty. What a peculiar sensation though – there is comfort and serenity that I feel from this precarious realm. As equally terrifying as it is enticing. However, curiosity did kill the cat. Another topic for another time.

What moments do I hold now that I may forget in the future? What moments in my life right now, do I desperately want to remember forever? Oh, I can think of a few. Fuck! How do I do this? How do I keep them? How do I bottle these precious moments up like a scent that I have never inhaled before? What scent are they? And what about memories or moments that haven’t even happened... can the scent come first under those circumstances? What scent is it that I’m searching for to keep forever, to remind me of the memories and moments in my head that have never even come to pass? Say a stranger is walking towards me on the street. The wind picks up just as he passes me by, surrounding me and filling my nostrils with his scent. An overpowering embrace of earthy, woody tones over my entire body and mind, that stops me in my tracks. What memory or moment would this bring to life? Would I know?  

All these questions have no simple answers. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I started writing again in the first place so that way I could always have a way to revisit these thoughts, emotions and moments. I know scents are powerful. Words are so powerful too. Much more powerful than I ever realized before. I will not forget again.

Words and scents and thoughts and feelings. Moments fade but words do not. Scents fade but the memory of a scent does not. Thoughts and feelings may fade but the scar they leave does not. This thread has been difficult. I may revisit when I find I have more answers to write than questions.  

[mindlabyrinthx]

December 22, 2021

Tonight, my husband told me once more how willing and ready he is to do the work and be a better person for himself and our marriage. He has been doing his own research it seems and informed me that only 5% of people with the behaviors and personality traits he possesses can truly change. Only 5%. He swears he is of that 5% and swears he will get there. This is not what I’m worried about anymore though. I think he has a good chance at being better. I do think he wants it bad enough but that is no longer my main concern. I told him with tears in my eyes and sorrow in my heart, that I’m afraid the damage he has done to me might end up being too much for me to stay. This is no secret; I know I’ve told him this before. I have been feeling this way and writing it down for a while now. I mean maybe he can change and become a completely different person if he works hard enough through his therapy. He has every opportunity to do so, that’s just not what it’s about for me anymore. I am still quite angry a lot of the time when we are around each other. I still feel tears well in my eyes when I think about every horrible thing he’s said and done to me. I still have absolutely no interest in intimacy with him. I have not forgiven him for very much, if anything at all. I know I’ll need to if I ever expect to have peace from this, but not just yet. I know I’m not ready yet. He keeps trying to get me to remember and hold on to the good things about our relationship. The good things that brought us together and kept us together. There had to be at least some, right? I mean, why else would I have stayed so long? Right? 

Hmm... what were they?

I can’t really remember. I’m trying. The sex in the beginning was good. It wasn’t earth shattering or mind boggling, and I didn’t reach orgasm every single time. But it was fun, and different positions were tried, and it was revolutionary for him, but I can’t say the same. I fibbed a lot in that aspect. I never really could let go completely with him because he would come too quickly. Most of the time, I basically just had to lie there, so it wouldn’t be too much too fast for him. He also does not like foreplay or touching. I very specifically remember a moment where I was trying to kiss down his neck while grinding my fully clothed body against his, you know, the playful thing, and he stopped me and said, “I do not like that. I don’t like the gentle kissing girls do to try to be sexy.” I was so embarrassed and taken back. Being able to touch someone and kiss someone on their neck, chest, ears... tracing my fingers across their face and lips, running my hands all over their body... that shit is my love language, and I haven’t been able to speak it in almost three years! I... never mind... I’ve lost myself here. Back to the good. Back to remembering the good.

For the first year, we truly did not spend a lot of time together at all. He was always away for work and when we did see each other, the honeymoon phase was in full swing. Just happy to be around you sort of thing because you’re cute. Which is good. He does make me laugh. There are many times I can remember that he’s made me laugh so hard I nearly pee my pants. Which is good. We didn’t have hardly any one-on-one dates, if we went out, we went out in a group of his family or friends, but it was always a fun time. Which is good. We enjoyed overnight trips to the casino a few times. Which is good. A few golf outings, activities with the girls. Our Pumpkinville trip this year was a lot of fun. He didn’t participate but the girls and I had fun. Which is good. He watched from afar while I helped the girls pet the horses, jump on the ground trampoline and ride the carousel with them. He was present, but not present. There are a few playful memories like when I dumped a bucket of water over his head while he was practicing his golf swing. Which is good. I do remember some good communication skills shared but only when we weren’t angry. When anger played a hand, the communication was very poor and immature. I won’t waste time pointing blame, I know I’m not perfect. I did, very unexpectedly, get pregnant and she ended up being the absolute best thing to come from this relationship. However, I did spend 95% of my pregnancy without him. As I said, he was almost always away for work and only attended one of my appointments. I didn’t mind at the time because I was never alone. My little girl was always with me, growing within me. I had never felt more beautiful or healthy than I did when I was pregnant. Which is such a paradox because he had never made me feel like anything other than an alien while I was pregnant. He was always very strange when it came to my growing belly. I would get so excited feeling her kicks and punches that I’d quickly reach for his hand from the PlayStation controller he was holding and place it on my belly for him to feel. If he wasn’t immediately pulling his hand away, he rested it upon her for never more than three seconds before returning it to the damn controller. I can’t even remember him turning his head at all. This never changed and I never asked why. Maybe I was afraid of the answer, because in what world would that behavior ever mean anything good? Now that I think about it, I loved my body even more so when I had put on a little weight whether it be early pregnancy or postpartum but received less compliments from him than when I was clearly, severely underweight as I was pre-pregnancy and right now. Pardon me, but what the fuck? Ugh.  

No. Stop it. 

I’m supposed to be talking about the good things. 

Stay focused. 

Here we go.

[mindlabyrinthx]

February 2013

If I learned anything probably a little too late, it’s that the kids who smoked cigarettes at fifteen, got drunk on school nights and slept through the first three periods of classes, those kids had way more fun than I did. Those kids had more stories to tell. I'm not saying the other kids were boring, you know, the ones who did their homework on time and were too scared to stay out just five minutes past curfew. The ones who stayed up late worrying about things far too mature for their age. But the crazy ones, they most certainly had more “Oh shits!” than “What ifs?”  The ones who got to say they kissed the girl at 3 o'clock in the morning after sneaking out through the window and got so drunk on Jack Daniels that they puked their guts out but still managed to stay up to watch the sunrise. The girl who had sex for the first time at fourteen in the backseat of an old car, with a mixed CD he burned for a different girl from the week before, playing through the speakers. Those kids weren't bad kids. They were the brave ones. The wild ones. Good kids who were not afraid to figure out who they were at a young age. Kids who weren’t afraid to say no, to stand up for themselves, to not conform to society’s norm. Those are the kids who lived longer lives even though we were all the same age. If I could go back, I wish I had the balls and the heart to be one of those kids. Instead, I was the kid who stayed up late but not for the sake of kissing boys or taking shots or sneaking out through windows. I was up, trying to figure out every step of my life at fifteen. Piecing together a timeline and a career path that would make my parents proud. I was waiting to have the time of my life at a later date, and I couldn’t tell you why. I know there’s nothing wrong with that; I still had my fun, my adventures. But goddamn, I do I wish I had more “Oh shits!” than “What ifs?”- An excerpt from a past self

December 20, 2021

I couldn’t find the actual date when I wrote this, but it was around the same time as a few others I skimmed, and I narrowed it down to the February of the year I graduated high school. I remember writing it and I remember the moment I was inspired to write it. I was sitting at my desk in homeroom, some romance novel in my hands as usual. Though this time I was paying no attention to the words on the page but rather to what a bunch of kids in the back corner of the room were saying. They were talking about how they had a huge tire and pallet fire the night before. How they passed around a bottle of Jack, threw and broke all kinds of glass bottles and jars off of trees and swapped stories until four in the morning. I remember thinking, “Weren’t you people cold last night? It’s fucking February!” But something told me they wouldn’t and didn’t care at all. I remember quietly comparing my previous night to theirs; how I had finished my homework early, went to my two-hour dance practice, ate dinner over mindless chatter with my parents, watched some TV, maybe took a shower and went to bed on time. I remember feeling this overwhelming sense of jealousy listening to them talk and laugh and make fun of each other, wondering how I could ever get invited to be friends with kids like that. Kids who were courageous and brave, outgoing and full of life. I, on the other hand, was actually quite a shy girl who kept to herself most of the time. I was kind to others and got along with just about everybody, but I did not have the courage nor bravery to step outside of the comfort zone, especially with friends like the ones I did have. My girlfriends were more on the superficial side, and I don’t quite understand how I got to be around their group anyway considering I was nothing of the sort. I was the stumble over my own two feet, walk behind my friends because the hallway wasn’t big enough for the four of us, super awkward in gym class kind of girl. I remember wanting so badly to know who I was and wanted to be but struggling to find the way to get there, as I’m sure all kids feel at some point during that time in their lives. Even today, flirting with 30, sometimes it still feels like I have a long way to go to get to the woman I want to be. Or honestly, maybe that’s just an old mindset of mine that I really need to break free of because truly, I am always striving and working to be a better person and to get to these certain places in life and for what? Have I lost or never really had the ability to notice when I get there? Am I not already a good woman? Am I not already a wonderful mother? Am I not strong, courageous and brave now? Am I not sensational and charming? I am. I am. I. Am. And when I take away all of the now seemingly, meaningless nonsense, all of the algorithms and intricate paths I make up in my mind that I thought I needed, all I really want in life is to collect experiences. Do as many things, see as many places, create as many connections as one could possibly have. And also, to laugh every single day until I can’t feel my face. It is quite simple. To live unapologetically. And I’ll raise my daughters to be and do the same. I have checked all the boxes any parent could ever want for their children. A career. A home. A family, more or less. A superficially sustainable life to be proud of. But I am not done. Now, it is time to check my own boxes, for no one else but me. 

[mindlabyrinthx]

December 18, 2021 – 6 minutes to midnight

I have never met a man as relentless as my husband. He truly has a gift. Even when it is clear I have reached the breaking point in an argument, even when it is clearly best that both parties just walk away and let it be for the time being, he has this reserve of comments and remarks all lined up, one right after the other. It is a remarkable talent. I did not have the energy to remember this one. It lasted about an hour and a half and I’m pretty sure I blacked out at one point or another for some amount of time and when I came back, he was just... still talking. Is that normal? Does that happen to other people? The blacking out part because it was the strangest thing. I am so numb to it all. The continuous loop. It’s civil and decent for a few days and then in a flash it isn’t. I keep trying to pick it apart in my head if I am doing something wrong or if there’s something I should be doing differently. I do so much research about narcissism trying to understand as much as I can and it’s like reading a textbook of my life. I think what bothers me the most anymore, is not the pain he’s put me through or the self-doubt he’s inflicted within me or the tactful attempt at deconstructing my persona, no, it’s his effortless ability to become the victim to everyone else. I mean apparently after we finally parted for a time today, he called his uncle (who is very near us in age) and the next thing I know his uncle is messaging me and in a roundabout way, telling me, yes my husband has basically been an egotistical piece of shit practically his entire life, but he is going to therapy now for you, and he is trying to change his ways for you and he does love you more than he’s ever loved anyone. Okay, and? What about me? And trust me, I’m not trying to be selfish, but this journal is just a nine-week snippet of the last two and a half years that I’ve been enduring this. And now because he is finally being held accountable and is in therapy, I’m supposed to just accept that and move on? I cannot do that. I’m sorry but I just can’t. What does that say about me if I do that? What example am I setting? I would be silencing the voice inside of me that says enough is enough. The voice that says this is wrong. The voice that says I deserve better. I love her. This woman inside of me that he has done everything in his power to break, I still feel her, and I still love her. God, I love her, and I want her back. I miss her quick wit and broad sense of humor. Her playful atmosphere, and kind, soft voice. I miss the way she walks into a room, so unapologetic and purposeful. When she gets back, I will not lose her again. I will not ever again lose her for anything but especially not a man who didn’t respect what she was and stood for from the start.

She, is something to behold. Elegant and bold. She, is electricity, running through my soul. Lips generous and warm, you build me up like stairs. Eyes, innocent and wild. Remind me what it’s like.” - Vance Joy

[mindlabyrinthx]

2/19/2015 - All you're ever going to amount to, is all you are now. You all say I don't have the heart to leave what broke me but you know what, someday I will leave. Someday I'll be out of here. Out of this place and having the most incredible adventures in the most beautiful parts of the world and you're still gonna be back here. Back in my past. Back in the bar on a Tuesday night shooting the same old pool game and drinking the same old beer, with the same old leech-y girls nipping at your heels. Nipping like puppy dogs and one night you're gonna be in bed with one of them for the millionth time, with the same millionth disappointment and you're gonna lie awake and wonder where I am in the world and how far I've gone away. I'm going to be cuddling my face into a man that none of you know and I'm not even going to have to remember you because everyone knows you'll always be exactly where you are.

December 16, 2021

I am so excited. This is an excerpt from an online journal that I used to write back when I was a teenager. I couldn’t believe it when I found it today. The joy and embarrassment of reliving a past self. What a trip. There are but just a handful of writings in it and I decided to share this one for now. My first love was back there too, and I do believe this was an ode meant for him. I’ve always been a lover of writing and very particular with my words. This is still true today. I couldn’t tell you why, but if something is in my head, the formula of speaking it from my mouth has always malfunctioned but you put a pen and paper near or in this case a keyboard and a screen, well it’s just easy.

My first love was a wicked, twisted road that lasted on and off respectively, for nearly seven years. Mistakes, betrayal, dishonesty, infidelity... you name it, we did it. But the love we shared between us was an epic one and given to us at way too young of an age to sustain. Looking back though, I can identify all the regrets I would have, but I won’t let myself go there. Regret, to me, means lessons presented but not learned. Looking back on this old passage, it does bring up some painful memories but more so than that, it brings up the hope I had for myself back then. I hoped I would move far away from my wretched home town, explore and travel and marvel at all the beauty the world had to offer to a young girl, and eventually find my way into the arms of a man that no one would know had I brought him home, and it would be my last love. And I did just that. I moved to Texas very shortly after meeting my husband, where we remained for only a year. We were pregnant within a month of my arrival, and married a year and a half later. The deciding factor to come back home was wanting to raise our daughter and his first daughter together in the same area. Thus, here I am, back in this miserable little town. 

Reading that old passage today, reminded me of the naïve hope I had for myself. I did everything I intended to do, really. I did get out even though it wasn’t nearly as long as I had wanted. I found myself in the arms of a man that nobody knew, including me. But the only thing I was wrong about, was where I assumed my first love would be. I know this for he never left this place. He fell in love with a bartender in town and they had a baby just thirteen days before my little girl was born of the same year. And as far as I know with what little information I have, they are living a very beautiful happily ever after. Jokes on who?

[mindlabyrinthx]

the red light

There is a memory inside of me that I'm not even sure is mine. It is from an older time, maybe a past life or maybe, perhaps, it's just a dream. It is just one memory that comes to me like a movie scene, always around this time of year. I am the passenger in a car. It is in the dead of winter, just before the holidays I presume. We are stopped at a red light. Steam climbing up the doors and over the hood from the idling cars and heat outlets. The windows are partially fogged at the edges for the air outside must be two below. We've been driving awhile though, as there is no chill within anymore. I am looking at myself as if I was sitting in the back seat. I am wearing a black pea coat decorated with a red scarf draped around my neck. A black beret holds most of my long, curly, brown hair although some pieces are reaching up from my shoulders to play with my cheeks. My eyelashes sweep across light brown, nearly yellow eyes and a shade of lipstick that secretly matches the shade of my nipples. I look slowly to my left, as the driver takes my hand in his, and presses my fingers to his lips. His hands are warm and calloused. A blue collar gentleman if I had to guess, but dressed as if he wasn't. He is also wrapped in a black pea coat and a black scarf. His hair is honey brown, well-groomed but just enough to play with at the base of his neck. He pulls his lips away and a smile spreads widely across his face until it reaches his eyes. His deep, dark eyes; darker than mine but just as full of desire. The crow’s feet at the corners dance when he lets out a laugh. Are we lovers? Are we in love? How long could this last? It is but just a moment; a fleeting memory. Just long enough for a red light.  

December 15, 2021

This journal has been very heavy from the start, but today I woke up feeling much lighter. I won’t waste time pondering the why or the how. I want to just enjoy it. Smell the roses, if you will. This memory comes to me probably once or twice a year, always in the winter months. It’s like a conscious reoccurring dream that just as I’ve almost forgotten all about it, it flickers back in my mind like a movie scene. I won’t ponder the why or the how with this either. I consider it a gift, no matter the origin. 

[mindlabyrinthx]

December 14, 2021 -- entry 2

I haven’t felt this kind of emotional pain in probably 3 years. I think that’s why in the beginning, despite all the red flags, I chose to stay. This feeling didn’t arise at all, not even once. And I did not miss it. But despite it being dormant, I certainly did not forget the agony it brings. It is a heavy feeling in the center of my chest. It feels like my heart is just a blur but in slow motion. My breath is shallow and the tears well in my eyes. There’s a lump in my throat and I can’t swallow it. It hurts to swallow passed it. I feel like my body is shaking from the inside out but on the outside, it’s just sitting there. Still as a statue.

Does this pain have a name? Can I give it a name?

[mindlabyrinthx]

December 14, 2021

The last few days have been exceedingly difficult, and I do not mean fighting, for once. Can I get a thank God, Hallelujah? No, it has surprisingly been very civil in that aspect. The days blend into each other and I can see that he tries to make conversation and he tries to get me out of my head, and I can fake it for the most part but then I disassociate from the room and his voice fades off into the background.

I often wonder how couples who have been together for over a decade or more managed to get there. I often wonder if it truly is a wonderful and amazing accomplishment that when heard, we feel this warm sense of hope that if they can do it, so can we… or if in reality, they really had no business making it that far at all. Of course everybody makes mistakes in their life and most are deserving of forgiveness and redemption in their relationships, but was there ever a time where they should have ended things despite the circumstances of longevity, but chose to stay, and at what cost? Did they sacrifice part of themselves? Did their partner? Did they recognize confirmed incompatibility, but chose to shove the same side of their magnets together anyway? Forcing themselves against the universe and in doing so, denying any other possible chance at finding something that allows you to grow even more in this life? Because isn’t that what it’s all about? Growth? I have an aunt and an uncle who have been together since they were freshman in high school and they are both in their fifties now. In retrospect without any other provided information, that is a tremendous accomplishment. “People don’t do that anymore.” “Couples don’t stay together like that anymore.” Etc. But I went on a road trip with my mom and this aunt just a few months back and realized in my cheap opinion that nobody asked for, their relationship has no business continuing. For the majority of the many years they’ve been praised for, my uncle has been an absent alcoholic, leaving her to care for everything on her own. Degrading her in front of others, asking “to fuck” while he’s intoxicated in front of their children. An array of terrible things he’s done, and yet she still chooses to stay and when asked she simply said, “Because that’s what you’re supposed to do.” Maybe it is an old-fashioned notion that once married, no matter what you shall endure, you must stay put. You must. But in my head all I can manage to say is fuck that. You get one chance at life that we know of and you are living it right now. How long have you been living it? How long do you think you have left? How many years has she wasted on this man, who clearly never had any intention of growth within the marriage nor growth within himself? Sometimes, more often than not, love is not enough. But even truer than that I’ve come to realize, longevity is not enough. If I was my aunt and I exhausted every route of saving the marriage and I did my part and this was still the life I was living, there would be no doubt in my mind that I needed to leave. Nobody deserves to be in an emotionally abusive relationship. Nobody deserves to be in a physically abusive relationship. Nobody deserves to be the only one sacrificing and growing in their relationship. Nobody deserves to be the only one exhausting all efforts to do their part in their relationship. For absolutely any reason. There are people who do though, and they are what we call saints. But the sad reality is that maybe they know, maybe they don’t know, the number of chances they probably gave up to have a better life for themselves. This to me, is trauma. This to me, is a façade of what the older generation of today’s world thinks of true love.

[mindlabyrinthx]

Disturbing things my husband has said to me pt. 1

“If we ever break up and I find out there is another man living in this house with you, I will come here and rip his fucking throat out.”  

“When we die, I will still come find you. My soul will stop at nothing to find and be with yours.”  

“If we ever break up, I will never ever speak to you again. You will have to go through my parents for when it’s my turn to get our daughter.”  

“If you ever leave me for any reason, you’re a bad person. To me, you’d be a terrible person.”  

“You’re the only person who is aggressive in this relationship.”