The dark places

I wrote about an okay day.  Those are the norm, with the power struggles and undercurrents that you just navigate as status quo.  The good days are like a drug.  A sensation of bittersweet hope courses through your soul, because it’s so good, and you can’t think of one sane or rational reason why it shouldn’t or couldn’t continue on and grow.  Except it just never does, and it’s all such a waste of what could be. 

But there are the dark days, and the dark places in those days. 

This is when I’m depressed, discouraged, exhausted, sad and hurting.

Numb.

He goes on about life in one of two ways: aloof and dispassionate; or, cheery, brisk, and joking.

When I was in my thirties, I had a recurring nightmare.  I’d be in the kitchen doing kitchen type chores, when I’d suddenly drop to the kitchen floor.  I’d lay there in pain, unable to speak, aware I was bleeding and possibly dying.  He’d come into the room, and step and walk right over me, as though I wasn’t there.  I’d try with all my might to let out a cry or scream for help, but couldn’t make any sound.

There have been times of intense arguing that have left me feeling like a piece of gum to be scraped off the floor.  Feeling hollow, paralyzed, unsure of anything.  I’d feel as though life had literally been sucked out of me, like I’d just given too much blood.  There were times I’d feel like a worthless eater, still in his world for some inexplicable reason.   In those moments, I’d feel like I was the mistake, and that I probably couldn’t have a healthy, happy, or good relationship with anyone. 

In very dark moments, I wondered if the world might be a better place without me in it.  Many of those times, where I barely felt the energy to physically move, I would come around a corner and hear him on the phone laughing and joking with a client, or outside whistling.    That would feel so surreal, and the cognitive dissonance so disorienting, that being institutionalized seemed like a place to go to rest.

I can respond intellectually to my marriage and life, but to go there emotionally, it’s a dark place filled with pain and fear.

At the bottom of everything,  is fatigue, sadness, pain, and fear.

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2 Responses to The dark places

  1. Amanda says:

    The world would be a very dark place without you in it shining your light.

    Like

  2. chosetobehappy says:

    Completely understand. Ihave bad dreams all the time, mostly it’s a vehicule that is about to hit me like a train or bus or a car heading straight for me, or my latest recurring dream which is that I miss the train, it passes me at lightning speed and I can never get on. But I have also been dreaming about a wonderful man who is in my life, sometimes I wake up and I dreamt that I woke up in his arms, he’s kind and loving and says good morning with a great bear hug and a good morning kiss. We stay there like that for a few minutes, they seem so real, those dreams are precious to me. it’s my brain telling me that there is something out there better for me and I hang on to them for dear life. I do not want to have the dark places but I get them too, because I still live with my pah and the shenanigans are still happening and I’m still living the hurt of the past. It’s something I’ll probably always live with but at some point, I’ll make it through the fog and so will you.

    Like

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