I hate to keep revisiting this whole damn issue of loss. What I have gained, this new life, hell, my life. CoolCat and I have a decent place to live, enough food, no extras but we really do not need anything other than what is now here.
I mostly play games on a social media site and chat or annoy some of my friends, one of whom lives in a state near to me. It is her birthday next week. I still have time to send a card to her, maybe one of the bracelets or something. Thinking about what I would choose or make for her was really pleasant. You know, like the sort of thing someone normal, someone with a normal life would do. I like this thing about being normal. I am still not sure that I will ever understand what normal for me is, probably just like everyone else.
Normal is an obfuscation used to confuse and control and frustrate the proletariat so that they will be sufficiently occupied and unable to notice all the crap spewing from the self-proclaimed elite, which used to be just rich folk and is now mostly politicians, most of whom are stupidly rich anyway.
Shit. Where the heck did that come from? Whatever, there is no normal (except for the spewed stuff) beyond whatever each of us decides for ourselves. My normal is not the normal for anyone else. Oh, sure, we plebs do our best to connect with one another. Yeah, doing our best.
I think that I am doing a fairly good job at discovering what my life and what normal can be for me. And, a part of that today was noticing the birthday of my friend. Thinking about what to send to her.
Then, I did something stupid. Under the notation of her birthday there was a place to pull up more events. One was for another friend who play semi-pro football and after a few more birthday listings there were two in a row for a nephew and a niece. They are from my ex's family, his sisters' children.
I cannot believe that they have not removed me from their list of contacts, as other people on that side of the family have. My best guess is that they have forgotten that we hold this weird, electronic connection. Most of the time I forget it. I just miss them so much. I would give away another ten looms, more than a million easels or kilns or any of the things that helped me to survive for all those years, if it would bring those people back into my life.
That will never happen. My ex is their brother, uncle and great-uncle. His is family, their real family. I am not. I am the person who left without any notice, who disappeared, who eventually divorced him.
They are not privy to any of the details, much less the truth. Well, except for one of his sisters and her husband. I asked them for help six months before I left. I tried so hard to find resources to help us, but the only people to whom I reached out were the two of them. Even though they did not have the entire saga of those decades, I did share that I was afraid for my life and I begged them for help is getting my ex into therapy or treatment or something, anything to help us, for certain, but mostly because I knew that I would die if nothing was done.
Those last months, always I guess, whenever I tried to bring up finding some help for our marriage, he refused. When our daughter was struggling in school I was able to convince him to attend the counseling sessions that she and I had. He went once, raged about it, claiming that it was an attempt to discredit him and destroy him. Things were worse for a while. I never asked him for anything again.
I understand that the family is important for them, mostly because he has had very little to do with them for most of his life. It was only after we married that he ever saw them. It was not often, but I could occasionally coax him into going to a holiday or something. So, I really do understand that, finally, he was involved with them. It took me leaving and everyone being unable to find me that brought him back into their lives. So, that is a good thing.
Maybe it seems selfish to still long to have them in my life. It cannot happen. They cannot be disloyal. They know only what he has told them, something I do not know, although I have my suspicions, having learned over the years what he told other people about me, lies to cover what was happening, lies over which he sometimes tripped, revealing them to me. Apologizing. Going on to more, perhaps better, lies.
I cannot entirely fault him for lying. I did it as well. I lied by never telling anyone what was happening. I lied every time I made excuses for the times he refused to be a part of the lives of his sisters and their families. I was a damn fine at lying, so fine that no one suspected a thing. Even now I have never spoken to any of them. The only contact we have had was in court at the final hearing, where more lies were told about me. Lies to which my attorney wanted me to respond. I could not, did not. And, as we all left the courtroom, that sister and my ex threatened my life. I did not hear what they said, but my attorney, his attorney and two of my friends who refused to stay away that day heard everything. One of them still brings it up once in a while, so shaken was she by the experience. It pains me, but I let her talk it out each time; she was assertive enough to come that day, something for which I will always be grateful and will never be able to repay.
Whilst we, my attorney, those friend, and myself, were in a conference waiting, my ex's attorney came in and told us that they had lied in court and that he would have to file a letter with the court stating that. When I received the divorce documents, a copy of that letter was part of the paperwork.
Even though I never asked for anything, let him take everything except for what he did not want, I think that that letter might be the final thing that finished off my relationship with all of them. I will never stop missing them. I rarely think about my ex unless that is triggered by remembering something concerning his sister and all the rest of them. He comes into my mind by default.
After I read of those two birthdays I went and splashed cool water on my face and washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. All I could see in my eyes was all of that loss. I have not properly grieved many things, many aspects of that other life, and losing family is one more burden, one more sadness.
It is interesting that this is happening today. It comes following my work with Sister, my spiritual counselor, followed by a conversation with my therapist about my impatience in the progress of crafting this new life, which was then followed by the support group, where we discussed how we would help or advise a theoretical new group member who was not able to forgive anyone for anything.
Yes, I had a busy day yesterday, and every thing that happened built on the previous things. I struggle with the all the time. I have forgiven my ex for everything that happened. Even though I do not know any of the3 details over there, I have forgiven the members of his family who loved me as much as I loved them. Or, maybe I have forgiven myself for effectively abandoning them without any word from me. It is complicated. I have even begun to forgive myself for being such a successful liar. I have come so far and still have so much more work to do.
Even though I cannot send cards to my nephew and niece, or call them or send them bracelets, I am going to be brave and remember them on their birthdays. I am not willing to forget them. They will always be my family. Always.