Back in the day, I used to do this Valley Girl character for fun. As a joke I would say in that type of voice, “Wrap me in adhesive bandages and pull them off real slow.” I have no idea where I came up with that line, but it got me some laughs and a good amount of attention which I must admit, I crave from time to time. However, I wonder if there is a part of me that craves pain.
Today I had a realization. I realized that I have been watching and listening to so much news that it has possibly become a form of punishment. Actually, it’s not just recently. If I’m honest with myself I have a habit of doing this. I crave the truth and I keep digging and searching for it to a point that I actually make myself sick with the stress of the process. If you’ve been reading my blog from the beginning, you may recall me writing about how I had gone through John’s belongings in my basement over and over again trying to find something that would help me understand why he had lied to me for nine years. I wanted to find the truth and I was certain if I kept digging that I would find it. I searched and searched until I literally made myself sick with exhaustion and to what end? Did I ever have that “A-ha!” moment? No, I did not.
I’m starting to think that I may have masochistic tendencies. Have you ever known someone who repeatedly demonstrates self destructive behavior and think to yourself, “What’s wrong with that person?” I have been told on a number of occasions that if I don’t like someone, odds are it is because they are reflecting back to me something I do not like about myself. When I have learned about people who stay in an abusive relationship, I wonder what the hell is wrong with them? Why do that to yourself? Leave, don’t walk, run! Yes, I was able to physically end my relationship with John that faithful night my eyes were forever opened to the truth, but is it really over?
I have not seen John in over a year, all communication has ceased since he stopped making payments for the back rent he owes me, but he has never left my mind. There are times while lying in bed that I snuggle up to a pillow and think about the comfort I felt when I used to burrow my face into his hairy chest. I used to refer to it as my nook, it was a place that no matter how much my mind was going round and round, I could manage to slow it down and fall asleep. I used to refer to him as my “Significant Otter” not only because I love otters so much, but because they actually hold hands while they sleep so they don’t lose each other as they float along in peaceful slumber. Yes, he used to hold my hand until I fell asleep and then quietly go downstairs because he was a night owl.
However, I now know the truth. He wasn’t just going downstairs to have something to eat and watch TV, he was going downstairs to talk to her, his other girlfriend. After I kicked him out, I asked my son if he ever suspected anything and he said yes. In astonishment, I asked him why and that is when he told me that there were plenty of times that John would go down to the basement or out to his car in the middle of the night. My son knew this because he too was a night owl. I recently found out that one time when I was not at home, my son overheard John talking “dirty” to someone on the phone. My son didn’t think that he would be speaking to me that way, but he didn’t say anything because he didn’t think it was his place. I have since corrected his thought and informed him that I would never take someone else’s word over his…never! However, I’m almost certain that if I had confronted John on the matter he would have convinced me with an elaborate web of lies that it simply did not happen or that he was speaking to me and I just didn’t recall. Was he that good? No, I was that bad.
I find myself sifting through my memories and wondering what the hell was wrong with me? I bring out my mental cat o’ nine tails and begin to flog myself repeatedly for all the stupidity I have exhibited time and time again in my life not just with John, but with all the relationships I have had with men in real life as well as on the internet. The depths of my ignorance are mind boggling. So much so that I must somehow enjoy it. I must somehow get off on the pain, all the drama I endure, I simply must, considering how I repeatedly put myself into the same situation over and over again.
I manage to get away and to forgive myself and feel like I take a step forward in the direction of good mental health and then BAM! I take two steps back. Worse yet, I wonder if somehow I manifest the drama. I will be in a negative state of mind for one reason or another and then suddenly, I will receive a text message from her, her being Jane, the other girlfriend. It’s like my misery wants company and she appears. Out of no where I received a text message from her today. She starts out innocent enough asking me how I am doing, but then it leads to her telling me about all her woes and of course, he is a part of those woes. She tells me that he keeps bugging her for a place to stay and that if he were to ask me, that he is certain that I would take him in. Knowing what I know now, I can totally imagine him saying that and actually believing it to be true.
Would it ever be true? Would I ever be so lonely, so desperate that I would even consider letting him live here again? Not unless I begin to suffer from severe mental illness and want to lose all of my friends and family. I don’t think I could ever be that lonely or that desperate, but then again I do respond to her text messages. Why do I do that? Is it me trying to be polite? I mean, to the best of my knowledge she has never intentionally tried to hurt me. Is it me wanting to get some intel on him? What is he up to? Has he reached rock bottom yet? Or is it the never ending drama of it all, a fix, a “shot” of pain to get the old adrenaline going again. I reach with delight for my mental cat o’ nine tails and begin flogging myself, flinching with each and every whip. If I were to look in the mirror, would I see the scratch like lines on my back and smile as I wince in pain?
On some level, I think I receive some sort of satisfaction from it all. Knowing that I am still a part of the drama that is John, knowing that my name comes up from time to time. With a raised eyebrow, I wonder if somehow he gets off on the pain too? Maybe that’s why we were in each other’s lives for so long, kindred spirits. Well, I’ll never know, I’ll never know the truth because after all he is a chronic liar. Hopefully, one day I will find the strength to stop lying to myself, put down the cat o’ nine tails and allow the wounds to heal.
#thelieswechosetolivewith
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