I don't do "alone" very well. I always thought that having a husband, a family, would "complete" me in some way...and what a bitter disappointment to find out that they were not doing what I believed, almost unequivocally, would be their job. Now, it all seems so academic; if you don't have it within, you sure ain't gonna get it from without.
I still do not have it within.
I have written, to some extent, about the crime and the punishment. And, if you go to enough 12-step meetings, or spend enough time in rehabs or in the "recovering" community, you'll hear about plenty of dirty deeds. It's never a good idea to play the "relativity" game, and I've always salved my conscience by telling myself that I got cracked - HARD - because I have been given to in other areas. By this I mean that I've been given intellectual gifts, strength, determination, and the wherewithal to dig myself out of the hole into which I so fervently threw myself. After all, I tell me, if I'm going to admit and accept the bad - my weaknesses - then I am allowed to acknowledge the good - my strengths. It should by now be obvious that to some extent, this constitutes an internal dialogue between Me and Me...a pep self-talk, if you will. However, I do honestly believe that you are only given what you have the strength to withstand...although given by whom, I am not yet sure.
This only helps sometimes. And this is not one of those times.
My children, as I've said, are in the primary custody of their father. I spend as much time with them as humanly possible, but it's never enough. Not nearly. I speak to them almost every night on the phone, although I didn't talk to them last night; school began again for me, and I had classes until 10 pm...and, stupidly, I hadn't charged my phone enough and it died before I returned home. So, I was very anxious to speak with them this evening. For Christmas, my ex-husband bought our son a Wii, and it's been a huge, huge hit...it's something he's wanted for some time now. So, when he answered the phone, I heard It: That Sound. The one that causes the bottom to drop out of my stomach and my throat to clench up like I'm going to vomit.
What I heard was the sound of a happy family. My happy former family...my forsaken family. And I ask myself, When will that entity who has decided that I have the "strength" to withstand what sometimes feel like blow after blow...when will It have decided that enough is, quite simply, enough? Perhaps I haven't yet cried "Uncle" loudly enough, and the same stubbornness that I place in the asset column won't allow me to do that - not yet.
Oh, yes, I was incarcerated for 6 months. And the loss of one's freedom is a harsh punishment, to be sure. But that? A cakewalk compared to the loss that, quite simply, just keeps on taking.
I fully expect to receive some "get over yourself" feedback on this post and I probably need it. There's not a shadow of a doubt in my unquiet mind that I am doing nothing less than wallowing in self-pity at this moment, and the only thing I can say for myself is that at least I acknowledge that fact. But...moments like this, these are why I started this blog in the first place.