I woke up at about 9 this morning, rolled over, and pulled up the covers.
I'd had it, you see. LJ, still "sick", slept in the spare room again last night. I put "sick" in quotes because it seems to be a relative term; too sick to sleep with me, but not too sick to have every single one of his friends over to watch the fight. Not too sick to go out with them afterward and stay out til 4:00 AM, or--before that--to notice that I had an attitude when I came upstairs (I'd been deliberately respecting their space, and doing some work in the basement) to discover that in the midst of "guy time", someone's girlfriend was sitting in the middle of things, drinking and smoking and generally being treated like she belonged there. Which I never have.
So yeah. I was not facing the morning very well. I went back to sleep.
I wish, now, that I'd just gotten up.
I had this dream, you see. In this dream, I found out that JP was still alive; that he'd been hiding out for nine-plus years--where or why was never satisfactorily explained, even in the dream. And he came back home, and agreed to see me. Even in the dream, I remember how excited I was when I knew I was going to see him again; how glad I was that he was alive, that my soulmate was back.
And then, when I saw him, he treated me like I was a million miles away, someplace he didn't even remember anymore, much less want to return to. He told me he didn't want me anymore.
I woke up because one of the cats had tripped the house alarm; woke up to klaxon shrieking and the realization: I can't win, either way. Even in my dreams I get left behind.
LJ and I fought it out later; as always, he made it my fault, my insecurity, rather than how he treats me. He's not 100% wrong--as he said, "I wish you'd just bitch about LITTLE shit, like not taking out the garbage or something--you know, something I can fix." But he's not 100% right, either--I know that too.
This is one of those days where it's hard to see the sense of spending another 40 years on this earth.
From what I know about you, my dear Gladys, and, granted, that is exclusively what you have chosen to write about here mixed in with my own biases and filters, your not being treated with the respect and gentleness you deserve seems far too common an occurance. Whether it's from inside or outside, or both, you've convinced yourself that you somehow deserve to feel left out, that it's your fault that you react poorly to being anything less than celebrated daily. It's not right. It sounds like you've lived your entire life being told that you're not quite good enough - your radio career, your writing, your choice of partners, your workplace, everywhere. That you're feeling rather bleak right now goes without saying.
ReplyDeleteDo you give yourself the credit due? Do you believe that you are a ridiculously intelligent, gifted, passionate person? Do you know you could be a published writer in a heartbeat? I've not even met you and your insights into my trivial little murmurings are an essential part of my week to week.
Stop giving the people around you so much power to make you feel insignificant and guilty. Platitude platitude "life is not a dress rehearsal" platitude. You do actually have the right to live the kind of life that makes you roll out of bed eagerly.
Them's my two cents, at any rate. And they're Canadian, so the exchange rate might not hold up well.
Here, here.
ReplyDeleteIf I could articulate myself that well, that's exactly what I would've siad.
Hold out for what you deserve Gladys. And keep the faith. ^j^
ReplyDeleteKa--you're right. I don't give myself enough credit.
ReplyDeleteI just don't know what to do about it. All I can do is treat the symptoms--the job where no one respects me, the relationship where I'm taken for granted--because I don't really know the cause.
I know it can be different--I remember when it WAS different--but I wish I didn't know. Maybe that would make it easier.
Anyway, thanks for your kind words, all of you. They're much appreciated.
Spring will come soon...maybe that will help.