Leaving
Mrs Zen has the phone and she's saying, do you want to talk to your sister, she has your family there, and Zenella has been talking to them about how much money she will get when she lands in the UK.Because everyone has promised her ten pounds when she gets there, but she won't get there.
So my mum is on the phone and I ask her how she's going, because she has just recently had an op, and I am asking how that is, she says she is getting there, and are you okay? And I say, no I am not okay, I am leaving Mrs Zen. And I can feel my mum's shock across ten thousand miles. Oh I'm sorry, she says. I'm not, I say, I feel good about it.
I do feel good about it. I mean, I feel good for me. So long as I only think about myself, I feel relieved and happy about it.
But I can hear Zenella playing on her recorder, playing the song she has been writing, it sounds a bit like one of my songs that I play on my iPod. And I couldn't make Zenella English. I just wasn't man enough. I tried but I failed and what am I even worth? What am I worth that I couldn't stand Mrs Zen's shit for her sake? That I couldn't stand my own life being worthless and ruined so that I could get her to England where she could become herself?
What good am I that I chose my own hope of salvation over my children? Please don't write and tell me I did the right thing. I don't have a right thing to do. I can only choose which very wrong thing I break my heart over. God why did she do this to me? She only had to love me and I would never have stopped loving her.
I couldn't stand it any more. She sulked all week because I wrote an email. She said, I've been hurt because you were writing to your women. It doesn't matter that the email that upset her was to my boss, who knows I am online a lot and writes to me at night sometimes with work things. It could have been to K, or S, or P or A. They are the women she means. They don't seem like anything dirty to me. They seem like the people who have sustained me and I write to them because it makes me happy. Mrs Zen would rob me of my small measure of happiness for the sake of what? I don't even know what I am supposed to get in exchange. Years of the cold shoulder, manufactured hurt, spitefulness, inattention.
And my beautiful children. Who will now live the rest of their childhoods in her dad's house, strangled in suburbia, slowly becoming strangers to me. It should be her that is leaving. I had love enough for everyone. She had none to spare for anyone but herself.
posted by Dr Zen @ 8:13 pm
19 Comments:
So I'm thinking an old Triumph. A Herald maybe? There was one on that site for $500 and the bodywork looked great for '71. Of course it had more miles on the clock than your average lunar module, but how cool? Prob manual though. Hmm.
no I am not okay, ......... I feel good about it. (?) Utter bollocks, is this a spot the contradiction quiz?
You're a miserable bastard and you will be just as miserable for a whole set of new reasons if you leave which you probably won't.
You'll never attain happiness because of your narcissistic tendency's, nothing will ever meet you expectation. Or be totally on your terms.
You should leave psychology to psychologists, Gunt, but thanks anyway for your comment and continuing readership.
Dude, find a way not to be separated from your children such that they are better off for it.
And then party on.
Unfortunately, there isn't really any such way. I am going to do the best I can for them, but I can't only think of them.
There is no deeper pain and suffering than the consequences of not being there for your kids.
Everything else can be fudged somehow. You're no dummy. You can find a way. AND be happy.
Because once five years goes by, it goes by forever.
And one year in kid time is like a million.
There is no trade that is worth that kind of regret. Especially if you sincerely sense that they will somehow be neglected by someone who seriously neglects you.
You definitely do not want to find yourself on the other side of that kind of mistake.
If you honestly think that they'll grow up healthy and happy in the circumstances you're leaving them in, then disregard this clueless meddling.
If not, be careful.
Because there are no do-overs where your kids are concerned.
If you were just another heartless bastard I'd be encouraging you to get the fuck away. But since you love those children, and you're just deeply depressed and greatly disappointed with your current lot in life, I'd caution you to not be seduced by a fleeting bliss.
Sincerely,
The Crazy Penniless Dumbfuck Loser
Dude, I'd second what Zero's saying in a lot of ways. My dad left when I was 6 going on 7, and frankly he needed to not live with us. But for 7 years I saw him twice, plus a handful of phone calls. When he finally got his act halfway together, and we (my brother and I) started seeing him again regularly, we had lost something, quite a lot in fact.
Last year, when he was on his death bed, when he started to realize he may not make it out of the hospital, his number one regret, the one he kept on about until he lost consciousness a few days before he died, was not being there for us growing up, being so far away, never seeing us, not finding some way to be around.
You hurt enough as it is. You'll hurt more if you move 8,000 miles away from those kids and only see them a few times as they grow up.
I can't pretend to understand all you're going through, I'd just join Zero in urging you to find some alternative that will keep you closer to them, whatever it takes. You've only got one go-round with them, and with yourself for that matter...
Lost your bottle on your Monkey Banana post i see.
I'm considering advice on that subject, Gunt.
Who said he's going to see his kids twice every seven years, or any such thing? Although I thought so too in my first reading of this, there's no suggestion that he's moving 8,000 miles away.
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Some boys just don't like being jilted, hey Gunt?
Dave, Jilted why don't you elaborate!
Gunt, you have been more faithful to me than my wife. I am touched to know that you will be here with me through thick and thin. Mostly thin, but you know, the thick will seem like a reward for sticking with it. I let you in because you deserved it, Gunt. Think on't.
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We might laugh at you some, son, but I can't promise you'd come up in the conversation. You're pretty fucking marginal.
Didn't see this till now. Damn, Sam.
When I think only of me, I feel good about it too. I think that's a clue.
I really feel for you, because your smalls are small. Like Throck, my dad was distant, though not nearly as. All he did was get distracted trying to raise some other woman's children instead of his own. That was bad enough.
Been to Blighty, been to Oz. Being a Cali boy I'd naturally prefer Oz, so I'm not likely to say good on ya if you do go home. Wait a decade. Or, find a loophole and steal the kids. All that aside, I'm thirding $Z.
I meant Looney. Jeziz.
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