Thursday, June 29, 2017

Worthless breathing

It's part of who I am to want things to be "fair". By which I think I mean balanced or perhaps ordered is the better idea. It's like you have an idea "this is how it should be" that is the centre of your world and you can't really handle it if it's shifted out of true.

And it's hard to abandon the idea that things really are "fair" even when they clearly aren't so much of the time. But in my own life, I try to make everything look the way I think it ought to.

So I look at how low I am, how deep of a pit I feel like I am in, and I have the two thoughts chasing each other endlessly: I must deserve it somehow; but I can only overcome it if it's not something I deserved.

But I don't think I can overcome it. I don't even know how to start. I needed not to have it come to this in the first place.

And that reinforces that I must have deserved it.

I know it must be hard for people who don't think in terms of deserts to understand someone who does. People have berated me for talking like that. But that's how I see the world: a web of transactions, giving and taking, a world we share the creation of piece by piece.


I feel bewildered. How can people want what they're doing? It used to strike me when Ally would abuse me that she was choosing that. She couldn't stop herself from just making it as shit as possible. And she'd say to me, you think you can just be shitty and then five minutes later, you're shrugging and going, it's all okay, but it's not okay. And I do get that. But I never saw why you'd prefer something horrid to something good. Because I think I never have been able to feel good about making things horrid for other people. But Ally does. It's like the wind in her sails.

And it's like every time I talk to her she wants it to be more horrid. It's as though in her world, if she makes it horrid for me now it somehow means she was right to do what she did.


But I was just struggling. I needed her. That was all.


The worst thing is, I have learned a lot about myself, and above all, I've realised I really am the person she thought I was. I mean, when she loved me, not the person she is pretending to her friends I am.

I know for instance that it's true that I sometimes process things wrongly at first glance and then get a better view of it given time. And knowing it is the beginning of being able to work at it. And I know that part of being oppositional stems from the same source. And that too could be fixed.

But what's the point? The woman I love only wants to hurt me. It's not enough that she took my child, broke up our family, left me effectively homeless, saddled with debts, left with a choice of living on my family's charity or dying in the street; she wants to ensure that I don't have a proper relationship with my child.

The child I try not to think about because when I do, when I think about how I cannot see her, hold her, kiss her, love her, will not see her first steps, will not hear her first words, am just exactly the kind of man I profess to hate, when I think about that, I want not to exist.


A bit more than a year ago, I had an endoscopy to check my throat. I had a series of blood tests, which showed I was in fine health, my kidney recovered fully from the stone, my liver in good shape, low cholesterol, and so on. I had good blood pressure. I moved into a house I loved with my family. I adored my wife, although she was worn down and unhappy with the fight for her kids and her pregnancy had begun to take its toll. I had a job that was solid if not particularly well paid, which I didn't love but I could bear doing, and whose hours fitted my life pretty well.

I felt good.

Then I lost my job and Ally used her connections to get me another one, not a great job but certainly better than nothing. But I started waking up with terrible headaches that would last all day and I couldn't seem to concentrate on anything and could be a bit bleh with people. I sometimes need time on my own to get my gimbals reset but it started to be I couldn't handle them much at all.

So when Ally told me she was leaving, I started to try to lose weight, which will go some way to fixing the sleep apnea and help me regain at least my physical health. I had pretty much stopped drinking.

But she decided she didn't want us to have any future and something just broke in me, what I had left just fell into pieces. And I started eating, not just comfort eating, gorging on sweets and the good English things I had missed. And I started drinking again. Not a huge amount but most nights.

And I don't think it out loud but I know why I'm doing that. Because I think I can get sicker, maybe even die, and it won't be like I killed myself. I can pity myself, perhaps, although I am not finding myself easy to pity; I am too disgusted and ashamed.


Why should anyone care? I don't feel like I have anything to offer. I can't have. Ally and I used to talk for hours on the phone; we'd chat online all night. Now she will not talk to me at all.


I know the answer is to focus on what I can fix and not so much on what I can't. But that only works when you feel there is a destination you can head for.

I can fix what I can fix and my life is still fucked. I am still going to be lonely. I am still going to hate myself. I am still going to be a man it's perfectly right that his wife wants "mediation" to try to stop him from ever being a real part of his child's life.

My worth to people was always what I could give them. Ally understood that and when I needed to take, she dropped me like I was a wet shit in her hand. I don't blame her. I too feel I have nothing to offer and nothing to offer is nothing to live for, leaving a life that doesn't feel real enough to save.