Taking and not giving

I have had a depressive part since I was a child.  I assume that streak was genetic, and then compounded by struggles to get the kind of attention I desired as a young child.  My parents were busy, active, and had responsibilities regarding my brother, so I was on my own for long periods of time.  I recall loneliness and uncertainty at various points, and I was overweight until 9^th grade…an outsider and an insider at the same time.

 

Then I ran into my wife, who came from a long tradition of emotional bullying and withdrawal of affection.  On top of that, her introduction to sexuality was a disaster---she was abused, ignored, and ended up apparently have sex behind nightclubs in Montreal as a college student. She may have been bisexual but as far as I know didn't act on it, despite regular affairs. Sounds like a miserable way to discover sex to me.  At least that part of my life was filled with laughter, loyalty, and intense affection.

 

My wife brought nothing to the relationship.  No cash, no clothes, no honesty.  She depicted herself as a victim of childhood abuse.  She was close to a brother who received corporal punishment regularly, and she was jealous of the attention her youngest, more innocent, brother received.  She ignored and was rude to her mother, and continued to curry the approval of her father, who mistreated everyone and always always knew better.

 

Now, the people I identify with the most in my wife's family constellation are Pam, and Vicky.  Because I think they sensed the situation I was in, they acknowledged me regularly.  Pam was caught between a husband and oldest daughter, both of who disdained her—and had a penchant for cruelty and public humiliation. Vicky knew how damaged her husband, my wife's oldest brother, was…and used a deep care and empathy to help heal and protect her family.  I respect your wisdom, Vicky, just as I now respect Pam's coping skills.

 

I also feel some empathy for my wife's first husband, who suffered a total neurological breakdown a few years after my wife dumped him because I had more resources and did more interesting work.

 

I am still depressed—that's all the 5 year old me, still trying to make sense of a lonely universe--but I've also been living with severe PTSD as a result of my marriage.  I have trauma and I'm impaired and in constant treatment.  Some days I think I'm making progress.  Others, like right now, are filled with anger and fear and inability to focus.  That's what 28 years with a sociopath does to people.  I long for a time when my wife can no longer hurt me, steal from me (I supported everything you did because I loved you, not because I thought what you were doing was particularly interesting—I enjoyed tennis a lot more than your playshops, though I was capable of wringing value from both activities), and break my heart. 

 

I long to be well again.  Perhaps with a partner.  Most likely alone and sad?  I do not know and I fear future pain. I'm working on it. 

 

But I grieve for my lost mental health.