What happens when your wife dumps you three times in 10 years?
Easy answer—severe PTSD.
My life partner is most definitely not trauma-informed. She laughs at women who are, and will bite your face off if you suggest that she's a "victim." In her mind, she runs the place and is in control.
And she banishes the damaged and weak (did I mention she's a judge, like her dad?). Hence, getting dumped so often I believe my marriage was a Pol Pot killing field. I was detritus for 30 years.
I supported us, brought humor and joy and energy to every interaction when she would respond to me, came to her aid the second she stumbled, started and launched two successful companies and planned so that she would be protected for many lives when I die.
I'm pretty certain she'll die before me. See how generous I am? She never once did a single thing I asked, so I just added decades to your life Mina.
She's thankfully 100% out of my will now—though I owe her $4.9 million from our divorce settlement.
I broke a plate! I continued to do cocaine and martinis to self medicate throughout the first, second, and third dumpings. I also spent $145,000 in therapy and retreats and medicine and other treatments to mediate the PTSD and resultant severe depression.
Since 2022.
I'm no better. I may be worse.
She's a life coach now. Her special expertise is holding space. Losers like her faithful kind loving husband—do not apply.
I'm still angry. At you. I'm capable of profound peace, continued generosity, long hikes, intellectual rigor, humanist politics, creative art and literature critiques. But not with you. With you I have the role you need me to play so you can sustain your false personna—you need me to be your asshole.
I am the farthest thing from an asshole anyone could imagine but yes, with you—I'm a motherfucking asshole. Me and all the VietNam and Iraq and Afghanistan vets. Me and Bradley Cooper! Pass the dinner plate Mina, and stand back a few feet. The doors are locked so you can't run away. See what real trauma looks like. You'll learn something.
My life partner is most definitely not trauma-informed. She laughs at women who are, and will bite your face off if you suggest that she's a "victim." In her mind, she runs the place and is in control.
And she banishes the damaged and weak (did I mention she's a judge, like her dad?). Hence, getting dumped so often I believe my marriage was a Pol Pot killing field. I was detritus for 30 years.
I supported us, brought humor and joy and energy to every interaction when she would respond to me, came to her aid the second she stumbled, started and launched two successful companies and planned so that she would be protected for many lives when I die.
I'm pretty certain she'll die before me. See how generous I am? She never once did a single thing I asked, so I just added decades to your life Mina.
She's thankfully 100% out of my will now—though I owe her $4.9 million from our divorce settlement.
I broke a plate! I continued to do cocaine and martinis to self medicate throughout the first, second, and third dumpings. I also spent $145,000 in therapy and retreats and medicine and other treatments to mediate the PTSD and resultant severe depression.
Since 2022.
I'm no better. I may be worse.
She's a life coach now. Her special expertise is holding space. Losers like her faithful kind loving husband—do not apply.
I'm still angry. At you. I'm capable of profound peace, continued generosity, long hikes, intellectual rigor, humanist politics, creative art and literature critiques. But not with you. With you I have the role you need me to play so you can sustain your false personna—you need me to be your asshole.
I am the farthest thing from an asshole anyone could imagine but yes, with you—I'm a motherfucking asshole. Me and all the VietNam and Iraq and Afghanistan vets. Me and Bradley Cooper! Pass the dinner plate Mina, and stand back a few feet. The doors are locked so you can't run away. See what real trauma looks like. You'll learn something.
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