Disappointment can save me.

I woke up to a dream that my ex-wife was trying to break into my bathroom while I was in there. I was pushing against the door and she was in the other side yelling "you can't come home with me." We've lived separately for over three years. I thought that point was pretty obvious. But she was still fighting and criticizing.

I am so disappointed by her. I needed and deserved a real friend. Not her. I wanted love and affection and approval and could never get enough. I cheapened myself by tolerating a very toxic marriage.

I have so many other emotions about that long period of my life—anger, grief, depression. None drive me away from her. Disappointment does, perhaps? Disappointment allows me to see her as small and uncaring. What was I doing with a person who regularly denied others, blamed everyone else for her weaknesses, and who was absent far more often than she was present?

And I pandered to that! I'm disappointed in myself. I'm so much better than that, as I'm now finally starting to recall.

Yuck. 🤮 save me. To all the good parts of me: it's safe to come home now. She will never try to break down our doors again. I own this home alone now. It's mine.

Why couldn’t you have succeeded?  I admire your efforts. But in the end, you never made good on anything. You took what you could from others as long as it was easy, and quit as soon as others surpassed you. 

That’s not what I believe my friends should do. I don’t believe it!s good for me to have people like that anywhere near me, my bathroom, my home, or my life.