The myth of healing

I had Mohs surgery three years ago on a small pre-cancerous spot on my leg. The procedure is intended to minimize scarring. It’s minor, and likely heads off much larger problems. Nonetheless, I still have a purple stain on my leg there which never diminishes. 

Similarly, the actions of a dysfunctional marriage caused  the full range of PTSD symptoms.  Shock. Mood swings.  Hopelessness. Anger. My exwife compounded the problem by her own illnesses—specifically she ghosted, blamed and gaslighted me. 

To this day, when I think of her, one or more of the symptoms roars into center stage and I am unable to function. I will never be able to form a trusting love relationship again.  It’s 4:04 in the morning and I am angry. I want to tell her how evil she is and instead I just have to send her interest on settlement balances. Talk about money for nothing.  Narcissists rarely receive Florence Nightingale awards, and my ex shouldn’t wait for any caregiver of the year nominations. 

Beauty is as beauty does, Mina. And you don’t do.

Finally, sadness and grieving  it’s often noted that narcissists prevent effective grieving   They subject victims to the constant stream of “that didn’t happen” and “it didn’t matter” and “you deserved it.”  Now, that lifetime of grieving is far too large for me to ever fully process.  The grief scar that remains turns every crisis—my cat Ceci was killed recently—into a soul disabling trauma   Depression and crying and anxiety remain, relentlessly waiting by my side, licking their bleeding lips so loud I can’t think clearly  

This is not healing.  this is surviving minute by minute, three years later.  I will always be alone with the full lode of my grieving. I loved my family.  I loved my wife.  I loved my cats.  they’re all gone and I am left here in pain, alone.

Permanent marks on my skin, and my soul.