Baby I’m amazed
No this isn't John Lennon. It's just a note about therapy sessions I've had recently and my increased perception that I'd been married to a child. Emotionally speaking. A woman with undeveloped immature emotional understanding of herself, and a "tin ear" towards everyone else.
As with all things, of course, I have no basis to know for sure. My ex has been gone for so long I don't remember her face any more. She turned her back on me for so long I don't remember her front! And I was not astute or skilled or perhaps interested enough to develop the therapeutic knowledge necessary to make sense of her behaviors and her impact on my wellbeing back when I knew her.
From a distance, she seems foul, sociopathic, and narcissistic. I made peace with that for many years, and the result is mental health trauma so deep I can't get her presence out of my own PTS brain.
I would so love to leave my freeloading child wife at a highway rest area. And speed away, perhaps in the Saab she totaled along with much of my adult life.
The eternal sunshine of a spotless mind. I could be a child like her. But I'd be innocent.
My brother was released from the hospital yesterday. Bipolar. I have those genetic markers too, though I suspect inly to a small degree. But I share, with my dear brother, the manic characteristics of not being able to overcome the pain of sorting through the rubble of never having my needs met. Of suffering from the indifference of others. Of seeing unacknowledged violence where there should be love.
Love. It's all you need, right baby?
I ache to be seen. To sing my song and not be ignored. To have a family where I'm not small. To love love love and be loved, just a little, for once.
As with all things, of course, I have no basis to know for sure. My ex has been gone for so long I don't remember her face any more. She turned her back on me for so long I don't remember her front! And I was not astute or skilled or perhaps interested enough to develop the therapeutic knowledge necessary to make sense of her behaviors and her impact on my wellbeing back when I knew her.
From a distance, she seems foul, sociopathic, and narcissistic. I made peace with that for many years, and the result is mental health trauma so deep I can't get her presence out of my own PTS brain.
I would so love to leave my freeloading child wife at a highway rest area. And speed away, perhaps in the Saab she totaled along with much of my adult life.
The eternal sunshine of a spotless mind. I could be a child like her. But I'd be innocent.
My brother was released from the hospital yesterday. Bipolar. I have those genetic markers too, though I suspect inly to a small degree. But I share, with my dear brother, the manic characteristics of not being able to overcome the pain of sorting through the rubble of never having my needs met. Of suffering from the indifference of others. Of seeing unacknowledged violence where there should be love.
Love. It's all you need, right baby?
I ache to be seen. To sing my song and not be ignored. To have a family where I'm not small. To love love love and be loved, just a little, for once.
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