My cat trusts, loves, respects, and thanks me

My ex-wife believes I'm an angry, drunk, aggressive cocaine addict.  Sexual weirdo. I choose my cat--like nearly all animals, she's a truth teller.  My ex---god knows what's going on in that frontal cortex.  If any of my ex-friends are with my ex-wife on this holiday, shame on you.  You know how many people she's hurt and you're endorsing that behavior with your silence. Yikes.  Shivers.  Happy holidays.

In her defense, it appears she's been diagnosed with a not-uncommon disease that plays havoc with the chemicals that allow us to determine friend from foe.  I feel that this condition may have existed for years or decades before our relationship completely combusted.  

I empathize with my ex and wonder how she's learning to live with this condition.  My empathy is of the lowest sort.  She knows she has this disease, but it hasn't occurred to her to apologize to acknowledge that her antagonistic behavior toward me and many others may have at least partially originated with adrenal gland irregularities.  

I believe she owes me at least an acknowledgement, but that might seem to her like an apology, which would be out of the question because she's perfect and she always knows others better than they know themselves.

Please realize that you never knew me at all.  You have to listen patiently to know others. Only losers hold space, which is a controlling and condescending concept. It implies the holder is objective and healthy and certified. Posh. Most space holders I’ve met are either stoned or religious. 

I'll wait for the call, honey...in the meantime, thank goodness for animals who are capable of trust, love, respect, balance, shame, and gratitude.  

Lacking acknowledgement, I have abandoned all the activities we did together.  Since they don’t matter enough to even merit a word from you, how important can they be. I haven’t had sex in three years. The last movie or TV show I watched was “Barbie” two years ago.  I do not run or mountain bike any more. I skied four times last winter and cried every time. I cook for myself and use meat sometimes now. I do not read books any longer.  I played Xmas carols on the piano a few days ago—I wiped the dust off the keys first.  I never move faster than a walk. What difference do activities make?  I have not travelled nor taken a vacation since 2021. I am on anti-depressants which may or may not make a difference. 

Partially, I like being home with Ceci and all the kind attention better now. I trust and love and respect her.  I am filled with gratitude. We do not argue.  We are often silent together, watching each other acutely. I can rely on her.  She can rely on me. I am a reliable man.  I’m certain of that.