Off-road beard riding with full stick control?
Yes, that's word-for-word the offer I got to cheer me up last night. Because he is as incorrigible as I am.
This is not my entry for today. I promise
Tuesday, 28 August 2007
Monday, 27 August 2007
Keep talking.
I thought today's ramblings were going to run the gamut of waffles and Pink Floyd. I guess not.
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
I hope Loch never calls looking for his copy of The Division Bell. I'm going to wear it out. It's the theme for today's thoughts.
Somewhere there's a list of major stresses, by degree, starting with death at the top. A scale, with two last names I no longer recall. Claus showed me this list once and I saw it again this morning. Things that would usually send people off the brink no longer phase me. I've become numb to everything, having ticked off just about everything short of retirement and foreclosure.
So I am re-sensitizing what I have put aside.
My meds have been readjusted yet again. It's become a comfortable high-wire act in itself. I go for tests to monitor the levels in my blood. I haven't fought it.
I go to counseling twice a week now. One psychiatrist and one therapist who specializes in adult sexual abuse. Both are working miracles and I'm committed to not being a total freak forever. I also have Joel and August (casually) to help talk and disperse the stress on Jacob. I'll write about that part tomorrow.
If there's one underlying theme to your emails, it's that I am 'strong' to have withstood so much in such a short time. I think all of it was inevitable. Life's been rocky and tumultuous underneath a facade of fine forever. Things were accidents waiting to happen. It's just a pileup. All of it I could have predicted, thinking back. All of it eventual.
I'm not strong. Maybe I'm just patient. I will be strong.
Bulletproof glass, perhaps. Oxymoronic.
The only thing I didn't see coming were Cole's suicide attempt and his sudden death that wasn't even sudden, taking days. His suicide attempt was a farce. A half-assed show to pull me down. He took enough pills to scare everyone but not enough to do much more than make himself vomit. He was famously sarcastic and uncaring about the subject of my own attempts and had pointed out people who commit suicide have choices, but they're cowards who won't help themselves or drama queens. I can't sit here today and believe that he was reduced to despair over the loss of his family to another man. I really can't. Reading his letters to Loch, Ben and Jake, he tells me different and I'm not ready for that.
Just not.
Can't.
I'm not ready for him to be dead yet. I keep dancing around it. I call his phone, disconnected long ago and I talk to the dead air after the automated message telling me the number you have dialed is not in service. I talk to him in my dreams, unconsciously, sharing secrets with him that I shouldn't. Telling him things that are none of his business.
I do that, you know. He's a huge part of me.
I'm trying to fix the memories. To keep the good ones and let the bad ones go. I want good things. I want a good life. I want to remember the good in him, for my sake as well as for Ruth and Henry.
It's coming. Things are falling into place.
This morning saw the arrival of a couriered package from Caleb's law firm. It contained a letter that outlines his promise not to sue my husband in civil court or contact us further. A promise, and a confirmation that he is going to fade away and become yet another memory for us. A professional, courteous send-off confirming what we hoped but never counted on. That he isn't going to continue, that I've been through enough. That as long as I don't contact him he won't bother us. A witnessed letter that is signed by several other partners, showing clearly that he came clean, admitted to his colleagues that he had developed designs on his dead brother's messed-up wife based on their previous relationship and he, for the sake of his career and his reputation, was going to put an end to our relationship. It's a very incredibly formal version of the send off that I gave to Loch and Ben. What goes around comes around. I can't blame Caleb for everything, I exploited him thoroughly and Jacob exacted a price for the return of my attentions. It's technically lip service that might be illegal thanks to the order of protection but the fact that he has done this has given us, given Jacob a relief beyond words today.
Long overdue relief that all of his real enemies have surrendered. Now if we can just get the imaginary ones to follow suit, maybe we'll be somewhere finally.
Onward and upward, Reilly family. Up you go.
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
I hope Loch never calls looking for his copy of The Division Bell. I'm going to wear it out. It's the theme for today's thoughts.
Somewhere there's a list of major stresses, by degree, starting with death at the top. A scale, with two last names I no longer recall. Claus showed me this list once and I saw it again this morning. Things that would usually send people off the brink no longer phase me. I've become numb to everything, having ticked off just about everything short of retirement and foreclosure.
So I am re-sensitizing what I have put aside.
My meds have been readjusted yet again. It's become a comfortable high-wire act in itself. I go for tests to monitor the levels in my blood. I haven't fought it.
I go to counseling twice a week now. One psychiatrist and one therapist who specializes in adult sexual abuse. Both are working miracles and I'm committed to not being a total freak forever. I also have Joel and August (casually) to help talk and disperse the stress on Jacob. I'll write about that part tomorrow.
If there's one underlying theme to your emails, it's that I am 'strong' to have withstood so much in such a short time. I think all of it was inevitable. Life's been rocky and tumultuous underneath a facade of fine forever. Things were accidents waiting to happen. It's just a pileup. All of it I could have predicted, thinking back. All of it eventual.
I'm not strong. Maybe I'm just patient. I will be strong.
Bulletproof glass, perhaps. Oxymoronic.
The only thing I didn't see coming were Cole's suicide attempt and his sudden death that wasn't even sudden, taking days. His suicide attempt was a farce. A half-assed show to pull me down. He took enough pills to scare everyone but not enough to do much more than make himself vomit. He was famously sarcastic and uncaring about the subject of my own attempts and had pointed out people who commit suicide have choices, but they're cowards who won't help themselves or drama queens. I can't sit here today and believe that he was reduced to despair over the loss of his family to another man. I really can't. Reading his letters to Loch, Ben and Jake, he tells me different and I'm not ready for that.
Just not.
Can't.
I'm not ready for him to be dead yet. I keep dancing around it. I call his phone, disconnected long ago and I talk to the dead air after the automated message telling me the number you have dialed is not in service. I talk to him in my dreams, unconsciously, sharing secrets with him that I shouldn't. Telling him things that are none of his business.
I do that, you know. He's a huge part of me.
I'm trying to fix the memories. To keep the good ones and let the bad ones go. I want good things. I want a good life. I want to remember the good in him, for my sake as well as for Ruth and Henry.
It's coming. Things are falling into place.
This morning saw the arrival of a couriered package from Caleb's law firm. It contained a letter that outlines his promise not to sue my husband in civil court or contact us further. A promise, and a confirmation that he is going to fade away and become yet another memory for us. A professional, courteous send-off confirming what we hoped but never counted on. That he isn't going to continue, that I've been through enough. That as long as I don't contact him he won't bother us. A witnessed letter that is signed by several other partners, showing clearly that he came clean, admitted to his colleagues that he had developed designs on his dead brother's messed-up wife based on their previous relationship and he, for the sake of his career and his reputation, was going to put an end to our relationship. It's a very incredibly formal version of the send off that I gave to Loch and Ben. What goes around comes around. I can't blame Caleb for everything, I exploited him thoroughly and Jacob exacted a price for the return of my attentions. It's technically lip service that might be illegal thanks to the order of protection but the fact that he has done this has given us, given Jacob a relief beyond words today.
Long overdue relief that all of his real enemies have surrendered. Now if we can just get the imaginary ones to follow suit, maybe we'll be somewhere finally.
Onward and upward, Reilly family. Up you go.
Sunday, 26 August 2007
Coming back to life.
In honor of today being a busy day, I'll leave you some crumbs from my breakfast. A tiny version of Things You Didn't Know About Bridget Volume 46537294. Or perhaps it's the first. I don't know, the dog barked all night. I'm tired.
-I have an unreasonable crush on the young David Gilmour. Like an extreme my-panties-are-on-fire-for-him type crush. Unfortunately when he was running around the planet wielding his guitar and looking like this, I was in diapers.
-I like dreadlocks. Seriously. Especially on guys. Jacob had them a long time ago. It was awesome. They felt very weird. I used to stick things in them to piss him off.
-I'm not taking the church job. It's a good thing, I've taken on more writing, I expect to be pretty busy this fall. Actually it's purely motivated by church politics since Jacob stepped down but they don't need to know that, do they?
-After listening to me complain forever, Jacob now makes my hair conditioner. He mixes three parts honey to one part olive oil and I use it after shampooing and then rinse out. It's seriously the best and easiest conditioner I have ever used. And he has some odd talents, don't you think?
-I'm learning things about myself at a frightening rate. And it's all good stuff. Not egotistical things, I mean things I do to sabotage myself and how I can work towards fixing that. I'm soaring, it's like I found the switch. Makes him positively beam. Makes me flood with relief.
Must go, church in fifteen minutes and Jacob has a wedding to officiate (!) this afternoon (he's still a minister, dear readers). Plus dog needs more walks than he's getting. That or I'm going to put sleeping pills in his bowl tonight because argh. Kids finally sleep through the night and then we buy a dog?
Sometimes I wonder.
Have a lovely day.
-I have an unreasonable crush on the young David Gilmour. Like an extreme my-panties-are-on-fire-for-him type crush. Unfortunately when he was running around the planet wielding his guitar and looking like this, I was in diapers.
-I like dreadlocks. Seriously. Especially on guys. Jacob had them a long time ago. It was awesome. They felt very weird. I used to stick things in them to piss him off.
-I'm not taking the church job. It's a good thing, I've taken on more writing, I expect to be pretty busy this fall. Actually it's purely motivated by church politics since Jacob stepped down but they don't need to know that, do they?
-After listening to me complain forever, Jacob now makes my hair conditioner. He mixes three parts honey to one part olive oil and I use it after shampooing and then rinse out. It's seriously the best and easiest conditioner I have ever used. And he has some odd talents, don't you think?
-I'm learning things about myself at a frightening rate. And it's all good stuff. Not egotistical things, I mean things I do to sabotage myself and how I can work towards fixing that. I'm soaring, it's like I found the switch. Makes him positively beam. Makes me flood with relief.
Must go, church in fifteen minutes and Jacob has a wedding to officiate (!) this afternoon (he's still a minister, dear readers). Plus dog needs more walks than he's getting. That or I'm going to put sleeping pills in his bowl tonight because argh. Kids finally sleep through the night and then we buy a dog?
Sometimes I wonder.
Have a lovely day.
Saturday, 25 August 2007
The legend of alcyone.
On the drive home last night he had his window rolled down. Looking at him in the streetlight glow, the wind ruffling his hair, one lightly tanned arm resting on the sill, the other firmly on the wheel, a smile on his face as he talked easily, I was struck by how much Jacob values me. Of how much worth I hold to him, as a person. Aside from the romantic obsessions. I have everything he wants. Someone to show off and be his companion, not his competition, someone he can appreciate and talk to openly, without fear of reprisal. Someone he trusts. Someone he wants. Someone he can be with and be himself.
Knowing how hard he's fought to hold back, to not want me to get better for him, but to first get better for me, and for the kids, and for us, and lastly for him. Most people would say, fix it for me, so that I can deal with it. So I can be comfortable.
He's never wanted that. He's so rarely selfish it's a shock when he is.
This morning I came downstairs wrapped in my robe and wool socks to be greeted with hot coffee and a small fire in the woodstove. Jacob was making fried potatoes and giving every second slice to Butterfield, and he smiled again.
A different kind of smile. That contented, peaceful smile I rarely see. I hope to see more of it. I think we've turned a new corner here.
It's a very cold fallish morning, freezing and crisp and perfect. A perfect day.
PJ called this morning too. He's fine. He really doesn't want to be lumped in, he's always tried to be a good friend, and he'd like to continue being a good friend, if we can do it without the weirdness and just get together every now and again for a meal or a trek or a short visit.
I said that would be wonderful. He laughed and said I was a big pain in the butt. I told him no, I'm not. I'm Bridget, and I'm a terrific person.
He paused and then he laughed,
Yeah, you are. You always have been though.
Today we're heading to the Farmer's market, and then we'll finish up the outside work for the winter. I need paint chips to match the trim and then we'll barbecue some burgers tonight and sit out late, drinking lemonade and listening to Jacob strum the guitar. Just the four of us. Very soon the kids return to school and routine and the craziness of the mornings and then the stark quiet of my new alone-time, since Henry will no longer be in half-days.
Maybe we've purged the rest of the pain. Maybe Loch was the key to unlocking what was holding up my recovery. Maybe finally being forced to cut ties with Ben helped spur us into a better place. Maybe not talking about therapy here and working really hard to find the right medications and the right counselors and getting my weight back on track has helped demonstrate that I mean business.
That I want this.
Maybe we won't have our Indian summer this year. Maybe we can look ahead to our halcyon days instead.
How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
And to make up for the surprise of throwing a Nash poem at you before I'm fully awake, I'll tell you something funny. Last night, Jacob was repeatedly referred to the Viking. It made me laugh.
He likes it better than Preacher Boy, that's for sure.
Knowing how hard he's fought to hold back, to not want me to get better for him, but to first get better for me, and for the kids, and for us, and lastly for him. Most people would say, fix it for me, so that I can deal with it. So I can be comfortable.
He's never wanted that. He's so rarely selfish it's a shock when he is.
This morning I came downstairs wrapped in my robe and wool socks to be greeted with hot coffee and a small fire in the woodstove. Jacob was making fried potatoes and giving every second slice to Butterfield, and he smiled again.
A different kind of smile. That contented, peaceful smile I rarely see. I hope to see more of it. I think we've turned a new corner here.
It's a very cold fallish morning, freezing and crisp and perfect. A perfect day.
PJ called this morning too. He's fine. He really doesn't want to be lumped in, he's always tried to be a good friend, and he'd like to continue being a good friend, if we can do it without the weirdness and just get together every now and again for a meal or a trek or a short visit.
I said that would be wonderful. He laughed and said I was a big pain in the butt. I told him no, I'm not. I'm Bridget, and I'm a terrific person.
He paused and then he laughed,
Yeah, you are. You always have been though.
Today we're heading to the Farmer's market, and then we'll finish up the outside work for the winter. I need paint chips to match the trim and then we'll barbecue some burgers tonight and sit out late, drinking lemonade and listening to Jacob strum the guitar. Just the four of us. Very soon the kids return to school and routine and the craziness of the mornings and then the stark quiet of my new alone-time, since Henry will no longer be in half-days.
Maybe we've purged the rest of the pain. Maybe Loch was the key to unlocking what was holding up my recovery. Maybe finally being forced to cut ties with Ben helped spur us into a better place. Maybe not talking about therapy here and working really hard to find the right medications and the right counselors and getting my weight back on track has helped demonstrate that I mean business.
That I want this.
Maybe we won't have our Indian summer this year. Maybe we can look ahead to our halcyon days instead.
How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
And to make up for the surprise of throwing a Nash poem at you before I'm fully awake, I'll tell you something funny. Last night, Jacob was repeatedly referred to the Viking. It made me laugh.
He likes it better than Preacher Boy, that's for sure.
Friday, 24 August 2007
Higher education.
I'm so not off the hook, am I? You'd like a real post too?
Christian comes in this afternoon and mutters something about yet another post about Jacob and his sweetness and his godawful inability to drink for a Newfie, let alone a giant and jesus on a stick, Bridge, we know he's affectionate. He's also completely whipped so don't even bother.
Nice, Chris. Lovely to see you too.
Christian is pretending to be all huffy so he won't have to acknowledge that half of his friends are now divided once again.
PJ was right behind him, they stopped in to borrow even more gear on their way to a climb. Only PJ wouldn't speak to me. I questioned him directly twice and Chris would cut in and distract.
How obvious. And stinging.
I let them take the gear and then as they left Chris told me not to worry about anything. PJ wouldn't even meet my eyes, though he did take a minute and scope out what the kids were doing. He didn't ask if Jake liked the job or if I was really doing okay or if he could have something to eat and based on the fact that they were in a rush (right.) I didn't push him. I haven't talked to him so I can imagine he feels weirded right out, maybe responsible, maybe he's blaming me, maybe he's blaming Jake, maybe himself. I won't speculate until he talks to me.
It's okay, PJ. Ben already ratted you out, sweetie. I just wish you had let me know first.
You see, PJ's been going to see Joel for months now. On a professional level. Because he knew all about the letters and was having a hard time dealing with the guilt. Which is funny because Jacob had decided he would just fight them off and not tell me and try to pretend it wasn't happening, PJ worked tirelessly to blend into the woodwork because he didn't want to wind up in the middle.
In PJ's position, not in Jacob's mind you, I would have ratted them all out.
PJ's crush on me serves only as a wish for a wife and a happy little home with children and has very little to do with me as a person. He's a safe friend. There are no strings attached to Padraig.
At least, there didn't used to be.
I can't worry about that now, I'm feeding the kids early and we have a new sitter from the neighborhood coming tonight so that Jacob and I can attend a cocktail reception at the university. Jacob doesn't really need any more cocktails tonight but it's a chance for me to meet the rest of his immediate colleagues, having met a dozen or so already yesterday.
I won't be having any cocktails at all. In case you were wondering.
But never mind that, it's an opportunity for me to put on my very sophisticated little black dress and my black stilettos and be smiling, scintillating arm-candy for Jacob while he shines in his new role as the youngest assistant prof they've ever had.
He's definitely the cutest.
By far.
Christian comes in this afternoon and mutters something about yet another post about Jacob and his sweetness and his godawful inability to drink for a Newfie, let alone a giant and jesus on a stick, Bridge, we know he's affectionate. He's also completely whipped so don't even bother.
Nice, Chris. Lovely to see you too.
Christian is pretending to be all huffy so he won't have to acknowledge that half of his friends are now divided once again.
PJ was right behind him, they stopped in to borrow even more gear on their way to a climb. Only PJ wouldn't speak to me. I questioned him directly twice and Chris would cut in and distract.
How obvious. And stinging.
I let them take the gear and then as they left Chris told me not to worry about anything. PJ wouldn't even meet my eyes, though he did take a minute and scope out what the kids were doing. He didn't ask if Jake liked the job or if I was really doing okay or if he could have something to eat and based on the fact that they were in a rush (right.) I didn't push him. I haven't talked to him so I can imagine he feels weirded right out, maybe responsible, maybe he's blaming me, maybe he's blaming Jake, maybe himself. I won't speculate until he talks to me.
It's okay, PJ. Ben already ratted you out, sweetie. I just wish you had let me know first.
You see, PJ's been going to see Joel for months now. On a professional level. Because he knew all about the letters and was having a hard time dealing with the guilt. Which is funny because Jacob had decided he would just fight them off and not tell me and try to pretend it wasn't happening, PJ worked tirelessly to blend into the woodwork because he didn't want to wind up in the middle.
In PJ's position, not in Jacob's mind you, I would have ratted them all out.
PJ's crush on me serves only as a wish for a wife and a happy little home with children and has very little to do with me as a person. He's a safe friend. There are no strings attached to Padraig.
At least, there didn't used to be.
I can't worry about that now, I'm feeding the kids early and we have a new sitter from the neighborhood coming tonight so that Jacob and I can attend a cocktail reception at the university. Jacob doesn't really need any more cocktails tonight but it's a chance for me to meet the rest of his immediate colleagues, having met a dozen or so already yesterday.
I won't be having any cocktails at all. In case you were wondering.
But never mind that, it's an opportunity for me to put on my very sophisticated little black dress and my black stilettos and be smiling, scintillating arm-candy for Jacob while he shines in his new role as the youngest assistant prof they've ever had.
He's definitely the cutest.
By far.
Pooh and his plan.
Last night Jacob came to bed late, much more capable of hanging out in a lawn chair late into the night, drinking whiskey and water and relaxing than I seem to be. He had one foot squarely in the hundred acre wood and one foot out when he walked into the bedroom and he shook my shoulder gently until I sat up and asked him what was wrong.
He took my face in his hands, and kissed my lips until I tasted like whiskey now too and he said,
No worries for this life, piglet, I have a plan that will be carried out most presently.
Hmmm? What plan is that?
A plan to be happily ever after forever, piglet.
Oh good.
It is. It will be. You're everything I ever wanted. I still wake up dreaming of you and go to mush when I can kiss you in public. In private I'm a goner, I really am. I never thought I would be so excited over another human bean in my life and I'm blessed with every glance you throw my way, every word you speak to me and every moment when I know you love me, princess. I'm so grateful for you.
At this point Jacob is attempting to sound drunkenly whipped. Doesn't he? He isn't, Smitten, sure. Obsessed, of course. Whipped? Not on your life. It's a bone of contention in a world of pure chauvinists. Trust me on that one.
Drunk, definitely.
Jacob, you're in charge of your life. You created this life we have, with me. I'm the one who's blessed.
See, piglet? I told you we had a lot in common and I really believe we do and we don't even know the half or the whole of it as of yet.
Yes. What you said. (I'm tired and just trying to keep up with his words.)
Only I really can't hold this liquor anymore. It's slipping to the floor and I believe I need some sleep.
Right. Goodnight, Pooh.
Good night to you, Piglet. I really really really love-
He was asleep right then. And I keep playing it over in my head, the drunken words he was so passionate to tell me.
He has a plan.
For us.
He took my face in his hands, and kissed my lips until I tasted like whiskey now too and he said,
No worries for this life, piglet, I have a plan that will be carried out most presently.
Hmmm? What plan is that?
A plan to be happily ever after forever, piglet.
Oh good.
It is. It will be. You're everything I ever wanted. I still wake up dreaming of you and go to mush when I can kiss you in public. In private I'm a goner, I really am. I never thought I would be so excited over another human bean in my life and I'm blessed with every glance you throw my way, every word you speak to me and every moment when I know you love me, princess. I'm so grateful for you.
At this point Jacob is attempting to sound drunkenly whipped. Doesn't he? He isn't, Smitten, sure. Obsessed, of course. Whipped? Not on your life. It's a bone of contention in a world of pure chauvinists. Trust me on that one.
Drunk, definitely.
Jacob, you're in charge of your life. You created this life we have, with me. I'm the one who's blessed.
See, piglet? I told you we had a lot in common and I really believe we do and we don't even know the half or the whole of it as of yet.
Yes. What you said. (I'm tired and just trying to keep up with his words.)
Only I really can't hold this liquor anymore. It's slipping to the floor and I believe I need some sleep.
Right. Goodnight, Pooh.
Good night to you, Piglet. I really really really love-
He was asleep right then. And I keep playing it over in my head, the drunken words he was so passionate to tell me.
He has a plan.
For us.
Thursday, 23 August 2007
Worth it.
I spent a couple of hours cleaning and catching up on laundry and business emails this morning. Bogged down and concentrating on wrapping it all up before lunch so we can head downtown this afternoon and surprise Jacob at school and take him out for dinner or something fun. Something different.
I went up to find the kids to tell them lunch was ready. They go off and play for hours alone now, creating fantastical play worlds or painstakingly building Lego villages or whatever captures their imaginations. They're independent.
I found them in the new guest room, the room that used to be the master bedroom before we moved to the back bedroom. The radio was on, playing classical music. Ruthie was in her ballerina costume and Henry was wearing Jacob's very best suit jacket, a tie knotted in a droopy bow around his neck. They were dancing in each other's arms. I stood and watched quietly as Henry spun Ruth around and then struggled to dip her as he has seen Jacob do to me.
And then I watched as the song faded to an end and Henry moved in very close to Ruth and put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her nose and smiled. As he has seen Jacob do to me.
That makes it worth it.
I went up to find the kids to tell them lunch was ready. They go off and play for hours alone now, creating fantastical play worlds or painstakingly building Lego villages or whatever captures their imaginations. They're independent.
I found them in the new guest room, the room that used to be the master bedroom before we moved to the back bedroom. The radio was on, playing classical music. Ruthie was in her ballerina costume and Henry was wearing Jacob's very best suit jacket, a tie knotted in a droopy bow around his neck. They were dancing in each other's arms. I stood and watched quietly as Henry spun Ruth around and then struggled to dip her as he has seen Jacob do to me.
And then I watched as the song faded to an end and Henry moved in very close to Ruth and put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her nose and smiled. As he has seen Jacob do to me.
That makes it worth it.
Wednesday, 22 August 2007
With friends like these.
So clever, whatever, I'm done with these endeavors
Alone I'll walk the winding way (here I stay)
It's over, no longer, I feel it growing stronger
I live to die another day, until I fade away
Why give up? Why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end
We've become desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the end
I suppose I need to get on with it now. Four of us know what happened, the rest would like the lights put on now. An existentialist, nihilistic turn of the tides today and a very uncomfortable post. I'm sure I'll leave something out.
It's long overdue. I'm always the last one to move. Turtle-girl. Jacob's morelasses lassy. Stuck in her fears. Spurred into action only through panic and pain. It makes me laugh because it sounds ridiculous but that's exactly what it is. What it was.
Lochlan and Benjamin will no longer be a part of our lives. We're done. It's over. I'm cutting ties and breaking hearts all over this country this week. You would be surprised at the lengths to which I am going to go to save this marriage.
Beginning with ending relationships that aren't healthy. There's two factors I've never given much thought to in my relationships and I finally see this. It's as clear as day. Jacob's been beating his head against a rock for years trying to make me see and I'd almost see it and then drop it like it burned.
The first thing is that I'm so used to not trusting people that I automatically come to not expect it. That allows a permissiveness. There's no accountability. I expect you've already failed or will fail me and so I let you off the hook without consequences. Doormat.
The second is that I refuse to make decisions. That has to stop. I'll move heaven and earth with my mighty little hands before I 'll choose. I'll sit forever on everything and never make the choices before me. I'll defer to you, to anyone. I'm so used to not being consulted after years of having choices made for me I am incapable of doing it anymore and it's coming back slowly. Oh so slowly. I only picked Jacob at long last because I would have died if he had left my life for good.
If I don't have to make choices I'll never have to be responsible for the outcomes. I'm never accountable. I'm delicate and above reproach. I was Cole's porcelain doll and I liked it that way. And then I was that to everyone. Hey, the more the merrier. No one's here for my mind or my heart. They like the doll and I like the attention. I don't care if it's negative. It could be the worst kind of negative and it would never be as bad as Cole and so I perpetuated the most unhealthy, destructive, sickly permissive friendships you'll ever imagine in your head. Letting them run my life and giving them access to touch. No respect for my body or my self. Loch. Such a long history with Loch.
Jacob came along and was a little weird on all of it. But he brought something else. Respect for me. A refusal to decide for me, instead forcing me to choose for myself, even if it took forever.
Of course everyone was still off listening to whatever Cole told them. He was the ultimate spinmaster. He was like an icon to my friends. They followed his word as law and so even in death they listened to him. And oh did he ever have a plan.
Sometime between Cole's attack on me and his suicide attempt he wrote letters to Jacob, Loch, Ben and I promising this plan for my future. Or so we think. When my letters were destroyed Ben and Loch decided to keep this secret against Jacob's will.
Cole wanted to mobilize our friends to take his place.
As a...group.
Cole offered them a polyfidelitous, polyandrous fantasy. With me.
Fucked-up, freaky, depressed, medicated, suicidal, deaf little Bridget.
Way to aim high, guys.
Cole was always obsessed with the subjects of open marriages, polygamy, polyamory, and the aspects of cheating versus nurturing multiple deep relationships. Maybe he knew Jacob and I better than we know ourselves, each other even. Maybe we are puppets. After all, my indiscretions with Loch set it into motion and my previous indiscretions (holy whore) with Jacob probably fueled Cole's fire. The road was now paved with permission, to move in and close ranks. To fight each other off while they promised me I'd be okay.
Ben told me the only reason he left now was because he felt left out, like he would never have a chance. Like he would always be last and so he was the first to cave in, especially since he feared someone or all of us would wind up hurt. Ben cracked first at the thought of leaving my life for the next four months.
Cole never trusted anyone one hundred percent but he did always want me to feel taken care of, financially, physically, emotionally. To solve that issue, ensure my comfort and satisfy his twisted bent for sexual deviancy, he wanted to form a collective, a group arrangement whereby I would be cared for and loved and kept safe and supported and everyone would get something for their efforts, for their cooperation.
A piece of Bridget.
I was to sleep with all of them regularly and exclusively, and Jacob and I would share parenting of the kids besides. No one would be above the other in relation to me and they would be faithful to me. I would be exclusive property of not one, but three men, who would all be accountable in their actions to each other. Something he knew would destroy Jacob if it didn't destroy me first.
They were taking their time, he asked them to take it slowly. He knew I would adjust to change so slowly. He knew I would warm to it. Eventually.
He knew me so well. Did he ever know me at all? I knew him and I wasn't surprised by his invention, what surprised me was Loch and Ben running with the ball like they have. Hungrily so.
I went from party favor to timeshare. And I never even knew. I'm embarrassed, ashamed and confused. I'm disappointed in Cole. I'm disappointed in all of them for never telling me.
Cole asked Loch and Ben to quietly infiltrate (destroy) my relationship with Jacob so that I would see him as only part of a larger image, instead of as the whole picture. Hence the offers, the admissions and the awful conversations, the situations and the encounters. How many times did I write here that both of them were so weird now? Jacob was told that he was only part of my life and that he'd never be everything so not to fight it.
They were never looking to ease my grief or give me a better life, they wanted their share.
And Jacob became possessive and angry, waging a one-man battle, sleeping with one eye open, aware of the betrayal lurking behind the scenes but unable to tell me. Watching me flit from man to man like a wounded butterfly, watching me fuck up.
He couldn't tell me and they wouldn't tell me. They would have denied it, leaving me to question Jacob. The damage was being done, don't you see? As much as I relished his unusual, breathless devotion, his actions would have eroded the trust we've tried to build. And I trust that all of his romance and all of his words were because he loved me and not because he wanted to win. Because he has already won.
So God knows what was in my letters. Frankly I no longer care.
I was too fragile to be trusted and too blind to believe. And he was forced to live in agony because if I didn't figure it out for myself I never would have figured it out at all.
I am too fragile to withstand this but I'm going to do it anyway. It's not a bad thing, just something that was long overdue.
This is weird and cold and so uncomfortable and I was afraid. At the end of the day this is exactly how Cole always wanted me to feel. It's the type of thing he would do. A half-misguided, totally fucked up way to ensure that his little Bridget never wants for anything and the perfect way to keep his closest rival from ever having it all. He was a dangerous man and right now I'm glad he's dead.
All of it fucked up and doomed to fail. And I told this to all three of them and they stared at me expectantly. Like they were still stupidly waiting for me to accept or reject Cole's instructions for my future. Pressure keeping me from having a choice. My own twisted definition of love and how it works working against me for the first time ever. My own sick unspoken curiosities scaring the fuck out of my husband, who doesn't want this. He left the room, unable to breath, to keep from panicking, his fears rendering him incapacitated. I don't often see him like that. I never want to see it again.
I know running through his head right then was a litany of prayers to please please let me stay with him. Possessive and stubborn to a fault. Hopeful to no end. Selfish enough to not even consider how wrong this feels. Or how unacceptable it really is. He knows he couldn't fight this one with religion for backup, knowing Cole fucked me up that much.
That I would consider this because of what's in it FOR ME.
Standing there surrounded by the men I've loved almost my whole life I balled the letters up and threw them to the floor and turned my back on three of those men. Loch and Ben are as gone as Cole. Three strikes you're out, third times the charm.
As always, running a million miles an hour on shock and feeling without a plan.
Only I won't talk to them in my sleep.
Their hands. Why do I remember hands? Loch's hot hands on me, parked in a cornfield when he chose the hottest night of the summer to make me scream and never look back. Ben's icy hands curled around my knees the night we lost a tent in a snowstorm on our first group winter camping trip and we opted to sleep packed like sardines in the one remaining tent for warmth. Jacob's perfect hands, rough and larger than my head. Cole's beautiful soft artistic hands.
Jacob came back into the room, composed and resigned. To wait for the inevitable cue from me. He knows me well and didn't have to wait long. It's my life and no one, especially someone who's dead is going to decide how I'll live it. I looked at Jacob and whispered to him,
Fix it, please, Jake.
He shook his head sadly and waited and I stared at him for the longest time in total silence.
No, Bridget. You have to fix this.
I threw Loch and Ben out and told them not to come back. I said the time has come. I'm not going to stand by and let things happen, or let people close to me who aren't good for me or don't want what's best for me and if they want to think he's controlling, well, then I don't really fucking care anymore but from now on I come first and this sick game is over because Cole is dead and he doesn't run this show anymore. I do. I'm going to, from now on.
They left. I went down. Hard. I have now buried three of the people close to me and I'm running out of arms to run into.
I turned around and the biggest, most loving arms were wide open for me.
He held me all night. My last vestiges of comfort, my last memories of life before Jacob taken to the same place the ones with Cole now rest. Right there, but beyond my grasp. A place I can visit but I don't have to live there anymore.
I asked for and received some seriously illegal sedatives. I think we evaded what could have been much worse and things are so very quiet now. While I slept all traces of Lochlan and Benjamin were obliterated from this house. We explained to the kids that they wouldn't be around any more and we were truthful with them. God, that's what hurts the most because the boys had close relationships with Ruth and Henry, who have now lost three people and they're too young to have to deal with this but onward we go as a family.
It just adds to the load my heart must carry but I can handle this. It is with relief when I wake in the mornings. Not grief. I thought it would be grief but it isn't.
Jacob pulled another moment out of thin air to keep me from catching my breath as long as I live.
I asked him why he didn't just boot them out, cut them off, overrule me or somehow give up Cole's secret a year ago? Even as I also kept Cole's dirty little secrets to protect my friends, why shouldn't Jacob keep Cole's secrets to protect me?
He said that more important to him than us, is me. Simply me. And if I am happy, then he is happy and that is all that matters. That I come first, before his wishes and even before what he sees as good for me or not. That I'm not his to control but yes, he's going to do everything he can to protect me until the end of time. That we've made so many mistakes but we're going to learn together and decide together and be together and it's going to be healthy. For me.
He promised me I'll never be lonesome, I'll never want for anything, and I'll never be used or hurt ever again. And he said that he was even prouder of me now than he was when I jumped out of an airplane on our anniversary, because I'm learning how to step outside of my uncomfortable zone and take leaps of faith. It's just so fucking hard.
Alone I'll walk the winding way (here I stay)
It's over, no longer, I feel it growing stronger
I live to die another day, until I fade away
Why give up? Why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end
We've become desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the end
I suppose I need to get on with it now. Four of us know what happened, the rest would like the lights put on now. An existentialist, nihilistic turn of the tides today and a very uncomfortable post. I'm sure I'll leave something out.
It's long overdue. I'm always the last one to move. Turtle-girl. Jacob's morelasses lassy. Stuck in her fears. Spurred into action only through panic and pain. It makes me laugh because it sounds ridiculous but that's exactly what it is. What it was.
Lochlan and Benjamin will no longer be a part of our lives. We're done. It's over. I'm cutting ties and breaking hearts all over this country this week. You would be surprised at the lengths to which I am going to go to save this marriage.
Beginning with ending relationships that aren't healthy. There's two factors I've never given much thought to in my relationships and I finally see this. It's as clear as day. Jacob's been beating his head against a rock for years trying to make me see and I'd almost see it and then drop it like it burned.
The first thing is that I'm so used to not trusting people that I automatically come to not expect it. That allows a permissiveness. There's no accountability. I expect you've already failed or will fail me and so I let you off the hook without consequences. Doormat.
The second is that I refuse to make decisions. That has to stop. I'll move heaven and earth with my mighty little hands before I 'll choose. I'll sit forever on everything and never make the choices before me. I'll defer to you, to anyone. I'm so used to not being consulted after years of having choices made for me I am incapable of doing it anymore and it's coming back slowly. Oh so slowly. I only picked Jacob at long last because I would have died if he had left my life for good.
If I don't have to make choices I'll never have to be responsible for the outcomes. I'm never accountable. I'm delicate and above reproach. I was Cole's porcelain doll and I liked it that way. And then I was that to everyone. Hey, the more the merrier. No one's here for my mind or my heart. They like the doll and I like the attention. I don't care if it's negative. It could be the worst kind of negative and it would never be as bad as Cole and so I perpetuated the most unhealthy, destructive, sickly permissive friendships you'll ever imagine in your head. Letting them run my life and giving them access to touch. No respect for my body or my self. Loch. Such a long history with Loch.
Jacob came along and was a little weird on all of it. But he brought something else. Respect for me. A refusal to decide for me, instead forcing me to choose for myself, even if it took forever.
Of course everyone was still off listening to whatever Cole told them. He was the ultimate spinmaster. He was like an icon to my friends. They followed his word as law and so even in death they listened to him. And oh did he ever have a plan.
Sometime between Cole's attack on me and his suicide attempt he wrote letters to Jacob, Loch, Ben and I promising this plan for my future. Or so we think. When my letters were destroyed Ben and Loch decided to keep this secret against Jacob's will.
Cole wanted to mobilize our friends to take his place.
As a...group.
Cole offered them a polyfidelitous, polyandrous fantasy. With me.
Fucked-up, freaky, depressed, medicated, suicidal, deaf little Bridget.
Way to aim high, guys.
Cole was always obsessed with the subjects of open marriages, polygamy, polyamory, and the aspects of cheating versus nurturing multiple deep relationships. Maybe he knew Jacob and I better than we know ourselves, each other even. Maybe we are puppets. After all, my indiscretions with Loch set it into motion and my previous indiscretions (holy whore) with Jacob probably fueled Cole's fire. The road was now paved with permission, to move in and close ranks. To fight each other off while they promised me I'd be okay.
Ben told me the only reason he left now was because he felt left out, like he would never have a chance. Like he would always be last and so he was the first to cave in, especially since he feared someone or all of us would wind up hurt. Ben cracked first at the thought of leaving my life for the next four months.
Cole never trusted anyone one hundred percent but he did always want me to feel taken care of, financially, physically, emotionally. To solve that issue, ensure my comfort and satisfy his twisted bent for sexual deviancy, he wanted to form a collective, a group arrangement whereby I would be cared for and loved and kept safe and supported and everyone would get something for their efforts, for their cooperation.
A piece of Bridget.
I was to sleep with all of them regularly and exclusively, and Jacob and I would share parenting of the kids besides. No one would be above the other in relation to me and they would be faithful to me. I would be exclusive property of not one, but three men, who would all be accountable in their actions to each other. Something he knew would destroy Jacob if it didn't destroy me first.
They were taking their time, he asked them to take it slowly. He knew I would adjust to change so slowly. He knew I would warm to it. Eventually.
He knew me so well. Did he ever know me at all? I knew him and I wasn't surprised by his invention, what surprised me was Loch and Ben running with the ball like they have. Hungrily so.
I went from party favor to timeshare. And I never even knew. I'm embarrassed, ashamed and confused. I'm disappointed in Cole. I'm disappointed in all of them for never telling me.
Cole asked Loch and Ben to quietly infiltrate (destroy) my relationship with Jacob so that I would see him as only part of a larger image, instead of as the whole picture. Hence the offers, the admissions and the awful conversations, the situations and the encounters. How many times did I write here that both of them were so weird now? Jacob was told that he was only part of my life and that he'd never be everything so not to fight it.
They were never looking to ease my grief or give me a better life, they wanted their share.
And Jacob became possessive and angry, waging a one-man battle, sleeping with one eye open, aware of the betrayal lurking behind the scenes but unable to tell me. Watching me flit from man to man like a wounded butterfly, watching me fuck up.
He couldn't tell me and they wouldn't tell me. They would have denied it, leaving me to question Jacob. The damage was being done, don't you see? As much as I relished his unusual, breathless devotion, his actions would have eroded the trust we've tried to build. And I trust that all of his romance and all of his words were because he loved me and not because he wanted to win. Because he has already won.
So God knows what was in my letters. Frankly I no longer care.
I was too fragile to be trusted and too blind to believe. And he was forced to live in agony because if I didn't figure it out for myself I never would have figured it out at all.
I am too fragile to withstand this but I'm going to do it anyway. It's not a bad thing, just something that was long overdue.
This is weird and cold and so uncomfortable and I was afraid. At the end of the day this is exactly how Cole always wanted me to feel. It's the type of thing he would do. A half-misguided, totally fucked up way to ensure that his little Bridget never wants for anything and the perfect way to keep his closest rival from ever having it all. He was a dangerous man and right now I'm glad he's dead.
All of it fucked up and doomed to fail. And I told this to all three of them and they stared at me expectantly. Like they were still stupidly waiting for me to accept or reject Cole's instructions for my future. Pressure keeping me from having a choice. My own twisted definition of love and how it works working against me for the first time ever. My own sick unspoken curiosities scaring the fuck out of my husband, who doesn't want this. He left the room, unable to breath, to keep from panicking, his fears rendering him incapacitated. I don't often see him like that. I never want to see it again.
I know running through his head right then was a litany of prayers to please please let me stay with him. Possessive and stubborn to a fault. Hopeful to no end. Selfish enough to not even consider how wrong this feels. Or how unacceptable it really is. He knows he couldn't fight this one with religion for backup, knowing Cole fucked me up that much.
That I would consider this because of what's in it FOR ME.
Standing there surrounded by the men I've loved almost my whole life I balled the letters up and threw them to the floor and turned my back on three of those men. Loch and Ben are as gone as Cole. Three strikes you're out, third times the charm.
As always, running a million miles an hour on shock and feeling without a plan.
Only I won't talk to them in my sleep.
Their hands. Why do I remember hands? Loch's hot hands on me, parked in a cornfield when he chose the hottest night of the summer to make me scream and never look back. Ben's icy hands curled around my knees the night we lost a tent in a snowstorm on our first group winter camping trip and we opted to sleep packed like sardines in the one remaining tent for warmth. Jacob's perfect hands, rough and larger than my head. Cole's beautiful soft artistic hands.
Jacob came back into the room, composed and resigned. To wait for the inevitable cue from me. He knows me well and didn't have to wait long. It's my life and no one, especially someone who's dead is going to decide how I'll live it. I looked at Jacob and whispered to him,
Fix it, please, Jake.
He shook his head sadly and waited and I stared at him for the longest time in total silence.
No, Bridget. You have to fix this.
I threw Loch and Ben out and told them not to come back. I said the time has come. I'm not going to stand by and let things happen, or let people close to me who aren't good for me or don't want what's best for me and if they want to think he's controlling, well, then I don't really fucking care anymore but from now on I come first and this sick game is over because Cole is dead and he doesn't run this show anymore. I do. I'm going to, from now on.
They left. I went down. Hard. I have now buried three of the people close to me and I'm running out of arms to run into.
I turned around and the biggest, most loving arms were wide open for me.
He held me all night. My last vestiges of comfort, my last memories of life before Jacob taken to the same place the ones with Cole now rest. Right there, but beyond my grasp. A place I can visit but I don't have to live there anymore.
I asked for and received some seriously illegal sedatives. I think we evaded what could have been much worse and things are so very quiet now. While I slept all traces of Lochlan and Benjamin were obliterated from this house. We explained to the kids that they wouldn't be around any more and we were truthful with them. God, that's what hurts the most because the boys had close relationships with Ruth and Henry, who have now lost three people and they're too young to have to deal with this but onward we go as a family.
It just adds to the load my heart must carry but I can handle this. It is with relief when I wake in the mornings. Not grief. I thought it would be grief but it isn't.
Jacob pulled another moment out of thin air to keep me from catching my breath as long as I live.
I asked him why he didn't just boot them out, cut them off, overrule me or somehow give up Cole's secret a year ago? Even as I also kept Cole's dirty little secrets to protect my friends, why shouldn't Jacob keep Cole's secrets to protect me?
He said that more important to him than us, is me. Simply me. And if I am happy, then he is happy and that is all that matters. That I come first, before his wishes and even before what he sees as good for me or not. That I'm not his to control but yes, he's going to do everything he can to protect me until the end of time. That we've made so many mistakes but we're going to learn together and decide together and be together and it's going to be healthy. For me.
He promised me I'll never be lonesome, I'll never want for anything, and I'll never be used or hurt ever again. And he said that he was even prouder of me now than he was when I jumped out of an airplane on our anniversary, because I'm learning how to step outside of my uncomfortable zone and take leaps of faith. It's just so fucking hard.
Tuesday, 21 August 2007
Monday, 20 August 2007
Asleep at the wheel.
I can't even tell you about it. Not today. Perhaps tomorrow. But I do have some lightbulbs coming on over here, just when everyone was ready to toss me aside for sitting in the dark all the time. Because the dark loves me so.
Just when you think that you're all right
I'm calling out from the inside
I never hurt anyone
I never listen at all
They were never good for me, really, I counted them as family. I tried to protect their friendship with Cole and I never let them see what kind of man he was because they were friends first, before I was part of the equation. And they promised me when I left him at last that I would be safe, that they would never let anything like that happen to me ever again. They stepped in admirably as big brothers, close friends, incestuous landmarks I have run around for years.
But they fought Jake every step of the way, suddenly concerned with my every move, with his temper, with my emotional state, with my mental state. With how I lived and who I loved, who I spent time with, decisions I had to make. I could tell them anything and they'd move heaven and earth to ensure my comfort and sometimes decisions were made on my behalf. For a time, I was spoiled rotten.
And I was the very last person to find out what was really going on.
They didn't have my best interests at heart and things weren't nearly as cut and dried as they told me it was. Behind my back they were plotting to wreck everything I fought for and they made Jacob crazy and no wonder he's been on edge so goddamned long and no wonder things have been so, so difficult.
In any event, it's done now. Because I have to get better, we have to move on and we can't do it this way.
They set out to ruin it all and I can't forgive this. I'll forgive so much your head might spin with the permissiveness with which I exist but it's over.
All of my relationships were born in a toxic hell, save for one.
And you know something?
It's not all that healthy either.
But at least we can give it a chance now.
Jacob can breathe now that he has everything. Protection orders, memories with deadlines, no more wars to wage except with my brain (which doesn't put up much of a fight, having been tranquilized into entropy) and a promise from me that I'll be here. Forever. It's like Christmas.
But what would I know? I just woke up two hours ago. After sleeping for twenty.
And it's a brand new day. Only it's really quiet and I really hope I'm making the right decisions here.
Just when you think that you're all right
I'm calling out from the inside
I never hurt anyone
I never listen at all
They were never good for me, really, I counted them as family. I tried to protect their friendship with Cole and I never let them see what kind of man he was because they were friends first, before I was part of the equation. And they promised me when I left him at last that I would be safe, that they would never let anything like that happen to me ever again. They stepped in admirably as big brothers, close friends, incestuous landmarks I have run around for years.
But they fought Jake every step of the way, suddenly concerned with my every move, with his temper, with my emotional state, with my mental state. With how I lived and who I loved, who I spent time with, decisions I had to make. I could tell them anything and they'd move heaven and earth to ensure my comfort and sometimes decisions were made on my behalf. For a time, I was spoiled rotten.
And I was the very last person to find out what was really going on.
They didn't have my best interests at heart and things weren't nearly as cut and dried as they told me it was. Behind my back they were plotting to wreck everything I fought for and they made Jacob crazy and no wonder he's been on edge so goddamned long and no wonder things have been so, so difficult.
In any event, it's done now. Because I have to get better, we have to move on and we can't do it this way.
They set out to ruin it all and I can't forgive this. I'll forgive so much your head might spin with the permissiveness with which I exist but it's over.
All of my relationships were born in a toxic hell, save for one.
And you know something?
It's not all that healthy either.
But at least we can give it a chance now.
Jacob can breathe now that he has everything. Protection orders, memories with deadlines, no more wars to wage except with my brain (which doesn't put up much of a fight, having been tranquilized into entropy) and a promise from me that I'll be here. Forever. It's like Christmas.
But what would I know? I just woke up two hours ago. After sleeping for twenty.
And it's a brand new day. Only it's really quiet and I really hope I'm making the right decisions here.
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