You don’t want to be inside this head right now. It is a dark, dark place, full of bad memories that won’t go away. They come at me, out of nowhere. Flashbacks that I can’t control and that I don’t want. Is there a hidden message in them? Am I supposed to be learning something?

~

The trip to Disneyland was a nightmare from the very beginning. She tried to lock me out of the car before we even left the driveway. Not that it would’ve done her any good. I was the one with the money, the credit cards, and the hotel reservation. I knew from that point on that nothing was ever going to be easy. She had multiple tantrums and breakdowns on the trip. Tried to leave me and one of her kids there, saying we could take a train back home. She admitted later she was a bitch and lost it. Too late. Damage had been done.

~

I remembered that trip as I was making my weekly commute to the office. I felt my pulse start to race as I thought about everything that happened. One of the many annoying issues with these memories is that they can be triggered by anything. I had to shake my head several times and turn up the music so I could calm down.

~

“I don’t understand why you buy this or cook it when none of us like it. The kids told you they didn’t want it!”

“Actually, everyone liked it last time I made it. They’re only saying that now because you’re pissed off and saying that you don’t like it and don’t want any. They do this all the time. You’re just too blind to see it.”

“Are you calling my kids liars?! Fuck you. You don’t know how the fuck to be a parent. Get out!”

~

You’d be surprised to hear how often exchanges like that took place. It was at least once a month. Sometimes it was once a week. There were times when I did leave. I packed a few bags and left the house. I knew it would blow over, but that I’d have to leave for a few hours. I also knew that I could go to my ex-husband at any point if I needed a place to stay. There were several times when I started driving in that direction when she called me and told me to come back home. He got remarried yesterday. I’m happy for him. At least one of us has found another partner who also wants to be with us.

~

“Why can’t you just let things be? Why do you always have to push so much for an answer to things? I don’t know what I want!”

~

I think every fight ended like that. Or close to it. Those words ring loud in my ears right now. I hate to admit that she was ever right about anything, but she was. I do push for answers. I push to know where I stand. I push to know what other people want. I’m not a mind reader. If you don’t tell me what you’re thinking or feeling, how can I know what to do so that you’ll love me or accept me? That’s what it comes down to for me. I just want to be loved and accepted by someone who I love. Haven’t had much luck there.

~

“Where are you?”

“I’m still at the store. Should be done soon.”

“Why is it taking so long?”

“There are a lot of people shopping right now and there’s a lot on the list. I should be in the checkout line in about 10 minutes.”

“Try to hurry up. We’re all hungry.”

~

Grocery shopping was an escape for me. It was an hour or so where I didn’t have to deal with any of them. The problem was that I was also in a hurry because I knew I’d be getting a call or a text after a certain amount of time. And if I didn’t answer the phone when it rang or return the text right away, then I’d be accused of not being where I said I was or that I was ignoring the phone. Letting her do the shopping wasn’t any less stressful. She’d just come home bitching about how she had to go to the store when she had homework to do, blah blah blah. It was a no-win situation. Grocery shopping shouldn’t cause anxiety attacks. When I was done with THAT, I’d have to make breakfast or lunch because none of them would get up off their own lazy asses and eat otherwise. If I didn’t, well, then I’d be accused of being anorexic and not caring if anyone else ate because I didn’t want to eat. Not true. I just didn’t understand why nobody else was capable of getting their own fucking food. I was too anxious to eat most days. When I go now, I have to remind myself that I’m not on a deadline. The only one waiting for me is the dog and she isn’t going to yell at me if I’m a little late.

~

“You’re ugly and look like a child. Why would anyone want to be with you? At least I’m attractive. You’ll be sorry if we ever break up. I’ll find someone and you’ll be alone. Who would want to be with you?”

~

I never actually believed any of that, but the words hurt just the same. Still. I find myself wondering if anyone will ever love me enough to want to be with me. So far, I’ve never been enough for anyone to get past either their own issues or my issues. We’re all flawed. I’m no more fucked up than the next person. I’m not asking for much. Someone to keep me company, comfort me, make me laugh, treat me with respect. It sounds so simple, but it is seemingly so hard to find. I’m tired of the loneliness.

~

“Shortly after you guys split up, he told me he would’ve stayed married, even if it meant you two just living as roommates.”

That’s what my sister told me once about a conversation she had with my ex-husband. Those words still sting. If I had known it at the time, I might’ve gone back. It wouldn’t have been ideal for either of us, but it would’ve been better than the hell I was living in at the time. Then again, that wasn’t fair to him. Or me. We both deserved better. He’s found it. I’m still hoping for it.

~

“I don’t call you as often because when I get off the phone, I’m always depressed.”

~

A friend said that to me one day when we were driving back from lunch. I was home from college on a break and we were taking some time to hang out. I’ll never forget the words or how I felt. It was like I had been punched in the gut. I started to guard my words and moods around people after that. I didn’t’ want to be Debbie Downer, so I stopped telling people how I really felt. I put on the brave face and pretended to be happy when I was really miserable and lost and confused and needing support. It went on for years until the top just finally blew. I still think about it though. When I have to vent after a bad day, I’m afraid people are going to say “Oh, there goes Erin again on another rant. She just never seems to be happy.” If you can’t take my bad with my good, do I really want you around? That’s what I have to ask myself.

~

“Stop blaming the world for your problems. Nobody is out to get you and the things that go wrong can’t be blamed on anyone else.”

~

Words spoken by another friend one day as we stopped at Taco Bell for dinner. I admit, I was having a particularly bad year. But she was right. The world wasn’t to blame. I got my own bad grades. I wasn’t in control of the behavior of people who hurt me. The only thing I could control was myself. My actions. My reactions. As often as I might still slip and get pissed at the world, those words always come into my head. I’m trying to remember them now as I struggle with what is ahead of me. I’m exhausted and feeling defeated by life. I question whether or not I will ever know love or happiness again. It all makes me want to curl up in a corner and shut the world out. That’s why the flashbacks are coming so often. That’s why I can’t escape them. They are pushing me to face life and live it.

~

I suppose I should be thankful that I’ve had friends who were willing to kick me in the ass when I needed it. They pushed me to deal with things I didn’t want to see or deal with because they cared. They didn’t want to see my wasting my life on bitterness and anger. They wanted to see me living life as fully as I could. Maybe that’s why I push those I love. I wasted so many years wallowing in my own pity that I lost out on living life. I don’t want to see anyone I love doing the same thing. I don’t want someone with so much potential throwing everything away when they have a chance at love and happiness available to them. But they have to come to it in their own way and their own time. The best I can do is say what needs to be said and be there to offer support and love as they make their own journey. They have their own memories and flashbacks to face. I can’t do it for them. But I can be there to hold their hand.