On March 3rd, it happened. My spouse left me for good. I was abandoned. Alone. I will spare the details of that traumatic day in an attempt to avoid spiraling down the vortex of misery that highlighted our marriage. Alas, I shall share some tidbits of that failed experiment. Since her departure I've been sitting with desire daily. Longing and wanting. Wanting to be touched. Wanting to experience. Sexually frustrated - we had a sexless marriage. As a highly sensual person I felt as though I was in a sensory deprived gulag - kept in a torture chamber mentally and physically in a space filled with emotional pain and neglect. Self survival mode strategies prevented even the simplest tasks be taken care of. After the removal of a lipoma from my injured arm (3 years of numbing sharp pain) - the physical pain subsided; however, it unveiled the reality - that I was being deceived not only by my spouse but also her family. I was never a part of the "family" - just tolerated. There were no photos taken of us together by her family. No photos of us in their home. Workholism, careerism and being somebody marked by papered degrees littered their landscape. Control and gossip highlighted their conversations. Little did I know I would fall victim and be taken advantage of. Lies. Deception. Financial abuse. And now ultimately, limbo, stasis and non-action - just like our "marriage." However, I survived. Am I grateful that I do not have to live the rest of my life with the feeling that I left my spouse with nothing: no insurance, no job, no family - absolutely zilch. She will. It is amazing what another person can bring out of you - the worst or the best - physical ailments or somatic glee. Mine were the former. I was always sick. The neglect heightened my isolation. Conversations and discussions meant to be had between us were had with therapists, friends and family members. I was the prey of a mindfucker. A mindfuck of stasis. Of indifference. Of total neglect. Of deception. Of lies. Zero reciprocity. Neglect brought about sexual frustration. The longing and need to be touched. I coped by exercising despite the lipoma - yoga, meditation and dancing. The root of sexual frustration lies with the desire for human interaction. I feel like I exist when others speak to me - something my spouse could not even bare to do - tethered to her phone, laptop, Netflx or a book. I could count on two hands how many times we had sex in our going on four years of marriage. Yet she would demand sex from me; however, she would not be intimate with me despite my bodysculpting, dancing and cooking for her, attending to the house - playing maid. I suspect she was seeing someone else. It is no surprise that she left after I had inquired if she indeed was. Yet I am the one to blame. The queer one. The one who dances. The one who is a good dancer who's cousin-in law spied upon at the club. Cowardly bullshit. Christian judgement as a shield to deflect neglect from somebody who thought nobody would ever marry her. Now I know why. Post abandonment, I filed hastily for MediCal coverage and soon found that I was covered under her plan- more deception and lies that her new found county job was a "temp" position with no benefits. Hence why she never applied for Covered California while we were still together. She planned her way out. Took 15k from our joint account that she never wanted - money that was awarded to me - not her - for my settlement. Changed her address - it came to the house. I foolishly believed it was merely a PO Box change. Lies upon lies. So infidelity probably which a much older man - her past relationships prove this and was and is most likely her way out. Constant talking about her coworkers and their lives, networking parties, Quaker meetings, etc., highlight how she was scanning for a potential escape plan through finding a more desirable partner. All these "survival mode" strategies characterize an unethical therapist with narcissistic tendencies. In the end I'm left alone. I'm handling it quite well despite receiving another layer of trauma I did not ask for. I am coping with disappointment, resentment, betrayal and ultimately desire. Working in Napa for seven weeks provided a brief escape from the urban malaise that is Oakland. I connected with nature, cut the cord of our toxic relationship, became in tune with my surroundings and had enlightening conversations with my coworkers. While in Napa I walked 10 miles a day up and downhills with heavy loads, executed yoga bends, used hand grips, stretchbands and weight trained. Since my spouse left, I have lost my love handles thanks for a freezer not full of ice cream. I have a steady non-junk food, mostly sugar free diet, cooking foods from scratch - mostly high protein dense dishes for fuel. My insomnia has gone. Opportunities abound in the present - thanks to voracious reading and clearing the apartment of reminders and other ephemera of our failed marriage. Reading Creative Visualization played a pivotal role in reframing my mind. I've become more kind and gentler to myself. I no-longer have the impulse to renew my medical marijuana card. I ceased smoking. I haven't fallen off the wagon - still sober from alcohol. There is no need. I'm not coping with a neglectful spouse I can't connect with. I am grateful for the online PTSD community, Instagram followers, and friends that live afar that I have connected with online. The mere checking in with me speaks volumes. One - who is clairvoyant expressed that something is dying in my life - she was right. It was my marriage. Shedding that skin has been painful but also rewarding. I know who I am. I know my journey. I know I have survived and appreciate the support from people also afflicted with this disease. I am now about to take up a job in San Francisco which involves physical work and bicycles - my love. I am also pursuing establishing a PTSD national group with a colleague that also focuses on bicycles. Logos are being drafted and cyber spaces being claimed. Patience is important and I will maintain and push forward. My zeal for writing has rebounded - coauthoring a piece for AmerAsia Journal's forthcoming issue on mental health. I'm not looking for acceptance - just validation. For I and others afflicted with (C)PTSD deserve to be heard - not isolated, ignored or avoided. It is my hope that together and alone, we can support each other through this illness - in real life and online.
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AuthorDarren Brown, PhD. ArchivesCategories |