Ha! I had a blogging moment last night, wrote a post and it disappeared, the only evidence it ever existed (and I am not going crazy, thinking I had written one, but hadn’t) was the title. I gave up!
Just a meandering post about triggers, mental imagery and how even after five years, two months and two days, and a separate life from TOIL, I still get them. In fact, it might be more relevant to talk about the times I don’t, as I really have had little (no) respite from any of the mental film-festival-of-fucked-up in all this time.
Yesterday’s was a moment that I realised was probably delayed from the few days at the lake. I don’t freak out about sleeping in that bed anymore, but it still goes through my mind, what they did there. I mean, it is pretty sick. I took her there alone, without him, I don’t know why she came? I don’t think it was cover for the affair, as she wanted to uncover it, not keep his secret. I wonder if she was scoping me out, trying to find my underbelly, where she could put the knife in most successfully? I
wonder if know that she is a cheapskate, so I guess it was just free holidays. I mean, I get why she came when HE was there, but why would you come and holiday with just me and the kids???
So, the times that we were all there together, I just feel so stupid, and actually really sick about. I mean, he says they never touched while I was there, but I call bullshit. I can imagine that when I was out of the house, that they walked past each other, dragging their fingers over each others’ arses, maybe pants, feeling out the “goods.” This MUST have happened, I mean how can you stay with someone for a week, that you are besotted by, and not cop a feel? Maybe sneaked a quick kiss. He has always denied this. I remember one time we were there and he refused morning sex with me! I mean, in 21 years, he had never refused sex, let alone use-that-morning-hardness sex. He told me it was because our friend (cackling like a hyena here) was in the next room, and the “soundproofing is not so great down here.” I grinned at him with “let’s just do it in silence then, that can be hot!” He wouldn’t. Turns out he had promised her that he wouldn’t fuck me while we were all under the same roof. (Ha, we did, take that bitch, not then, but we did it that night!) I mean, WTF???
I was driving home from uni last night, and felt that hotness, that battle to keep tears at bay, as I remembered (and when I remember, I SEE it in 3D, full Technicolor) how they fucked in our son’s bed. I was at work, and she gleefully drove down. When she arrived, I could see TOIL smile, and grab her hand, as they bounded up the stairs, for him to eat her out on our boy’s bed, then fuck hard. All the while, I was at work, earning for our family, stressed about the kids, and how I was going to get to pick them all up that night and shop, and get dinner, and…… All he was doing was fucking in our son’s bed. So disgusting.
I have a theory. Not a particularly original one. But I believe I have put up with a lot of crap from a lot of people I should have ejected from my life over the years, but as a pleaser, I have instead, “played nice,” forgiven and carried on. This time, I believe all of this pain, and the replayed stories are my psyche’s way of protecting me. I know whenever I think of my friend J, I remember one of the times she wan’t there for me, couldn’t empathise with what I am going through, like the time I was facing nass-tee treatment for cervical cancer, caused by the HPV they infected me with, and she said, very flippantly, “oh, just have an hysterectomy, you’ve finished your family.” I think I do the same constantly about TOIL. I know he is not the guy he was then, but I refuse to let him anywhere near me again, and use the replays of the shit he did to keep me on track in keeping him away.
Not useful at all.
Hey psyche, I get it!