Here it is. My attempt at getting rid of the poison that has infused my life for the past few years. I know I will never rid myself of the pain and the feelings of self loathing and idiocy that I have (wrongly, I know) had since my darling boy decided that I was strong enough to cope with his crisis. A crisis which manifested as fucking my childhood “friend” – his ex – who ingrained herself into our lives for over a year – and it then took us nearly three years to exorcise her from our lives, at least physically. What they did to me is still the wallpaper of my mind, a constant source of agony to me.
Of course, he didn’t “decide” anything. He just went and pleased himself, we didn’t matter anymore, our three kids and myself. We were not worth taking ten seconds to think about. He “decided” that all I had sacrificed for him was worth nothing. I was not worth thinking about. My input over those decades – and it was a whole lot! – was written off in those seconds before he climbed into (our daughter’s!) bed with this non-person that I was so kind to. It was just him. Just his little boy ego. Just his sense of entitlement because he didn’t know how to talk to me when he got lost. Just his way or the highway. And I pay the toll. Every day.