Real life continues to be chaotic right now. It’s not settled, and I’m not up to blogging about it (also, I don’t have a home Internet connection at the moment). So for now, I will continue posting entries from my mental hospital journal. There’s a narrative in here somewhere.
As I’ve said before, the plan for Robin and me was to move to a new house together, as roommates and co-parents, at least on a short-term basis. But after my night on the overpass, that all began to unravel …
Robin, I could not get ahold of you tonight. I hope you are not avoiding me. You were very loving in the hospital, but I am so, so afraid that you’re planning to leave behind my back. And why not? You have a three day window and my forced institutionalization working for you.
But I have to believe you are sincere. This paranoia — the nurse practitioner here, Hollie, calls it an “abandonment issue” — needs to be overcome. When you’re still there when I get out, maybe I will finally be able to let it go.
My wedding ring is a part of me. I do not know how I will ever stop wearing it. #divorcesucks
Finally got ahold of Robin last night. Usual supportive platitudes, but also brought up the need to begin honestly separating our lives. Not the smartest thing to say to a depressed mental patient, with spouse abandonment issues, but whatever.
In short, this breakdown of mine is a fine time to announce the break-up, apparently. It’s hard to hide an enforced stay in a mental institution! She wants to begin making it an open secret that we are separating. Probably so she can begin posting pictures of her new boyfriend on Facebook. But she says it’s to help me see the break-up as real.
Fact: I will not move out of the house where my kids live. Not unless I am forced to in some way. If that means sleeping on the couch, then so be it.
I must also try to keep my anger and resentment against her down. I love her to this day, and though she is pushing me away, I refuse to be pushed too far. We will have a relationship moving forward, even as friends. I refuse to believe I could ever resent or hate her.
I love you, Robin. I wish I had not crushed the love you feel for me in return.
Robin accused me of seeing her through rose-colored glasses. And that’s true. I do. I know she is a flawed human being — this whole dating step has been one huge, selfish flaw — but she’s the only woman I’ve known like this, and she knows my preferences and my flaws, and she still loves me, even if not in that way.
And I know that, in my anger and anxiety, I sometimes hurt her, treated her like dirt, and I will regret that for the rest of my life. And I hate myself for those years. I love her. I love her. I love her, and I don’t know how to go on without her.
Yes, I wrote hashtags in my journal. Force of habit. If these “Notes” posts are getting tiresome, let me know. In the meantime, I’m going to keep sifting through the noise, looking for the narrative.