So this is the crux of the second marriage thing. I was sober in AA, had a job, coached Hannah's soccer team, dealt with Ry and his gaming addiction as a teenager in high school. It was a pretty normal life. I had waited 13 years between marriages to make sure I was doing the right thing. I had had a crush on Nan for over a decade and thought that we were friends first, lovers second and the natural thing I thought to do was to be married. I loved her, loved her daughter. Shit, I had a garden, compost pile, my first house I bought, doing all kinds of DIY to the house. I got along good with Ry despite our spill out over his gaming. I was doing life. I wasn't getting into head trips and I was minding my own business. I guess I thought I had arrived. In hindsight I guess it was all outside stuff I was focused on. And why wouldn't I? I don't know when the cancer started but it did. One cell started to turn and it convinced a few more of its buddies to hop on the train. The train to hell.
Nan was taking Hannah to a dance academy and scheduled it with jam jam exercise with jazz and élan jam workout. Pepper Von was the leader of the mostly women packed room. Apparently at one time he was doing his workout on ESPN before they got their shit together. I still think he sucks today so forgive my sullen manner. It was Pepper's dance studio, he owned it with a partner. Of course they would have the dance recitals and book a theatre somewhere in town for all the friends and parents to delight and squeal when they're kid took the stage. Pepper also had a foster daughter that he had taken in (I think) and she was Hannah's age and of course always around the gym. This is all background stuff here. But it's important because it set the stage for my life to suddenly go south on the marriage front. Life started taking a stroll towards the physical and weekly jazzercise and dance gig. That was the "big" event of the week. Of course it started being 2 times a week. I couldn't be bothered to attend the physical class but I didn't mind waiting there for Hannah to get out of class.
Nan, though, really got it into her head what a great guy Pepper was. At the gym, being a step parent, his contributions to the community, etc. I guess a long shot from what I did with my spare time. I started getting smaller at home. In her life. I felt it happening and anxiety started to rise unconsciously for the first time since I'd been with her in our several years. I wasn't sure what it was and why it was hovering. Little things started getting more attention and arguments suddenly stopped getting settled. A little fear was born in me and being a gardener naturally I focused and fertilized that fear into an all-out war in my head. I felt the old pangs of shame and guilt distinctly clamoring for me time. No, it isn’t going to be like this. Not again. Not with Nan, no she is the one. She had to be the one, I couldn’t keep making mistakes about love again. Especially one of this magnitude. I don’t remember all the plans I made in my head to be a better husband as it all turned into a miasma of sputtering chum. It didn’t matter what I did, it was over. How could I have not seen this coming? It felt like a wall of lava 50 feet high crashing over my head.
The fears born out my childhood that I was not good enough for love came screaming back with a volume I hadn’t heard since I was a drunk. I pleaded with Nan for us to see a counselor but she was hesitant and didn’t believe we needed someone outside of us helping fix the inside of us. I explained plainly that we just needed some new tools to communicate to each other, that the tools we were using were not working at all. She assented and told me to find one that would work with us so I started the search. When I found a family counselor, Nan wanted to me to go by myself and “scout” it out. Sure, I’ll do anything. So a funny thing happened when I went to see this counselor. She was convinced after talking to me for 45 minutes that I had ADHD. Ha ha I laughed, there’s no such thing. Not so. It’s real and yes she was convinced that I was blessed with it full on. So not the gift I was looking for and it didn’t go over very well with Nan either.
I was scheduled to see the psychiatrist on site the next week to confirm or deny the existence of this new passenger. I didn't even get to finish half the appointment and she had the prescription pad out writing up a script to help relieve me of my symptoms. A new weight landed on me. Something I had had no idea what it was was now suddenly another burden I had to deal with. Along with a crumbling marriage I have a mental illness? Does it get any harder to find love when you have a mental illness? Shit was seriously getting out of hand. Of course I had to discuss all of this to Nan and my bearing as the man in her life was shrinking further. Now she had concrete evidence of why she was so right in sticking with this direction. The hollowed, wizened, “It’s not fair” came pounding back into my reality with a delight and comfort. Like your worst enemy, dead for years, coming back to life, knocking on your door with a shit eating grin and no place to stay but his old friends house. This is the wound, the Fisher King wound that I received during that time that fallowed my kingdom. This is what killed the crops, diseased the children, killed off all of the young knights in battle. I was cut deep and the bleeding couldn’t be stopped. It just leaked, dribbled, poured and weakened me day by day with no hope for recovery. My brain belonged to my mom again. I was a child in the planet of adults. Coping skills being the first thing to leach out with the bleeding.
1. I'm grateful today that I'm sober and clean.
2. I'm grateful that I have found love in many different areas and in many different relationships.
3. I'm grateful today that I went to a meeting and surrounded myself with my people.
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