I have been thinking about this a lot. I made the mistake of clicking over to a Twitter account I have no business looking at anymore and reading, yet another dribbling version of this person need for everyone to know her “truth”. It made me think of this article I’d read some time ago about why science tells us not to believe eyewitnesses testimony. The reality of it is, we all see the “truth” different.
You see, you and I can watch the same thing and see two, totally different stories. It’s proven. And so while your truth is “your truth” and my truth is mine; that doesn’t actually make it the truth. It makes it what our memory sees. It’s bullshit. It’s a memory and we all have memories that are different than the next persons.
The past month has been a series of ups and downs. Somedays I have this peace seep into my soul that let’s me think for a few moments, everything is going to be okay and then, a something else washes over me, with this fear, that this person , relentless, selfish, insecure and mean, is never going to let anyone try and get back to a normal life. Instead, my life is going to be a series of hateful tweets, shitty, self-centered decisions and scary stalking motions that leave my teenage daughter fearful for her safety.
There are fewer of those days luckily and more days of peace. Days of walks and baseball and summer. There are mornings of watching the beautiful men in my life snuggle and hold each other close. There is that excitement of when our Daddy comes home. There is sharing memories that have been missing for the last couple years. It’s a pity I still let those shitty days, that hateful person, rent space in my head but I am incredibly grateful for those days that I get peace.
Erin, my therapist told me to find something that I love about all the things I “hate”. Whether it’s food, eggs for example, or whatever, or whoever. I hate them but I love how a good, fresh farm egg makes a cake taste. I find my mindfulness in the flavor those eggs give to my much-loved baking. I hate the smell of cigars but I am reminded of my dad who smokes them at card games and I love him and I love that he gets pleasure from some things, even if it’s cigars. And today, my love for this person I hate so much is that they gave me pieces of my life back. Ones that I have been missing forever. Love notes and handholding. The courage to put on my wedding rings again. I love that, despite the months of torture, I found my voice again. That I have found a love for working out and caring for my body, my temple. That I have made it a priority to make it to the gym, to the therapist, to eat better, to take my medicine. And while I truly, deeply and profoundly hate this person, I love that I got some of my life back because of their selfish, hateful and evil-driven actions. And because they’re so awful, I know I am not. Because I have truly seen what an evil, unstable person can do.
I’ll be honest here. I am tired of being silent. I have sat by and watched this person shit on my life. I don’t know that it is all about me, or my family but I am sure some of it is. I can guess what. I have 400+ screenshots of hateful. I have hours with the Royersford Police and many miles to the courthouse and avoid going to certain stores as to avoid this nasty person. But I am done with silence and I will write what I want. And I will say how awful and selfish I feel this person is. How a normal person would have stopped with the bullshit months ago. But instead, makes it a point to make fun of or hurt people they “supposedly” love. What a joke. When you love someone, even when they “scorned” you, you don’t dig daggers into their back. The people you love, you care for. Even when they hurt you. You make sure, even though they’ve imploded your world, that they have a coat when it is cold and food in their bellies. You don’t burn their fucking house down. That’s what SELFISH people do.
The truth works two ways. Mine and yours. Stop with it now. Move on. It’s time. Stop trying to hurt us. Stop hurting yourself. It’s time to move on.