MouseWedger
Gold Member
I know what I want to say, but the words aren't coming so well. FOrgive me if this makes little sense. I feel so disjointed. So ... fragmented.
My husband and I have been doing our best, as have my in-laws, to clean up after last weeks flooding. I think we've done well. I think I've done well, personally, with his drinking and with the damage that has been done from the rain. I think I've kept myself together relatively well. I think. I hope.
We had a fight, about the drinking. He says its his "release" when things get tough, and I've been hard to be around because I'm not myself, he says I've been too depressed and it's hard for him to see me this way. I lost control.
I started crying hysterically, sobbing, stuttering incoherently, partly. I said, well yeah, Im depressed. I just lost eleven years worth of possessions, the other twelve years worth of memories and things the Devil Lady won't give me. I have nothing left except a few odds and ends. Yeah, it's just things. But the devastation reminds me of what she has, what she can keep from me. Told him all of a sudden I'm five again, standing in her front yard, watching her burn my things. Crying for her to stop. Her laughing, telling me I don't need them, they're just things after all. Tossing toys, stuffed animals, a rocking horse. An antique convertable potty chair to a high chair that I used to use when I was even younger and couldn't reach the table. All burning before my eyes. I can do nothing. I tell him it's like that all over again, but with water this time. Again, I can do nothing. Nothing. I am helpless as I watch my things being taken from me, destroyed. That again, Im five, living somewhere I don't want to be living, hours away from my Dad and his home. My home. Away from where I really want to be. Im still crying. I can't make it stop. I can't make five year old me disappear. She won't leave me alone. Her tears are too big. Her wailing too loud.
I want this water to be gone, I want to put my life back together and get what remains of my things dried back out again. Maybe I'll be myself then. Maybe.
My husband and I have been doing our best, as have my in-laws, to clean up after last weeks flooding. I think we've done well. I think I've done well, personally, with his drinking and with the damage that has been done from the rain. I think I've kept myself together relatively well. I think. I hope.
We had a fight, about the drinking. He says its his "release" when things get tough, and I've been hard to be around because I'm not myself, he says I've been too depressed and it's hard for him to see me this way. I lost control.
I started crying hysterically, sobbing, stuttering incoherently, partly. I said, well yeah, Im depressed. I just lost eleven years worth of possessions, the other twelve years worth of memories and things the Devil Lady won't give me. I have nothing left except a few odds and ends. Yeah, it's just things. But the devastation reminds me of what she has, what she can keep from me. Told him all of a sudden I'm five again, standing in her front yard, watching her burn my things. Crying for her to stop. Her laughing, telling me I don't need them, they're just things after all. Tossing toys, stuffed animals, a rocking horse. An antique convertable potty chair to a high chair that I used to use when I was even younger and couldn't reach the table. All burning before my eyes. I can do nothing. I tell him it's like that all over again, but with water this time. Again, I can do nothing. Nothing. I am helpless as I watch my things being taken from me, destroyed. That again, Im five, living somewhere I don't want to be living, hours away from my Dad and his home. My home. Away from where I really want to be. Im still crying. I can't make it stop. I can't make five year old me disappear. She won't leave me alone. Her tears are too big. Her wailing too loud.
I want this water to be gone, I want to put my life back together and get what remains of my things dried back out again. Maybe I'll be myself then. Maybe.