Sometimes Good Things Make It Hurt More

Had some local friends over, as well as some friends whom drove for some 5 hours to come hang out and help out around the house. Overall it was a great time. Good food, good friends, good drinks. Much of the conversation was oriented around the situation unfolding in my life, with quite a bit of it discussing past episodes of similar behavior from my spouse, as well as other behavior. One of the guests had been friends with both my spouse and myself for multiple decades and they gave their point of view on many of the events going on, as well as insites into past behavior that was similar. A lot of it was just a form of social talk-therapy, for myself and I suspct for my friends. As one of them put it.

I have known both of these people for over 2 decades, and one of them is acting in ways that are alien to the person I have known, while the other is still the same person I have always known, it is a difficult thing to reconcile…

Ultimately, there isn’t really a whole lot I can do around the house in so far as boxing things up, or getting ready to move, or anything really. There is no real telling what items will stay with me and what items will go to my spouse. The only thing I can do around the house right now is clean and try to fix up all the little nail holes and paint and scrapes and all of it that come with living in a rental.

By the end of the weekend one group of friends had paid for a rather large supply of groceries and pizza, and the other group had spent the better part of their time here patching/paining one of the bedrooms. We also fixed up the leaking faucets in the bathroom, the leaking faucet at the back of the house outside, and we re-calked around the tub.

It was an amazing feeling really. A lot of good energy, good people, good times. Getting something, anything, done around the house and helping to remove that feeling like I am sitting in limbo.

And then this morning one of my friends sends me a message and tells me a package has arrived for me on the front door step, a late birthday gift. I go outside to find a new electric guitar.. I had made several comments over the weekend, and the week I guess, about wanting to go down to the music shop and pick up a used guitar; assumin I could figure out a way to find enough money in my budget to afford it. To give myself something to do, something to focus on, and my friend decided to beat me to the punch.

I proceeded to sit down and bawl for 20 minutes (or more .. I am back to bawling as I try to write this), the kindness and humanity I had been gifted with, over the weekend, online from everyone whom has messaged me, and then this; it simply overwelmed me. It also tghrew into stark contrast how I am being treated by everyone else whom my spouse has tried to turn against me.

All the joy of my friends, and all the pain since 02/10 simply co-existing; it was just all too much. At some point I heard my cries echoing off the naked walls and I started laughing while bawling harder.

Joy is in the ears that hear, not in the mouth that speaks. The world has few stories glad in themselves, and we must have gay ears to defy Despite

I had thought I was sort of passed this stage .. I guess not.

Update: The tears won’t stop. I think they are done, my body tries to relax, my stomach sore from the sobbing, but it is only ever a small respite. I laid down and cried. I awoke and cried some more, only to awake and cry again, and again. It keeps repeating. I seem to be crying myself to sleep only to wake up and start it all over. It all just hurts so much, I just need it to stop. Made an appointment with a therapist, but it is for tomorrow, the earliest I could get in, and it feels like an eternity away. My stomach hurts so much from the sobbing and I half feel like I will be sick at any minute. Eventually the tears stop and everything has a surreal sense of finality, only to wake and start again… Please, I just need this to end.