The Underground Woman

Out of Spite
2021-07-21 23:19:52 (UTC)

Beyond the Threshold

Crying is an all-or-nothing feat, at least from what I've experienced. I've noticed this means that I'm not overly sensitive to emotional situations, often to the point of apathy, but it does mean that emotions of anger or sadness bubble up over time, overflowing from the tiniest of situations. Physically, the ache feels like heartbreak–mourning what is, was, or could be.

Case in point, most recently, last Saturday, I started absolutely bawling after watching someone calmly repeating, "You will be okay", in the most positively affirming tone for a total of 20-seconds on repeat for 10 minutes. But, it always feels like nothing will be okay, not my relationships, my family, not my own mental health. This fallacy feels like it's taking over my life. Cries like these–coupled with the fallacy that nothing will be okay–make me feel impulsive, and I can feel myself wanting to make rash decisions. In fact, I believe I've just made one.

Today, after dropping my daughter off at school and cleaning the kitchen, M laid with me in bed, wanting to hold me, but I couldn't stand him touching me. A feeling of emptiness swept over me, and I couldn't bear the thought of feeling stuck in a relationship any longer. Internalized heartbreak. The ache returned, so I talked to M about separating for the third time in our five years together.

Going as well as the other times we've had this conversation, it started off with his eyes closed and keeping silent, twisting and turning beside me almost as if he wanted to sleep the conversation away. I guessed that he did not want to look at me. He also didn't want to tell me the emotions he was feeling or what he was thinking: 'I'm hungry' or 'I'm tired, that's how I'm feeling'. It took a while before we had a flowing conversation about the reasons why I've decided to leave him, trying my best to explain how great of a person he is and how he's a loving father but that he and I, ultimately, aren't good for each other anymore.

I tried to explain how I hate what I've become around him, turning into my father with his genetic rage coming out of my mouth. I tried to explain how toxic it is and how we are better off figuring out what we need in our own lives, individually and separate from each other. Not soon after though, as with the other two times, he threatened to quit his job, become homeless, live in his car, and shower at the park whenever he needed to. Feeling both angry and disappointed in the predictability of his behavior, I also felt disbelief and pity that he hasn't changed his mentality in all this time. What really upset me is that he won't even consider changing for his own daughter who loves him very much.

He won't go to school for her because we won't be together. He won't strive for anything other than homeless because we won't be together. He won't even consider shared custody because we won't be together, and he claims that I am keeping her from him which is farthest from the truth: the only way he'll see her is if we are together. It breaks my heart knowing he won't do better for her but to keep me with him. He explained that if I could just go to a doctor and fix the way I think then I'd be happy; we could be happy together so long as I go to a shrink.

At this point, he left for the park. He, an almost thirty-year-old man, ran away like some teenager throwing a tantrum. I spent an hour looking for him at three different parks, calling his friends to reach out to him so we could find him, and every time I heard sirens from an ambulance or firetruck, I feared he might have done something awful like he has threatened to do before. I even followed one, praying to find some fender-bender instead of him potentially dead. Thank goodness, that's exactly what it was: a fender-bender. Sighing in relief, I decided it was late, and I went to go pick up my daughter from daycare. M would show up sooner or later, I guessed.

When I picked up my daughter from her classroom, she was mad at me, and she wouldn't say why. How ironic, I thought. She doesn't even know what's going on and she won't talk to me. Yes, I am splitting this family up, and for what? I started to doubt myself, and for the entire ride home I felt paranoid. Then, I began to think of M and how he was acting.

He was manipulating me. Again. Throwing me different tantrums, seeing when I'd fold and give into him again. Not this time, I thought. He's threatening me with homelessness, suicide, and never willingly seeing his daughter again unless I stay with him. He's making me worry for him in desperation, and I would not. I will not fold. This needs to happen for the betterment of us all.

When I got home with my daughter, his car was in the driveway, and I ran in still worried. He was sitting by the kitchen table crying. Our daughter was playing with her toys and eating her dinner while I tried to talk to him again. As he had done the other times as well, he started to hit his head with his fists, and I had to stand by him, holding them down. He also started to gag. I figured he would run to the toilet to hit his head against the toilet lid again like he had done the second time, but he did not. He did as he did the first time and went to the bedroom to hit his head against the wall. I followed him, and firmly explained to him that I would not have him acting this way around my daughter and that he better grow up and quit the tantrums. He agreed but laid in bed, sobbing. He said I didn't support him enough, but I told him that if he wanted to go to school then I would help him do it. I would take him to the community college and help him. I asked him what else we could do, our next steps, and he said he wanted to get married. After all this? Marriage? No, never.

What comes next is unknown. Do I leave this house my daughter calls home? Do I take everything I own and put it in a storage facility?

My mother-in-law thinks I'm being hormonal and that we need to find something in common.

How will we share custody if he doesn't want to see her when we separate? How long will I live with my parents? Will I move into an apartment? Will I start looking for a house? What will I do now that I have ruined everything functional in my life?

The school year is about to start soon, and I'm feeling overwhelmed.
__________

Update:
Before 8 PM, my grandmother died. Crying is indeed an all-or-nothing feat, and now I can't stop.




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