It is HARD rebuilding a fractured life.
Marriage; Male role.
Marriage; Female role.
Both of us came into this marriage with shattered trusts, and broken hearts; Holland feels his a little deeper because even though he has been on his own since he was 14 years old … he has never actually been on his own; no matter what he was doing or going through, he always had the cushion of Family to fall back on. He lived with & worked with his uncles, his brothers, his BIL's; occasionally shared rent with sisters and BIL's; rented homes and apartments owned by aunts. Even when he did have jobs, homes and apartments away from the family hub - they were only a few miles, or a phone call away. He has never truly been on his own.
I never had any of that: I was literally on my own from Day #1. Yes, I lived in my mother's house until I married at 17 … but my mother was an absent mother - if she wasn't working out-of-house, she was mentally checking out while in-house. Again, while married to Bob, I was essentially alone most of the time: when he wasn't working, he spent most of his weekend and holiday time connecting in person, with his family & friends (in this regard, Holland is a lot like Bob). The church I attended accepted my tithe - but ignored me the rest of the time because I had married a divorced man. I had a lot of time alone; there was never, at any time, a hot house environment for me to relax in. I was always left to fend for myself in any, and all, situations. I learned to become a wild-flower survivor. When Bob's physical body died in the winter of 2018, I was 100% on my own - totally dependent on Elohim's benevolence in every single area of my New Life: without Him being the one stabilizing factor in my life since I turned my life over to Him at age 8, I'm certain I would not have had the desire to carry myself forward.
In both marriages, my men have tried to mold me into something I am not. I was up front with both of them that I am damaged goods, with a serious case of PTSD - I need peace and stability in my life. It sometimes seems like an ironic Devine joke I don't {get}, that Elohim has paired me up twice with men who are apparently damaged goods too, that cannot cut the apron strings. Their mother's coddled them (they were raised as little lord's & not prepared for life's harsh realities), and their first wives shattered them (reality bit hard); immature people on all sides trying to breathe life into immature relationships. The men raised as little lords could not - or stubbornly would not - give their wives what they wanted. Their mothers, siblings, and friends already held claim to that.
Wife is to BE 'top dog'.
Women eventually reach the numb zone.
PTSD is always in action; with everyone.
This marriage, due to the nature and the addictive co-dependency tendencies of his family and friend nucleus, requires Holland to be on his own: I don't want alcoholism and narcotics in my life, I don't want pushy interferences and dominating people in our life, together. It seems like every day has an argument in it which stems from the addictive co-dependency tendencies of his family and friend nucleus; he needs to break loose from these damaging relationships to enjoy our relationship as it should be enjoyed.
A stable marriage depends on a stable Team work.
And he is doing that. In small steps. He hasn't swallowed a drop or alcohol, or a Vicodin tablet in weeks. Visits to family members, and friends in Kelso had drastically slowed down; and he is grudgingly allowing the winnowing of bad company from his life: "Don't you have any decent people in your life - people that are not focused on destroying their lives with drugs … or people who are always trying to run your life, and run me out if it? Seriously? These people are not your friends if they don't want a good life for you; if they aren't in your corner, cheering for your success, why are you hanging onto them?"
Hard promises on the long road of marital life.
Love, to Holland's mindset, is a battlefield.
I was thrown to the wolves early on: there was no parental coddling, and reality's hard bite was a childhood staple. I was born in the coldest month of the year … and I've felt the chill, all of my life.
But even with December's frosty fingers chasing me, August which is the warmest month of the year, is a hard month for me to get through: there are so many memories connected to every day of August that derail me. I try to avoid people interactions until the tempests if August pass.
Derailment for Holland happens all year long; and it doesn't matter what State we are in when it happens: because he has lived with mother and siblings in every state we've been to since we married, the memory-jarring heart-felt derailments come screaming around the blind corner of life at unexpected and unforeseen moments – it slams into his life (and our Life) before he even recognizes he's been torpedoed by memories that still live there.
Memories find both of us catapulted backward in time - the memories are bittersweet, and getting through the days are hard.
Love, to my frame of mind, is a long road filled with hard promises.
But living on borrowed time as I am, I really do not want to be stumbling down a shaded rock strewn goat trail.
To keep love alive, one has to be in love with their life - every second of it: it's the only way wildflower love grows, and thrives ;-)
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - 'Love Is A long Road': (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOpuB5aSVF4)
No comments:
Post a Comment