As some of my few readers have noticed… I have not been around for a while. Priorities being what they are Disavowed With Honor has taken a back seat for a while. I have been emotionally exhausted. I have been physically the same. I have had the rug pulled out from under me and, fortunately, the veil has fallen from my eyes in the process. That doesn’t make anything any better. I am surviving and I can’t claim more than that right now.
NOTE BEFORE READING FURTHER: At no point in my circumstance has any kind of stupidity taken place. No disturbing thoughts. No consideration that would damn my eternal soul. No issue that would begin a criminal complaint process. That said… are you a little curious? If so, read on.
My father passed away on May 13, 2007, due to what I know in my heart was medical malpractice. Ultimately I was the only one who was legally capable of making decisions like discontinuing life support. My father and I worked very hard to become friends. It took most of my adult life to accomplish that. He left this Earth just when it was becoming interesting. I was robbed of any opportunity to watch our newly formed friendship grow. Though my last words to my father when he was alive were, “I love you” I was robbed of many more chances to say that in the future. I would never again be able to hear him reply, “I love you too, son” like he did that final day. Then came the next two or three weeks of taking care of the business of death and dying. I had the amazing support of family and friends, but I was still on my own ultimately. I don’t remember much about that period of time. I was on auto-pilot. In the following weeks I inherited the house and began dealing with seeking justice for my Dad. After an entire year, there was no lawyer willing to take the case of wrongful death due to my Father’s pre-existing medical conditions. Once the year was up, so was the statute of limitations. A lawsuit was no longer an option. A complaint against the responsible parties was additionally ignored. There was no justice for my Dad. Honestly, there is NO justice for that kind of circumstance… I was just seeking any legal recourse just to try to make them feel even a small fraction of what I felt. Nothing happened. I was bitter, upset, angry, and felt like I let him down. It wasn’t about money, it wasn’t about anything except accountability for their actions. It didn’t happen. The system failed because of a law of averages. The point spread wasn’t worth betting against to anyone but me.
Skip forward to September or November of 2008. I had an absolutely unexpected and powerful realization about a different topic. I called my best, closest, and most trusted friend of 13 years and told her I had something I needed to tell her. Once she was off work we met for a beer. I stammered through the evening, and after a couple of drinks (which amounts to my yearly average) I suggested it was time to call it a night, without telling her what I intended to say. I walked her to her car, as per usual, and as she was getting in her car I finally felt able to say what was on my mind. I told her I was ready to tell her why I wanted her to meet me. She stood up and looked at me with the most intensely curious look and asked what was eating me up inside. I explained that what I had to say could make her uncomfortable and even place an irreparable strain on our friendship. She assured me that there was nothing I could say that would do that. I looked her in the eye and said ,”(MRC) I love you… I think I always have. I’ve been fooling myself for a long time and I can’t lie to myself anymore. I love you and I’m certain down to my soul I always will.” She stood there, in the parking lot, looking at me like I told her aliens from outer space had landed on her forehead. Eternity passed. I asked her if she was going to say anything. She said she didn’t know what to say and left. I went home, cursing my stupidity for opening my mouth. Convincing myself that I just destroyed a friendship. The next day (MRC) calls me and suggests that she stop by the house. I agreed and thought to myself, this is where she tells me that I’m a piece of crap and we can’t be friends because she’s not certain she can trust me anymore. She gives me the usual hug (the best hugs I have ever had I might add) and sits down on the couch. She’s quiet for a moment and I say, “Are you OK? Did I catch you that far off guard last night? Are you ready to kill me yet or do you want to watch me squirm a little first?” She looked at me and gave the warm smile that only she is capable of giving and said to me, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me for 10 years.” and I was completely floored. I was distraught, confused, overjoyed, and then I said to her, “Well a damn HINT would have been nice!!!”. She kept smiling and said, “By the way, I love you too.” And that was it. We were together and she moved in shortly after that with her two-year old son (TMC). The first year had some small difficulties that I would consider to be common adjustments to learning the habits of someone else when you move in together. Otherwise it was bliss. I could only see happiness down the road and more of the same once we were married and working on a little brother or sister for (TMC). We agreed to take a long period of time before we took our vows and believed it was the responsible thing to do. She was recently divorced and there was a decompression period needed for that. We had it made. We were in love and the world was right, in some ways for the first time. Our families had tried to persuade us to get together for years and we ignored them or laughed it off thinking it wasn’t in the cards. One of us was always involved with someone else when the other was single. It just never matched up. Then… we were together and happier than either of us have ever been. I lovingly accepted the responsibility of her son and did everything I could to be his friend and be a positive male role model for him. My love for him grew to equal my love for her.
Then the second year began, and the arguments started. The issues, and the fighting, and the uncertainty, and the stress, and the misunderstanding, which to make this shorter… transitioned into the third year. The constant stress, anger, pain, and issues with trust, and the feelings on both sides that one didn’t find the other attractive or perhaps there was someone else. The constant battles over who was right and who was wrong instead of focussing on what the actual issue was. The distance between us was infinite at times. In the third year, she became pregnant and lost twins about three months into the pregnancy, not to mention the money issues that came up at the same time.
March 16th of this year, the day before my 38th birthday, as we lay in bed talking to each other because we’re too tired to fight anymore she tells me she is thinking about moving out. I become upset and afraid for the first time. It was all-of-the-sudden-real. I didn’t really know what to say other than what you would expect to hear from someone who doesn’t want to lose the other. For a time, the anger was gone. The accusations, baseless fear and distrust took a break. The next day, March 17th (St. Patrick’s Day & my birthday)… we muddled through it. She timidly told me “Happy Birthday” and I replied with a thank you or some such comment. It was very subdued. I occasionally asked if she had though anymore about moving out and she always said she didn’t know. I was afraid and hurt. Walking on egg shells and attempting to be nice. It was obvious. On the following day, March 18th, I was due to meet a friend and his new son. As I was getting ready to leave and she was getting ready to go see her Mom the fighting started again. I started it. I asked if she was moving out and she said she still didn’t know and I lost my temper. I accused her of dragging it out just to make me suffer. I accused her of intentionally trying to turn the dagger a little more and drive it a little deeper. I stormed out of the house to meet my friend and I pulled over on the side of the road and sent her a text saying “I love you but don’t come back home tonight” to which she replied “That’s fine. When do you want me to come get everything?” which I was too mad to realize what she was saying at the time. I wanted her to just be gone for the night to give us some space and perspective… not permanently.
The last three weeks have been devastatingly clear in some ways. I started seeing a psychologist on March 19th. I have regularly scheduled sessions. I realized in the first week something my therapist agrees with. Gather your thoughts for a moment because this is kind of big………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
The injustice related to my Father’s death has followed me. I have been making EVERY battle I’ve fought or argued about that one moment. Every fight with (MRC), every disagreement, debate, or argument we have had became more about being right than it was about fixing the problem. (MRC) told me this time and again, but I took it as her trying to get the upper hand in an argument. I didn’t listen. I realized what I have put her through and what I have put (TMC) through as well. I was too hard on him for reasons I may never understand. I wasn’t abusive, but I was hard on him for sure. There are other issues between us, but in many ways, I didn’t pick my battles and fought to win over the smallest issue no matter what the cost. I broke her down, destroyed her trust, and her faith in our ability to last.
This is NOT all my fault. She has plenty of fault in all of this too. She has her own issues that sparked difficulty between us as well. I’m not here to talk about her in that way though. These are my confessions, flaws, and mistakes. I have a lot of work to do.
In all of this, I see how much I love her and (TMC), perhaps more clearly now than I have in a long, long time. I see how much I miss her and (TMC). We’ve seen each other from time to time and discussed through the phone or text some of my realizations and made arrangements for her to pick up her belongings which is still underway. I spend a lot of time at home pouring through things and separating “her stuff” and “my stuff”. Everything that is packed takes her further away. Everything separated solidifies the likelihood that we will never be able to put this back together. She has an apartment now with a six month lease. She broke it off completely Saturday, March 31st. At the same time, I have asked her if there is still a chance for us and she says, “I don’t know” which isn’t a solid “No”, but not a “Yes” either. I still have hope, though I know it isn’t a likely thing to happen.
As I continue to work on my problems, deal with not seeing (TMC) for three weeks, not seeing (MRC) in any meaningful way, and clean the house while splitting up our stuff, I look around and only see the things that aren’t there. The feeling of emptiness in the house resembles my heart. Food has no taste, drink quenches no thirst, and sleep is pointless. I am more or less lost and my home feels like a foreign and strange land. I am frequently upset to the point of exhaustion and the rest of the time I sit and stare at something that happens to be in front of me and I can lose an hour or more of time doing that.
ALL OF THAT TO GET TO A FEW POINTS:
Point #1: Learn to admit and recognize that you might not be capable of handling a firearm (or other instrument) in a safe fashion while in a distressed state. (This can apply to any severely stressful circumstance)
When she ended it on Saturday, I was distraught, and experienced more emotional pain than I have ever experienced. Not once did I consider suicide as a way out. Not once did I consider doing anything else morally or criminally stupid. These feelings I have are extremely painful, but nothing compared to the eternal damnation that comes with suicide, or even the sacrifice of my Constitutional Rights should I commit and illegal act. These things were never options. However, I did realize that right now, without the effect of any external source, I was not 100% emotionally. I had a moment of calm and clarity that night. I walked through my home and very carefully and calmly unloaded two pistols, my AR, and my SXS shotgun. You see, I wanted to do that when I had a clear moment and NOT while I was upset. I was concerned that in my state of mind I would not be focussed on safety, which is the number one reason for negligent/accidental/unintentional discharges. I took them out of the equation. I was also sending a little message to myself… “This is NOT even close to being an option”. It was a way for me to look at all of my “options” and removing the ones that wouldn’t do me or anyone else any good. I need to remind each of you that at no point did I EVER consider suicide to be an option. I look at my actions as an affirmation of that consideration. It’s difficult to explain, and I truly hope you understand this perspective and if not I would be happy to attempt a better explanation, but for now I have more to discuss. Suffice it to say that my therapist agrees with this concept and agreed that it was a wise decision and “normal” as opposed to being even remotely negative. He has no problem with me wearing a pistol even in our sessions every week even though he understood that I did not carry for a few days after Saturday including our last session. Again, he thought that to be a good use of logic in an emotionally rooted circumstance.
Point #2: Listen to each other regardless of whether you like what you hear or not. It’s not always about winning.
Just ask Charlie Sheen! Sometimes “Winning” doesn’t matter. Sometimes “Winning” eventually leads to “Loosing”. If you and yours are having these kind, or other seemingly irreconcilable differences I would suggest you seek counseling for BOTH of you together AND separately. You may save yourself AND your relationship.
Point #3: Swallow your damn pride!
Just read everything in this post and tell me where the pride is. If you can’t figure it out then re-read Point #2. I finally understand how pride can be a deadly sin. It burdens me to realize that it took loosing this much to realize it.
This has been a long read, but I thank you for reading all of it and I sincerely hope that you can take something important away from this. It would put a little joy in my heart and soul to know that I may have saved someone else from my hard-earned experiences. I will be praying on this for the rest of my life. I will be praying that God grants me the courage, strength, and wisdom to be the man I need to be for me, as well as (MRC) and (TMC). I pray that He will do the same for her as well. I pray that He will encourage and inspire us to try again in His Glory. I pray that He will not allow that to happen unless BOTH of us do what we need to do for ourselves, each other, and most importantly for (TMC).
With all respects and appreciation for reading,
Disavowed With Honor
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