I passed the 80 week mark on Saturday-I didn't exactly celebrate. In fact, I started to gear up for my lube job tomorrow-or should I say, double lube job, since I get the hosepipe at both ends?
My friend Dani rang me on Saturday to inform me that someone we both knew-whose name is Ann-died suddenly on Friday afternoon. I was quite upset: Ann was 57 years old, and I thought she was in good health. Wrong-appearances can be so deceptive, can't they?
The thing about Ann was that I spent many hours on the phone with her, counselling her, trying to help her make sense of a bad marriage and her desire to leave (but fear of doing so). Ann, you see, has (or, rather, had) been married for many years to a man who was cold, manipulative and bullying-I have a lot of experience there, since my ex was very similar. I told her once that it seems like they could have been twins, separated at birth!!
Ann wanted to leave-but all her money was tied up in the property they owned together, and she was adamant that she wasn't willing to change her lifestyle. So-there were times she was nearly suicidal, and she had to go off work because of her emotional state. I spent so much time listening to her complaining-and I was trying to recover from "the event", so you can imaging how much fun that wasn't!! But she needed someone who had been through something similar to encourage her to decide what she wanted, and to have the courage to walk away and create a happy life for herself. I reached the point where I was headed for therapy, so I told her that she had to make the decisions for herself.
The short version: Ann returned to work, still complaining to anyone who would listen, and still miserable in her marriage but afraid to do anything about it. On Friday, she walked into a back room in her office, had a massive stroke, and died-alone.
That brings me to reality vs. fantasy: both of us dreamed of a better life, but she opted out of hers by dying. There but for the grace of God, etc, etc!! I spent more than 18 months dreaming about being somewhere else, being someone else, not ever having gone through the ordeal I went through, winning the lottery, and so on-Ann, in her own way, did the same: fantasizing over a better life. But she didn't take any steps to improve her life, and all I have done for 80+ weeks is fight for something that resembles normalcy. And-I mention this because I know several people who have been through traumatic experiences and dream about something better, although they don't seem to be either able or willing to create change.
So there you go. We were going to have lunch together next week, and now I have her funeral to attend instead. What is there about so many women that we are so stuck in a bad situation that we refuse to either change it or walk away and create something better? Is any man-or a house, or a car, or money in the bank, or whatever-worth dying for? I walked away with nothing (which just about gave my solicitor an aneurism), and life has been anything but a walk in the park ever since, but at least I have my freedom and my independence. If I screwed up (and I did, a lot), at least I did it on my own. I made my own choices and decisions, and a lot of them weren't the best (hindsight is always 20/20), but they were mine.
Yep-fantasies are fun, but they do tend to get in the way of reality if we let them, and time passes and our lives rush by at warp speed. It took me 80 weeks to be able to accept that my life is different (boy, is it ever!!), but it doesn't have to be tragic. I have to be able to move on, and share my life with anyone who is really interested (via this blog), and I don't intend to pop my clogs anytime soon. I will keep you posted.
Tomorrow is the dreaded hosepipe gig. And Sean, my gastro guy, tells me that taking two days of Klean Prep is a lot cheaper than spending over £125 on a colonic irrigation-and it is more effective, too. It's also unpleasant-but I can take that money and spend it on something frivolous!! Why not? I'm worth it!
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment