steveoscar if there was a wow button I would have been stabbing it.
Honestly I still struggle on an almost every-other interaction with my husband. I don’t really know why or how to deal with it or even if I am coping very well.
It’s almost like he has given me PTSD funny not funny.
What kinda makes me snap out of it tho in moments like these is a peculiar thought that’s been happening recently. The war in Ukraine. How once they were normal everyday people getting on with their lives while ignoring a mass of troops at the border… and the ominous lies of Russian media pretending the Ukraines were provoking the Russians to react.
I imagine just a school teacher telling her kids everything is going to be fine, then two hours later tanks appearing in the roads, and people just being confused. Not knowing how to react. Not knowing this is going to be the beginning or their last days. Nothing matters anymore except staying alive and foraging, going undercover, and even trying to Guerilla resistance knowing you are likely to die.
I imagine being them, and I think back to “oh but we are over here in Los Angeles…” and I imagine, what if, Putin just decided to nuke our big cities.
Nobody is aware. Nobody lives like it’s their last day. Nobody realizes all you have is what you have now. And I think to myself, those teachers who were proven wrong, grieving with guilt that they could have saved people if they were more suspicious and hid, or were skeptical of the Russian intent.
I realize, that very feeling, is the same feeling I carry with me every day. Yet - where is the danger? What am I so intensely burning about? Everything is gonna be ok - isn’t it?
But I’ve been proven wrong time and time again. And my body kept a score. And no matter how logically I think, my body reacts like an animal.
I am conscious now of this reaction, and I force myself to think… this is not suffering. The Ukraines are suffering. Their lives are being ended. Everything they knew is gone and will never be the same. Be grateful for the second/third/fourth chance I had in life, because they did not even get 1. And that thought is what makes me radically look around take a deep breath and shed the burning from inside pushing it out, like butterfly wings because this burn is wasted energy. The heat of this burn should transform into gratitude for being alive and being happy in this moment.
Sharing it to the ether with the butterfly wings that started within. Hoping someone else can catch it, instead of the jaded depression that surrounds me, and sucks me dry every day.
Uhuh. Husband acknowledges to some extent he is a whiner. But that is an understatement and very hard to deal with.
