"I'm surprised to see you" he says
"The problem is Italy" I say "I am supposed to take my kids in a week and I need to make sure that I am stable. I need to make sure I am okay."
"I meant everything that I said" he said.
"We agreed to a clean break" he says
"There is no such thing as a clean break from my side of this" I say and I know that so many of the things he said were neither confirmed nor denied but rather implied, so how do I know what he really meant? It was open to interpretation and I was not in my right mind. That much I knew. Which meant that my interpretation was not likely accurate.
The rest of that day, that conversation was me fighting for me and trying to understand but also be okay enough to take my kids to Italy in a week. It would be just me and them for the first 10 days, I needed to be okay, which meant I couldn't hear the things that started to hurt too much... and maybe I was protecting him, fighting for him too. I couldn't let him say and/or I couldn't hear what could get him most in trouble.
But Dr. Cheri was not interested in my best interest; he was most concerned about himself. Protecting himself, no matter the cost to me. At least that is how I feel now. It was obvious then that he had lost objectivity and that something had gone amiss but I did not realize just how unconcerned he was with my wellbeing and how willing he was to sacrifice me to protect himself; a false assumption on his part, likely fed and/or guided by ill founded rules, policies and procedures that he felt obligated to follow or that he knew he could utilize to cover his ass.
In waking up, these realizations are hard hitting and difficult to maneuver. Yet I am supposed to, alone and branded. That is one thing. And I think I can, think I am, just to be hit again and again, by symptoms, by realizations, by psychology, by relationships, and by reality.
And now these are coming in the mail. A reminder that I was not okay. I was not as responsible and my mind was... something else... while in Italy. I had forgotten about their driving rules and the typical time that would have been spent preparing and researching was spent trying to stabilize and understand what was happening to my head and my heart and why I was behaving like I was manic.
I needed help.
and I asked for it.
I begged for it.
I was turned away
in the most heartfelt and yet heartless way.
How is that even possible?
I don't know, but it sure as hell hurts again.
And the gold that he left me came at far too high a price. Maybe I would opt to give it back if I could.
...I want you out of my heart.
You are costing me so much
and you are tearing it apart,
even still.
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