I just want to get away from everything for a long, long time. that’s what suicide is: a soul in dire need of escape. But quite honestly I have no desire to die now that I am not trapped in a hell of my own making. What I want most is to travel, to spend my days and my nights in parts unknown, in locals that hold no memories of pain or heartache, but only the promise of endless possibilities.
I have literally not been in this much emotional and physical pain since before I escaped the house. The migraine is what’s killing me. DH brought on migraines regularly – they’re the ones that start with a frozen jaw, which happened often because I was compelled to guard my words carefully if I wanted to avoid bruising his fragile ego.
Here’s an example of this:
Are you familiar with the urban slang usage of the word “challenged,” as in “mentally challenged?” This is a common usage of the word, and is generally accepted as a good natured jab to make light of another person’s awkward moment, or as a tool of self-deprecating humor. For example: After spending 30 seconds trying to get my joint roller to take the paper, I might say, “Pardon me while I take half a day to roll one joint. I’m challenged that way. Thank God Bone got me a kick ass bong or I’d just have to eat the pot straight out of the bag.”
Well, for some reason I could never understand, if I used this word, in this context, referencing DH, he became offended! He would turn around and say, “Georgia! I’m NOT challenged! And I can’t believe you would say that! That is so incredibly rude!”
Yes, I explained to him the urban slang meaning of the word. Yes, he heard me use it in reference to myself hundreds of times. Yes, he heard my daughters and I use it in reference to one another regularly, as one of those comforting inside jokes which communicates support to the recipient, even as it may appear as a slight to the casual observer (eg when girlfriends say “Fuck you Bitch” and the recipient understands the intended meaning to be “I love you beyond words.”) But it was beyond DH’s emotional intelligence to feel comfortable having the term “Challenged” used in this manner, in reference to himself.
What do you do with a person like this? For twenty years I looked for ways to communicate with him that would be heard, and not appear threatening, which was an increasingly claustrophobic way to live …But in the end, his fear of losing me gave way to a paranoid fear that I hated him. And that fear grew into a tumor which engulfed his entire being, until he finally became The Monster he suspected me of perceiving in him.