I'm supposed to be Lisa 2.0.
Post-cancer Lisa. More zen and accepting of all the crap that life throws at us, Lisa. Living in the moment, and choosing happiness, Lisa. And, I've tried to be that Lisa. But I'm not so close and deep down inside, the thing that I really haven't been able to figure out has me out of bed tonight, tapping away at keys instead of lying in my comfy bed.
I need to be needed, and I need people to appreciate me. That's my 'personality overlay'. That's me. Which is why I am crushed, catapulted down a dark well when people who are supposed to know me, blame me for what's wrong with the world. Or what's wrong in their world.
My husband has a mental health condition. He's been diagnosed with a variety of different things at different times. Prescribed a variety of different medications. Some have worked a bit. Some have worked a lot. Some haven't worked at all. And, he's on a rinse and repeat cycle with all of this. First time he got sick, his family lined up squarely against me... and he joined them. Or maybe it was vice versa and they joined him... but they were all convinced that I was the cause of all that was wrong with his world.
I was floored by the attack. By the vitriol, the hatred, the lack of understanding, the accusations. And, the bizarre overstepping of boundaries by some quasi family members. Flash forward a couple of years, and we have a more muted version of the same drama happening. Now, of course, the toll of all that drama the first time around, all that blame the first time around, had made me sick. Or to say it in a more fair way, amongst all that toxicity, blame and anger, I stopped caring for me while fighting with them. So, for this rinse and repeat cycle, I'm a few months out of the end of radiation treatment and not feeling myself. On this cycle, we have a more civil and restrained go around. When he starts to unravel, I tell him I can't do it again. I can't be blamed again. And, so he left to live with his family.
We eventually made our way back to each other again, and I made my way back to work. And, started the Lisa 2.0 process in earnest. Fought through panic attacks, sleepless nights, seemingly insurmountable self-doubt to get to a better version of me. But, now we are on another rinse and repeat cycle, and the blame is back. And, my tolerance for toxicity and anger has evaporated. Tonight I lost myself in the anger, and I hate the way that makes me feel. The anger is so damaging, but the hurt, the lack of understanding... I don't have the words. This blame for his illness hits me somewhere that makes me unable to get my legs underneath me. My balance goes, it's that feeling after the spinny rides at the amusement park, part nauseous, part dizzy, mostly struggling to stay upright.
I've been told that I need to take some responsibility - like the responsibility for the two teenagers, the nephew, the cat, dog, horse, vehicles, house isn't enough. I've been told that HIS problems are MY fault. I've been told that if I really showed him love, then this wouldn't happen.
My head calls bullshit, he owns his thoughts, his health, his illness and I own mine. But my heart, well, my heart is broken. Tomorrow, I will square my shoulders, throw my head up, smile and keep on swimming.
But tonight, I'm going to cry.