Anxiety on Wheels

And I’ll throw it in the current that I stand upon so still

The anger I have been harboring for quite some time now is shifting, dissipating; underneath is sadness, always.

Lola hasn’t spoken to me in more than a month and her mother is quite paranoid about COVID, it makes sense, partially. The last time she spoke to me she told me that she wasn’t upset about the divorce. This is why I didn’t want Amanda to stay in touch with her, it puts her in the middle and it isn’t good for my mental health to be around Lola with her in touch with Amanda, asking how to spell “Benny” when I pick her up.

I’m tired of these mental loops of hatred and anger, what narrative do I wish to start telling myself? If I truly loved myself completely, what is something nice I could say to myself? What narrative serves me?

I think that clean breaks are important and space, no contact is a very necessary to heal. Could there have been a timeline where we could have salvaged a “friendship” out of our marriage?

No. I really don’t think so, at least, not without betraying my own boundaries and self care. Continuing to allow access to my emotional and spiritual energy would have been abusive to myself and would not be loving or compassionate towards myself. I tried this, I did such for months and it’s only led to additional trauma and a relapse of agoraphobia.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Amanda and I were very much in love at one point. People change over time. I’m allowed to be as “self righteous” and “holier than thou” as much as I want to be; I’m under zero obligation to be who I was five minutes, five years ago and I refuse to continually allow myself to be torn down and held to who I was.

That’s the game, though. We often personify and build people up to be these awful creatures that we despise so we don’t feel the hurt, so we lie to ourselves and make sweeping statements of how awful things always were. We overwrite our memories and second guess ourselves, we can become toxic in the pursuit of running from the hurt, because anger trumps sadness.

And even in this moment I’m still fighting with her in my mind to some regard, replaying old fights and patterns. I grow tired of this, these neural pathways and talking to her in my head. I’m tired of giving energy to it, these false truths.

“We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more in imagination than in reality.” 

– Seneca

I picked up Lola’s room today, I haven’t really touched it since Amanda and her were in there putting away her laundry and unpacking. This was hard, but necessary. I’m recycling the space and turning it into a meditation room, I’d like to find a comfortable mediation pillow. My altar will be on the wall with a quark board above, a vision board.

Right on queue

No, I’m not missing her. I don’t miss coming to bed and being ignored while they offer their last sliver of emotional energy to someone else. I don’t miss my daughter being ignored on parenting weekends. I don’t miss coming home feeling good then being torn down. I don’t miss the jealousy and the passive aggressiveness.

I don’t enjoy the toxic comparison leveraged against me, or her telling me that she really isn’t polyamorous and only needs one romantic partner. I don’t miss her telling me that she stopped giving a fuck about my feelings since January.

The truth comes out a little bit at a time, you’ll eventually catch people in their lies.

Here’s the narrative that I can’t get out of my head. He rejected her, she just got divorced. She clung to me, because after all, she would have never been comfortable dating a cis male if it wasn’t for Kayden. NRE wore off and her “reliability” kept her around far longer than she should have. I really think a big reason why she stuck around was because of Lola, I think that she would have discarded me all the way back in November if it wasn’t for her because she knows, she knows that she’s fucking up a kid’s life.

During our last email exchanges I likened our transition to being on a roller coaster. She told me that she didn’t intend for me to be on it. You don’t marry someone under the context of monogamy and give them an ultimatum a month after. Marriage is a commitment and forcing someone from mono to non-hierarchical polyamory is extremely abusive. You go from mono to primaries, set good expectations and boundaries around the secondary relationship and go slow.

This doesn’t mean that there is veto, necessarily, but if your partner whom you just married becomes suicidal and goes to inpatient due to your actions, especially if you just married them months prior and became a mother to their fucking kid, you don’t abandon them.

I really wish she would have just broken it off and said fuck it in January while I was in inpatient, when she said she stopped “giving a fuck” about me, like she told me when we signed our divorce paperwork. This would have been taking accountability; fuck what our families think, fuck her guilt. The trauma and damage caused by stringing me along and bread crumbing me for several months after was, and remains much worse then a clean break.

“If anyone tells you that a certain person speaks ill of you, do not make excuses about what is said of you but answer, ‘He was ignorant of my other faults, else he would have not mentioned these alone.’”

– Epictetus

Things would have been much different if things started out poly; there’s a reason why the majority of relationships and marriages fail when attempting to transition them. Where things stand now should have been expected in some capacity.

I started this entry with the intent of loving kindness, compassion towards myself and her; I’m really struggling with it. It’s funny that it feels as if it’s been quite some time since I’ve even thought of this mess; I’ve been feeling down and aimless over the weekend, sad and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Here it is, bubbling up again.

It does feel a little softer though, there are some things that I had to think about for a moment before they bubbled up. I think what led me here and to feel this way is that I’ve been getting little flashes of good memories; her and Lola, I floating in the water at France Park or that the RV park in Greenfield. My phone pops up old photos, “on this day one year ago” and it catches me off guard because I feel warm for a moment before reality hits me and I shame myself for feeling anything towards her.

I get so fucking mad at myself for missing her, I’m mad that I’m sad sometimes. Then, of course, my brain sits here and tells me that she never gave a fuck and hasn’t hurt at all because she knew exactly what she was doing. Must feel good to have been in control of a cis male, huh? You’ve feared cis males for how long? It must feel empowering to destroy someone because they have a dick.

The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where then do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own…” 

– Epictetus

Boy, aren’t I a ray of sunshine today? Fucking Scorpios, man.

I feel like what I’m most upset about is allowing myself to have been abused for so long, for not having good boundaries and walking away when I needed to. We both chose to stick around and destroy our little island, the organism of our relationship and hurt each other willingly, we could have stopped at any time.

I became addicted to it, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have ever felt as loved by her if she hit me and broke my nose, just to have the attention; and she knew. She commented how saying no to sex, to intimacy and emotional attention made her feel empowered in a way.

We were both addicts of destroying each other. There’s a part of me that misses fighting with her, that intensity. It’s so fucking toxic though, I haven’t been able to leave my house more than five minutes away for two months now without absolutely panicking. I find myself wanting to start fights in my current relationship sometimes to get a little boost of the chaos sometimes.

And I’ve just been informed that Lo’s parent’s dog died that we’ve been watching this past week while they were on vacation, that they just picked up minutes ago, once he got home. UGH. I let him out to potty and he was acting a little weird, so I picked him up and cuddled him as they arrived. WHAT THE FUCK. 😭

You know, the squirrel that Lo and I were watching and hand fed the other week climbed up in my van’s suspension and suffocated last week… What was it, the RV’s power cord caught on fire and something chewed up my truck’s wiring last December, too?

Yeah.. I’m not going to go off the deep end there. These things happen and things stand out when we are looking for them; just like repeating numbers and looking for little things people say and do to build resentment so we don’t have to feel sad.

Sigh, so what can we learn here? Anger and hate is poison. Everything eventually ends. Impermanence is what gives life meaning.

“Think of the life you have lived until now as over and, as a dead man, see what’s left as a bonus and live it according to Nature. Love the hand that fate deals you and play it as your own, for what could be more fitting?”

– Marcus Aurelius

I’m really sad that my marriage failed. I’m really sad that the person I fell in love with wasn’t who I thought she was. I’m sad that someone else was more important to her, and I’m sad that she couldn’t figure that out before our wedding.

I’m sad that he ghosted her for the first year and a half of our relationship, because things would have unfolded very differently and much pain could have been saved; we likely wouldn’t have been together at all, or at least, I would have sought to build a life with someone else and formed a secondary relationship with her.

I’m sad that she chose to put me down and further hurt me, refuse to make space for me the last time we saw each other. I’m sad that she stopped caring and strung me along for so long for any other reason then wanting to have me in her life as a partner.

I’m really sad that once I found someone whom I could have formed a primary relationship with under the context of polyamory whom I could have cohabitated with and had my needs met, that she told me it wasn’t what she wanted. It’s really not fair to be held to someone else’s standards under the context of polyamory when a core tenant of poly is autonomy.

And I’m really fucking pissed that she made toxic comparisons under polyamory, which were completely unethical and that fucking comment about being pissed about us not having a savings account, specifically, so she would have more money to move out with. Like, what the fuck? Sorry I didn’t support destroying our family and go so far as to pay you to discard me and Lola?


And now I’m pissed all over again. And now I’m livid because I remember that she threw my employer’s laptop on the ground in my yard when I asked for it back, wanted to keep ahold of the car keys to “maintain control” over the situation, then called the police when I got pissed about it and demanded my car keys back so we could go no contact. What a dumb cunt, I feel. I really wish my retraining order against her was approved so she would fuck off.


I just miss us, who we were. It wasn’t always like this; I’m certain of it. It’s okay to grieve that, right? 😕

Let’s shift focus a bit. What are some things that I need to forgive myself for?

I forgive myself for not walking away sooner. I should have gotten up from the table and asked for a divorce, then filed the moment she gave me an ultimatum back in October. I betrayed myself by forcing myself into something that I did not want. I did not treat myself with compassion or kindness by lacking boundaries.

I forgive myself for walking away at any other point. It became harder the longer I stuck around.

I forgive myself for being mean and quite awful to her; I’ve reacted instead of responded far too often and made an ass of out myself. I can’t be too hard on myself for this, her behavior and how she treated me was very abusive, but still, I could have chosen to be kind from afar. And I mean.. I tried going no contact but she kept popping up by calling my mom or staying on contact with Lola. You know, I’m going to scrap this one; it’s not my fault she refused to repeatedly violate my boundaries and it was the only way for her to get the message and fuck off. How else could I have handled this and protected my daughter?

Never the less, I still need to forgive myself for being mean and hateful because it’s not who I am or what I want to put into the world at a base level.

I forgive myself for not seeing the red flags and being overly optimistic about our relationship.

I forgive myself to making her out to be far more kind and caring in my mind then she actually is.

I forgive myself for the people I’ve hurt in my transition into polyamory. I did not choose or want polyamory when I was married; I felt like I finally found someone worth settling down for; such was not the case. She shares responsibility in the pain our relationship inflicted upon others.

I forgive myself for allowing myself to be used for my income, my insurance, my skillsets and my daughter.

I forgive myself for missing my abuser. Breaking free from childhood dynamics is very difficult and it’s commonplace to replicate our childhoods into adulthood. She wasn’t the first, I rebounded right out of the abusive relationship I had with Aly right into this one. The relationships I’m in now aren’t abusive at all and sometimes feel alien to me; but that’s okay. Familiarity of healthy relationship dynamics will come in time.

I forgive myself for allowing Lola to be exposed to polyamory and an abusive stepmother. I felt absolutely blindsided and I strongly feel as if she changed to become abusive over time. She wasn’t always and was quite a good mother at one point. I need to stop thinking that I didn’t see it and she was this person the whole time, it’s not true.

I forgive myself for ruminating and dwelling on unhelpful thought patterns and memories that do not serve me. My attention is best directed towards loving myself and self compassion, I know this. How many times must I return here? The simple truth is, people would be here if they wanted to; they do not and this has been made abundantly clear over the last several months. After all, the only painful part of rejection is believing you deserve it.

“I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent—no one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you.” 

– Seneca

I love myself

I love myself

I love myself

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