Just when I think I’ve gotten over my ex, the dreams start up again. The memories flood back. This is getting old
I owe you an apology. I’ve judged you too harshly. We were both manipulated, lied to by omission. I realize you were not intentionally hurting me. I was collateral damage.
I think under different circumstances, we could have been friends. And if you are the one he needs to be happy, then I am glad you are together.
You’re a better match for him, a better partner. He finds in you the things he didn’t find in me. It’s taken me a long time to really come to terms with this. It doesn’t mean I’m inferior or you are superior, it just means you two are more compatible.
I hope he treats you with the respect you deserve. I hope you help him remember the good parts of himself, to quiet those self doubts he has.
I apologize and hope you find it in your heart to send forgiveness my way.
Amazing how quickly you can go from feeling pretty good to being downright despondent. Rotten bipolar. There’s a good reason I’m feeling down, but I know I’m beating myself up too much. There’s nothing more I could have done to have changed how things went.
It’s actually distressing how bad I feel right now, just full blown “hate myselfs”. Feeling lonely and angry and I just want to crawl in my bed and hide. I’m tired of feeling misunderstood, left out and alone. No amount of yoga or meditating or supplements can help me tonight. I just need to honor the sadness and start again tomorrow.
Just a quick hello and letting my dear readers know I hope to have a post up this weekend detailing my medication, fitness and wellness progress. In the meantime, I hope you are all well! Take care!
Something I haven’t really discussed in too much detail is the fact that I am a veteran’s daughter. My father fought in Vietnam in 1968 through 1969. 68 was a bad year, although honestly, they all were bad years. His generation of service was the generation of anti military protests, of being spit on and called baby killer. There were no emotional half time reunions with my grandparents and aunts. My family was just ecstatic he came home in one piece.
Dad didn’t have a plum assignment, he was drafted into the infantry not long after high school ended.He survived his tour and left. He did not want to be a career military man. He saw and did things that have caused him nightmares. He had PTSD before they had a name for it. You never approached him from behind without announcing who you were, something my mom learned shortly into their courtship. As the years went on, and he started our family with my mom, the mental anguish stopped, only to be replaced with physical ailments related to his service, specifically stemming from his exposure to Agent Orange. First it was eczema, then diabetes. The eczema morphed into psoriasis and his arthritis was re-classified as psoriatic arthritis. His ankle, injured when he stepped out of a Huey after it landed, is now misshapen by arthritis and gout. His back is 95% arthritic and riddled with bone spurs. Dad deals with it, as most men of his generation do, by just gutting it out and continuing on. But now things are different, and I am the reason why.
My father receives medical treatment through the VA. He was lucky enough to get in quickly, not being one of the thousands of people on wait lists. He was in for a check up related to his high blood pressure and diabetes management, and mentioned all of my ailments to his doctor. The doctor surprised him by saying they were hearing of more and more Vietnam veterans with children having similar problems. The doctor suggested I go in to talk to a claims representative, that I might be denied coverage at first, but that a new bill has been submitted that is due to change the coverage veterans’ children receive. When my dad advised me of this, I was skeptical (he has hearing issues in addition to all his other problems), then I started doing research as to health benefits for children of veterans exposed to Agent Orange.
Let me say first off, this research does not produce the most cheery and uplifting results. I learned that, even as sick as I am, I am well off. I can walk and care for myself, which is more than a large percentage can say. I also lived past 30 years of age, again, putting me ahead of many others. However, I found that migraines, reproductive issues, immune system disorders, emotional and mental development problems are found in higher percentages among children of Vietnam veterans than among other groups. I also learned that the federal government is doing next to nothing to help these children. If you think the horrible treatment Veterans get is frustrating, check into what their dependents get. (Interestingly, in doing this research, I also learned my ex-fiancee was exposed to chemicals during his deployment in Iraq, which ended a few months before he and I got together. I am praying he never experiences health problems as a result of his deployment)
My father just attributed his illnesses to getting older, to making poor diet choices, to family history, etc. Now we have learned that many of these things stem from his service and exposure to Agent Orange. He complains very little when you consider all he is going through, and all he went through. He’s always been a good father, provided for his family and didn’t run around on Mom, hit us or drink. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to say when it comes to my illnesses. He’s always prided himself on being able to fix things, be it the car, the house, the yard. He can’t fix what I am going through, and it bothers him to no end. I know he is hoping that the VA may be able to help me, that the same system that is so broken and backwards can help me heal and move forward.
Is it a stretch to say that all my health problems stem from my father’s exposure to Agent Orange? Maybe, but it’s not without merit. We learn more and more about the horrible chemicals every day. There’s a reason there are so many anti Monsanto groups, many headed by children of other Vietnam veterans exposed to their company’s evil product. It’s unknown at present just how many generations will be affected by Agent Orange exposure. This legacy is yet another reason I mourn the Vietnam Veterans, even the ones still alive. Such a thankless, unnecessary war (though all wars are) and they will be victims even after they pass away.
On a related note, please do not turn a blind eye to ways you can help veterans. There are many organizations across the country that help. I am embarrassed not just by the wait times for veterans to get help through the VA, but also by the huge number of homeless veterans. But the number that makes me cry is the number 22. That is how many veterans commit suicide per day. Mind you, this is just the number of reported suicides, the number may actually be higher. We need to change this. You don’t have to be pro-military or pro-war or even pro-Second Amendment, but maybe being a little more pro-human would help all of us.
Bullies never grow up. I mean, they get old and fat just like the rest of us, but they never mature emotionally. In my life, I’ve encountered a lot of bullies. I don’t know if it is because I am “different” or what, I just seem to be a target.
It started in elementary school, I had coke bottle glasses and acne and crooked teeth. Then as I got older, and grew up into a pretty good looking lady, I got crap from women who felt threatened by me. But I find the worst bullies are the ones I’ve worked with. I have a woman bullying me now at work, and I’m fed up with it. Fortunately, I have the foresight to be aware of my rights and protections as a disabled person. I also understand what it is to be professional and appropriate for the workplace. This woman is neither professional, appropriate or even civilized.
I’m talking petty, juvenile 6th grade crap. Saying she feels sick when she sees me, that I make her life a living hell. Constantly questioning why I have FMLA and what accommodations are being made for me under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Sending me threatening text messages and purposely neglecting to tell me information that pertains to me finishing my work.
I’ve gone to my supervisor about it, his supervisor and now human resources. I cannot even begin to tell you how frustrating this is. I’m about to get a nose bleed from taking the high road and not responding in kind to her idiocy. I’ve got a bad temper, so the fact that I haven’t flattened her with a right hook is nothing short of amazing. This stupidity is going on along with my financial issues, my health issues and in the middle of me trying to move.
Why is she mad at me? I really don’t know. I think it stems from jealousy. But I keep going, as she has underestimated me. I’ve survived much worse than this, and I will still be finding the positive things in every day as she sits in her misery.
Years down the road, and I realize I still love him. I always will. When we were together, I said I’d die for him, this is still true.
I don’t know why, though. He lied, he disrespected me, he was carrying on 3 separate emotional affairs with various ex-girlfriends. I guess when you don’t value your own worth, you attract people who don’t value you, either. I think I am in love with the good memories: when we were together in school, when we traveled, when we had our most perfect, amazing first Christmas as a couple.
Yet I know, if for some bizarre reason came up that I had to give my life for him, for his happiness, I would sacrifice myself. Crazy? Yes. Noble? Debatable.
Should I move on and find happiness now? Absolutely. But I fear I will never feel love like that again. Life feels so empty these last several years and I realize it’s because he still has most of my heart. I don’t know how to get it back.