June 2026
15 July 2026, 12:02
Haven’t posted in a while.
I should. I should journal. I should talk to you.
I ended a relationship in June. An eight year relationship that was filled with so much… stuff. I won’t go into much of it, except that it was indeed important to me, but the emotional, mental and financial load I carried finally broke me. I really do believe that you can love someone deeply and also cannot be with them. It’s been an extremely painful roller coaster, and to top it all off, I still live with the person I separated from. I drowned in pain and guilt that I couldn’t show. It’s a little better now. But, its still a process and I’m still trying to get through it.
But. Here’s another curve ball June threw at me. About a month into the breakup, I think, my cousin contacted me. I haven’t had contact with any of my family since 1993. I built a life, and a support system of sorts and went through life living on the edge of survival. Sometimes my head bobbed above the water for a little while. Sometimes I felt like I was drowning. Struggle was a constant partner throughout things. I struggled with people, money, myself, and build up quite a lot of debt to all of those entities. I am not proud of a lot of things in my life, but I am equally as proud with what I’ve accomplished, my work, and what sort of person I’ve become. I don’t ask to delete much in my life, because it all coalesced into the person I am now. I do wonder, sometimes, if I hadn’t had the childhood I had, what sort of person I’d be now?
Now. Down to the nitty, as they say, gritty. My cousin and I have been casually talking here and there. As I said, a month into me trying to swim in my pool of emotional chaos, she text me urgently. My estranged father, one of the people who made my childhood horrific, said he wanted to send me money – no strings. When my cousin first contacted me about my parents, she said they still were alive and on their own, and had money. She was concerned that I should get some of it when they finally passed. My father was an unbelievable 90 years old and my mom was in her mid 80s I think. My mother had dementia, and my father was getting it. Now. When I heard that, my first thought was, ‘I guess that bodes well for me and my life expectancy’ and the second was ‘Jesus, evil dies hard, now don’t it?’ My cousin and I talked a while, had conversations of just how my childhood was, and I had questions about my family – was my family the only one with abuse and violence, mainly.
The whole thing had let loose the dogs of war in my head, all the barriers and compartments I hid all the trauma and memories busted open. The trickle of blood that had opened up when she came to see me in 2024, suddenly ripped open and I was laid bare, bleeding out. All the memories and trauma I buried deep in pockets of my brain spilled out and mixed in with the current effluence I was dealing with. I finally just broke in a big way. I desperately searched for comfort and answers. I had all these broken shards of life that I couldn’t imagine I would be able to put back together. Happy fucking birthday month to me, eh?
So it was hour by hour, minute by minute, wave after wave of a number of different emotions. I had settle on that the money wasn’t going to be a lure so that I would take this bait and expose myself to those who had hurt me so bad a lifetime ago. Forgiveness is something you DON’T have to give… to anybody. And if that was the price I had to pay, he could keep his money and I will make my goals and dreams come true without it… and them. But still they persisted, and I said, ‘Sure. Send me money. Changes nothing, and don’t expect it to change.’ A little part of my brain hoped they’d send enough to fix the car. But I didn’t hold any real expectation. I had a big mess of crap right in front of me dealing with the now ex and I was barely holding on.
A week goes by, and I’m having my usual work morning breakdown because ending an eight year relationship ain’t a walk in the park. I get a registered letter from my father’s bank. And I’m in such a state, I can’t open it. I had a coworker open it. She tears open the envelope and suddenly screams and dances, which brought a few people to come down and see what the ruckus was. My father had sent money. My father had sent. A. LOT. OF. MONEY. It was a life changing amount and then some. It had a note in the memo, “A Gift. I Love You.”
I lost it. I totally was terrified and crying. And I don’t know why (I’ve since did a bunch of work with two therapists and I do know why). I had the wind and the emotion knocked out of me so badly, I think I may have went a little catatonic. A head start on getting a home, car, security and safety was in my hand. I think my mind broke so badly that day, it could never be put back exactly as it was. Which, now I realize, is a good thing.
Lots of things have happened in 45 days. I said goodbye to a life I had for eight years – the good, bad, ugly and beautiful parts. I am presented with I path forward that I can only see about 5 feet of, and a mind and psyche that needs a little TLC and crazy glue to put back together. Mostly, I got out of ALL my debt. And I got my car a sister that doesn’t have a giant deer dent in the side of it. I’ve gotten things paid off, fixed, and caught up. I still have 75% of the money left, waiting for me to do something. My future is pretty wide open. My head and heart needs healing. The firehose of pain and trauma has stopped gushing to some extent. I just need a little time to heal and get stronger. And get my credit score up a bit.
I did tell my cousin to tell my father thank you. I also said, I may never get to a point where I can have contact with them, because too much of me was destroyed. But I said to tell them. I forgive them.
