The last few months, the war within myself has finally ended. I regret, and am ashamed to admit it, but anger, vengeance and hatred have won. I still have crying fits, moments of breaking down, and some joyous moments. However, my thoughts always come back to anger. The anger rules me now, it has taken over and my heart is now black. I look in the mirror and see pure rage in my eyes.
The anger has become so strong, I wanted to end everything. Since I was going away on another one of those “non-refundable” rooms Voldemort and I were to share, I had a plan. I said good-bye and great to know all of you to my co-workers, and had sent a text to a few people explaining I wouldn’t trouble them again. In that room, I had my booze, and MANY different pills.
The events that led up to this have been brewing for months on end. A few things happened recently that triggered “my plan”. It doesn’t matter what they are. To top everything off, it seems I can’t turn around without seeing the 3 numbers in his store’s name. I mean seriously, either the total amount someone pays or the change they receive is ***!!! That happens at least once in a 4 1/2 hour shift!!! It seems every other song that plays at work is by his favorite bands. Whenever I tend to my garden, I see the surplus of veggies that were to be our dinners! His real name seems to constantly pop up all the time.
How I have been able to cover everything up and be “smiley”, I don’t know. I suppose I’ve been getting quite good at acting myself. I can say that Voldemort has taught me well, in that aspect. He has taught me that nobody is for real, and yes, I am a miserable person. It does get more difficult everyday on many levels. I swear, the next person who tells me to “Let it go”, “Karma will get him”, and/or “Don’t let him do this to you”, it will take every ounce of restraint to not punch them!!! I don’t even know that they mean well or are trying to support me. Voldemort told me many times that it’s just people’s way of telling me to shut up because I’m miserable, and making them miserable. They are just to nice to say it.
Okay, I can’t let it go. I mean really! Let someone take your heart, all your savings, risk your life for, and sacrifice almost everything for. Then when you have nothing left they can get, they leave you. He was so sweet, promised me heaven–and took me to hell and left me there. Unless you’ve had this exact thing happen to you, you can’t tell me to let it go. It doesn’t work that way, especially with Bipolar Disorder. I stated it before, there is a REAL chemical imbalance in our brains that leaves us open to feel pain, etc. on a much deeper level.
He’s almost 50, if Karma hasn’t got him yet, it won’t. I’ve already let him do this to me. I’m afraid the damage is irreparable. There is no turning back. I truly believe at one time, I was a genuinely kind, caring and giving person. That person is dead. I am no longer capable of having those traits. I am so consumed with the anger, I’m almost finished building the wall of steel, and there is no way to tunnel. Sorry, karma does need a little push occasionally.
The anger is at myself as well, for I am selfish. Selfish and wrong to unleash my demons on others. I have not felt the ultimate pain of losing a child, when so many have recently from sheer horrific events. I can’t see passed my own issues to try to help others. That’s not me anymore.
Back to “the plan” I had. I didn’t unpacked anything but the pills and wine. I lined up the pill bottles, poured my wine. I started with a few pain pills. I was just about ready to finish that bottle when I received a “someone likes your page” (the page for the fundraiser I do every year) notification on my phone. Then my son texted me. I put the pill bottle and my glass down.
I thought, “Wait, you have to do this thing for the community! Your son wants you!” So, I decided that wasn’t a good time to do it. However, I can’t say when the fundraiser is over (especially if it isn’t successful), and my son moves with his girlfriend, the “plan” will or will not come to fruition. People may think, “She needs committed!” I assure you, that WILL do more harm to me, I’ve been there, twice, never helped. I will do no physical harm what-so-ever to others, so I’m not a “danger to society”. As for Voldemort, well, I won’t harm him physically, or destroy any of his property.
So, now, I am so anxious, upset, and nauseous, and the physical pain is setting in, I don’t even think I can go into work in the morning. I’m so ashamed of the way I behaved the other day. Though my co-workers are aware of my condition, I’m sure they are in total agreement with Voldemort now, and wondered how he put up with me for over 5 years. Well, I had money, gave him space for his “precious” things and a “slave” that would do anything for him–that’s why. Which leads me to the answer to the question in the title. This is how a heart can turn black.