The Monkey Grieves

I remember when my dad told me No man would ever marry me because I had too many scars. I loved playing with my older brother, and getting scraped up was part of daily life. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it was a deeply planted seed that grew roots to my core.

As a teen and young adult, I never took my relationships too seriously after Leon. We met on AOL, and we both liked Korn and it began three or four years of disfunction. He joined the Navy and ended up being gone and accusing me of cheating or possibly wanting to cheat. Eventually, it came out that he could not stop sleeping with someone at every port.

We had spoken of getting married as I was already used to military life, but this revelation cemented in my heart that I was not worth marrying because I was too scarred.

During my mess with him, my brother was murdered. He asked me if I was still stuck on that two weeks later. That effectively ended our formal relationship. I moved to Nashville, made a series of poor choices, and ended up with my awesome daughter. When I came back to Las Vegas, Leon said she was supposed to be his baby.

He then went on to marry a lady and throw it in my face for as many years as he could. She was skinny. that was her best feature. At this point in life, we were in murder trials, and I worked. I spent casual time with men and focused on my daughter and work.

I was in a relationship for three years with a man I really liked who even bought a house out here to have a life together. One night, he insisted we ride together in his fancy car to dinner when he took a phone call to plan his son’s first birthday. The math was not mathing because we had been together for 30 – something months and a one year-old is more like 21 months.

After 25 years of feeling like I was never going to get married, I had finally found someone I was serious about and even SHARED MY FEELINGS with. It was horrible because I had to pretend like I wasn’t dead inside at dinner because my car was in another city. He seemed disappointed when we got back to his house and I got in the truck and left.

I did some due diligence to discover there was no divorce. He simply wanted a warm bed in Las Vegas because his wife wasn’t leaving their family home just because he traveled so much. A part of me died that day. I put it out of its misery. I was tired of not being worth anything to anyone. My dad was right that there was something wrong enough that it repelled men.

I decided to stop putting myself in the position to get hurt and never have anything but an experience for the books. I walked away from dealing with men. I did try one last time to connect to the only man I know with my full respect. After expressing my feelings, he explained how important his career was. I should have left it alone, but hope springs eternal. I still feel the burn spot on my heart. This was the first time a man rejected me. I was 40 with no coping skills!

Neurocognitive tests in two weeks are expected to have a dismal report, and now, my child is an adult. I have the time to focus on my life. My brain is failing. I’ll never have another baby and have a family. I’ll never be able to buy my first showroom car. There will not come a time when I purchase my own home. There will still be no wedding. 

I don’t see a blank canvas, I see an empty easel. I had hoped this part of my life was where I could come back together as a whole human, not legally responsible for keeping a minor alive. As it turns out, much of my life is spent questioning why my parents went for a third kid. If I had realized how horrible my life would be, I would have NEVER had a baby. I would have been much more responsible, likely joining a convent at 18 and dedicating my life to serving the community through the Church.

I love my daughter, but I brought her into a messed up world and then got a bad brain! All of my money is gone now. The savings, the retirement, and my sweet life insurance have gone toward the hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical mess. This was not the planned legacy I had for her. Here we are, though.

None of this stops me from trying to fill my time with activities. I realize that as my brain deteriorates, these things won’t matter. I try to just focus on my current or next project. I try to read every day to keep my brain active. I make fun cards and paint flowers and enjoy creating. What more can I ask than to enjoy right now?

The Most Sad Monkey

Today I was told of an old friend who has recently passed away. We met maybe 12 or 13 years ago at church and he was an energetic athlete with an infectious smile. He was recently married and expecting a child.

Life happens and the couple ended up adopting some siblings from family and he went to Afghanistan as a medic. He was not the same when he got back. things sprialed and as far as I remember there was a lot of effort put into saving the family.

Through the years I tried to keep up with him and see how he was, especially after he had turned to drugs. I never judged him or even mentioned it because I just wanted to know he was Ok and if he needed anything.

He always tried to sound happy to hear from me but I know he was not always happy. I know firsthand how it feels to be stuck in your addiction, watching the world go by as I sunk into a hole. I tried to let him know I was always available and I understood.

I also know that nothing I could have done or said would have mattered until he was ready and I thought he was in the process of moving forward. Looks like he got married and started over, but the past doesn’t just go away. It follows as until we deal with it. I suppose he has now dealt with his.

His children do not have thier father. His wife is a widowed mother. His sibling group is a little smaller. His friends are filled with sadness.

How did he fall victim when he was trying to get his life together? I should have died a hundred times over considering all of the risks I took, but here I am grieving another friend lost to a craving that can never be satisfied.