Some days, I wonder how I became the bad guy in all of this.
That’s fact, as far I know- I’ve been told it to my face. I blogged, I wrote the truth. And then I told everyone who didn’t like it to fuck off.
So they did.
And this is the part where I whine- but I was just telling the truth.
Do I regret writing that post…? I ask myself that a lot. I’ve toyed with the idea of deleting it.. but I won’t. It’s my story, it’s my truth. It’s real, and it’s fucked.
Again, sometimes I wonder why that pissed people off so much. And, other times, I don’t need to wonder.
It’s pretty obvious. No one wants to read that stuff. No one wants to know what someone was like at what was possibly the worst time of their life.
But hatred… people turning away… that wasn’t what I expected, ever. It actually took me weeks to realise that was what happened. Naivety is a strong point of mine.
But.. seriously. I’ve lost the love of my life. I’ve lost the father to my children. i have to live with what he said to me, in the last minutes of his life, for the rest of mine.
Isn’t that enough? No matter what I did, while he was alive, what I’ve done, since he’s been dead, isn’t that enough punishment?
I know the people in Tony’s life have talked and discussed, how Tony’s only problem in life was with me.
I can’t believe everyone is convinced that that was enough to make him hang himself. As I keep saying, I know I’m no angel- but I no matter what I did, what I’ve done…. could I have really driven to do that?
The last remaining support I had from people’s in Tony’s life (relatives pretty much excluded here)disappeared when I made the mistake of telling him I’d pashed some random guy a few weeks after Tony died. Boo, hiss, Lori, you terrible slut.
And, of course… there’s the judgments on the sleeping pills, how much time I spend with my kids, even right down to how I treat my dog.
Fuck. Is it any wonder I’m losing my fucking mind here?
A dozen times, tony said to me “If anything ever happened to me, I’d like to think my mates would support you and the kids. No matter what. Even if we divorce, you’ll always be the mother of my kids, my best mate.”
Sometimes,I wonder what his so-called mates think he must be saying to himself now…
“Good work, boys, give that bitch of a wife of mine hell, she deserves it..”
After the pain I’ve already been through.. do you think he’d want anyone to be doing that to me?
One of the many things I was accused of by anonymous commenters who were, apparently, my husband’s good friends, and all seemed to know exactly what they would do if they were in my shoes, was ‘riding the sympathy train‘.
That one still baffles me.
A woman’s husband is dead. She had tiny children. Her husband’s friends have turned against her. And the only support she has is online.
What is it about that situation that doesn’t deserve sympathy?
What was I supposed to be doing, at that point? Putting up a public announcement on my blog saying “I am a total bitch who drive my husband to suicide. Please don’t feel sorry for me or be nice to me.”
Sometimes- all the time, in fact- I know what I should have done, if I wanted to keep Tony’s friends around me.
Shut up, sit down.. and behave, I guess. Sit at home, mourn, still wear my ring.. and don’t dare move on. Fix all the things that Tony said were wrong with me, to honour his memory.
Surviving… literally resisting the urge to slip an orange nylon rope around my neck and jump from my back verandah… it takes all my energy.
Pleasing people, that’s just too much to ask.