39. Pain in my Ass

Pain in my Ass

M ara

The past few days with Zale had been sweet. He was my safe place, my healing place, and my peace. He always had been. He had always pulled me back in, set me back on track, and soothed the ache within.

Over the past year, when things suddenly changed, I’d lost my coping mechanism, which uncovered the illness I had been mostly able to repress up until that point. So many truths were coming to light, including how heavily I leaned on him.

In hashing things out with Erin I began to understand that my inner dialogue voiced a bundle of fears and lies that only I could alter. Even though most of the lies centered around Zale’s feelings for me, he could do nothing to change my inner narrative or convince me otherwise.

There were a couple of reasons I clung to the lies. Self-protection being one of them. My heart was in the business of mitigating risk, and that meant entertaining all tips and theories, discarding none.

Fearful, always, of him wanting someone else, or leaving me, I was forever mentally preparing myself for that eventuality. If I believed in his love and then he left? I believed I’d be destroyed.

Erin was slowly leading me to see the risk I was presently taking by allowing the lie. Being forever wound up and in a constant state of fear and vigilance took its toll on my mental health, and eventually, the heightened stress affected my physical health as well.

I started thinking in terms of risk assessment. Every action had a consequence, every inaction had a consequence. I’d been focusing so hard on not being taken by surprise that I’d failed to assess the risks of my chosen track.

Erin also challenged my belief that I’d be destroyed if Zale ever left. I found that harder to believe, but perhaps I could get there, too. Especially now that I was learning to be my own peace .

Of course, the fact that my disbelief hurt Zale also motivated me toward change.

A second factor supporting the lies was low self-esteem, which is par for the course for anyone with an unstable sense of identity. Here I could make an impact and build a solid foundation for myself. Who knew what the consequences might be if I started feeling better about myself apart from anyone else’s feelings or opinions?

Lastly, the diagnosis of Borderline Personality issues clarified to me that most of the problems in our relationship were due to my condition. He’d never given me a reason not to trust him, yet I didn’t. This hurt us both. He deserved my trust.

In moments of lucidity, I could see this. All of it. However, the illness, when woken, was such that the times of clarity were candle wicks briefly lit and soon snuffed out by the darkness of fear and self-hatred. It was a burden for both of us, but only I could do the work to see where it might lead.

It angered Zale when I spoke about being a burden, but in my mind, and in truth, it was a part of our reality.

All of this came out in Erin’s office.

“I hate that you refer to yourself as a burden. You’re not a burden, you are my life.”

Zale sat leaning forward, elbows on his spread thighs, his linked hands hanging between his knees, his frustration unmasked .

“It is a burden! Saying it’s not, is just refusing to look at the reality!” I countered.

“It is a burden, you are not. Just like my long work hours are a burden, my lack of verbal communication, Olivia’s meltdowns and sensitivities, my stubbornness.... We all have stuff, and I’m not downplaying the seriousness of yours, but would you ever refer to Olivia as a burden?”

“No!” My voice rose and so did his.

“Well, why is it okay to refer to yourself like that?”

“Because it kills me what it does to you, how I’ve treated you in the past, how I still treat you sometimes!”

“Then let’s deal with that piece! And, baby, honest to God, it’s not as bad as you’ve made it out to be in your head! Let’s figure out what I can do, and let’s figure out what you can do. You can’t just expect yourself to do it alone.” He turned to Erin. “I know most of the work is on her side, and her responsibility.” Over-responsibility was one of the overriding themes we’d tackled in therapy so far, mostly due to my feelings of over-responsibility toward my mother, but also in terms of taking responsibility for my own happiness. “Surely there are things I can do to make it easier for her. To not trigger her?”

Erin shone her smile on us as we both turned to appeal to her.

“This is great. You guys are real fighters. You’re right Zale, there are triggers for Mara that you can avoid. And you’re right, too, Mara, other couples don’t have to avoid those triggers. However, they have their own stuff to deal with. There are couples dealing with addiction, cheating, falling out of love, problems with in-laws, cancer, debt, depression, OCD, differing religious beliefs, troubled children, grief, gambling, physical abuse, sick family members, I mean, I could go on, but you get the idea that every couple has their own challenges and their own set of strengths.”

“See!” Zale turned to me looking comically smug and we all laughed.

“So,” Erin continued, “your focus over the past year has been on the weaknesses or fault lines in your relationship. What are your strengths?”

Zale answered immediately, “We love each other.”

I reached for and held his hand firmly in mine.

“We’re committed to each other and our family,” I added.

Zale looked at me. “If you believe that, why are you so afraid of me leaving all the time?”

“I’m not afraid of you leaving.” He started to shake his head in disbelief, but I continued, “I’m not. I don’t believe you would ever leave. I’m afraid you wouldn’t want to stay. I’m afraid you would not want me, or love me, anymore. That you would, just, tolerate me!”

He looked at me. “That is just not going to happen, gorgeous. I promise you. Have I ever lied to you? ”

“No,” I conceded, “you never have.”

We were at a standoff. Him, unwilling to concede the legitimacy of my worry, me unwilling or unable to believe the promise he offered.

Erin broke the silence. “Strengths I see include Mara’s ability to communicate exactly what’s going on inside her, both of you are fighters, your steadiness, Zale, keeps you both on track, and both of you are willing to make changes. Mara also has her sense of humor, you both respect the hell out of each other, you enjoy each other, and you’re both honest.”

We both nodded. “All this is true.”

“You’ve got tremendous strengths. Use them. Tell him what triggers you. Work out how to deal with those.”

“How do we do that?”

“It’s really up to Mara, Zale, to notice when she’s triggered, communicate that to you as calmly as she can, with you responding by moving in closer to her rather than away when she’s distressed. Most of the triggers you probably already know, you probably instinctively tense when the situation arises.”

“Can we talk about that a bit more?” he pushed.

This was important to him.

“Mara?”

Suddenly my lunch was not sitting quite as sedately as I’d like but I answered with a ‘yes’ anyway. This was where the burden of my anxiety lay, the effects on Zale, we may as well get it out into the light.

“If I could give an example, it would be when we go out. If we go out in the evening, say to a restaurant or a bar, where women are dressed to impress, including Mara I might add, she is incredibly uptight, which makes me nervous in case I inadvertently glance at another woman, or worse, if a woman talks to me.”

“When he says, ‘talks to me’ he means asks him to have a drink or dance, flirting.” I could feel the heat in my face, partly because even the thought of it caused me distress and partly from shame because it caused me distress.

“You are visibly distressed just thinking about it. Mara, what are the thoughts going through your head?”

“I’m going to sound so stupid.”

“Interesting that you should say that. Stupid because what you’re thinking is not really believable or stupid because you’re thinking them?”

“I’m worried you both will think I’m stupid for thinking them, and the insecurity they reveal makes me even more unattractive.”

“This is a mental obstacle to your moving forward. You don’t need to spill your thoughts in front of Zale, we all know there’s nothing he can say to dissuade you, but what is it you need from him during those times? ”

I was quiet, thinking, putting words to the feelings inside. “It’s not so much what I want from him, it’s more what I would like to see myself doing.”

Erin nodded for me to continue, and Zale watched me intently.

“For example, a few weeks ago a woman stopped him on his way to the bathroom.” I fidgeted with my bracelets, one from him, one from Bex, spinning them around my wrist. “I immediately started comparing myself to her and seeing her approach Zale was proof that he could have done better than me, and maybe he might realize that.”

Zale started to deny but Erin held up her finger. “I don’t think she’s finished.”

I acknowledged this with a nod and continued. “I feel sorry for him being stuck with me, and I know when other people see me, they also feel sorry for him. I’m ashamed of myself, and then I worry that he might feel sorry for himself. So, I turn away and hide. I would hide my whole body if I could, just drop into a black hole and disappear, when this happens.”

“How would you like to react instead?”

“I’d like to see it as a compliment to Zale and feel happy and secure that he’s mine. I’d like to feel confident, that even if the woman was model beautiful I could just smile at her, agree with her that he’s pretty,” Zale snorted in embarrassment, “and feel … smug …that he’s mine, that he wants to be mine. ”

“Why can’t you?” Erin asked.

“You can!” Zale exclaimed.

They both spoke at once.

“Because the truth is that he could do better, and I think he must on some level know this, like anybody who looks at me knows this, and it makes me feel ashamed.”

“Shame is common in people with BPD. All of this is not going to be fixed in one afternoon, it’s going to take time for you to rebuild your sense of self and shed the shame. Going back to this particular situation, is there anything Zale could do to make it easier for you?”

“He could not act like he has to hide it... even though I know I made it impossible to act naturally for him, knowing I would freak out on him, when he gets nervous I feel like he has something to hide.”

“How would he act in a perfect situation?”

“It would not be a big deal.”

“Spell it out.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, with the woman at the bar, he would claim me, not avoid looking at me.”

“I did.” Zale interjected.

“What?”

“She asked me if I wanted to have a drink. I told her I was madly in love with my wife and carried on my way. It hardly ever happens but I always say I’m married, I always dismiss, I never carry on a conversation, I always move away as quickly as possible.”

“Because you’re afraid of my reaction?”

He looked exasperated. “Because I’m not interested! It’s an annoying interruption in our evening, and, okay, I’m also afraid it will dampen your mood. But, baby, even if you were not there it would be the same reaction. I’m not interested, and it is an interruption. How about when that man asked you to have a drink with him?” His dark eyes glittered. “I guaran-damn-tee you he was more than a little interested. He looked me right in the eye and told me I was a lucky man. I know this, he knew it, too. The only one who doesn’t seem to know it is you. Further, did I hesitate to show up? Show him that you’re with me? No. Mostly because you looked upset,” he conceded. “But believe me when I tell you, I have no problem showing up and stating my claim. I feel confident of my place in your heart. Your heart is mine, my heart is yours.” He took a breath. “So, it may feel like a huge risk, to publicly claim me, to feel confident that I’m all about you, but in reality, the risk is all in your mind, because I. Am. Yours. Because I want to be yours.”

“I’m not nearly as beautiful as some of these women. And I’m chubby.”

“You’re perfect, Mara. Have you seen pictures of Rhys’s first wife?”

“Yes. ”

“Should Bex be intimidated?”

Rhys’s first wife was a stunning, tall, thick, curvy hourglass with long legs, and long, sleek blond hair.

“Maybe?” I hesitated. “Bex is beautiful and slim, but if I were her, I think I would be intimidated.”

“Why?”

“Because Rhys obviously loved his first wife, and Bex is almost the polar opposite.”

“Let me educate you in the ways of men. Some men have a preset physical type, some men fall for a woman, and she becomes his type. That’s Rhys. Bex is his type because she is Bex. I know that’s Rhys because I am the same. You are my type because you are you. My type is Mara Donovan. Period.”

I looked at him with something close to hope in my eyes and he chuckled. “Mara, you’re a pain in my ass, but I love you so much.”

He used to say this to me often and I laughed aloud, bumping my forehead against his shoulder.

He continued. “You bring life and joy and passion to my life. My life bored me to death before you. You are everything. Get that into your head. Please.”

I nodded. “I’m going to try.”

“Alright then.” He sat back.

“You look tired. ”

“Communicating the important stuff has never been easy for me.”

“You guys are doing great. You’ll work it out as you go so long as you communicate, you do not leave each other to fumble around in the dark, and you do not assume you know what the other is thinking and feeling.” She shuffled the papers in her hands, looking back a bit. “So, Mara, in public situations, you’d like Zale to be more relaxed and refer to you openly when a woman approaches him? And you want to respond with confidence?”

“I want to feel confident. And I don’t want him to be nervous. I want him to move in closer to me, show that he’s happy I’m his.”

“Zale?”

“I got it. We’ll need to do some reprogramming but that’s what this whole thing is about, and we’ll be better off for it.” He turned to me with his half smile and his eyes alight. “Want to go out tonight?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Maybe we’ll hold off for a few more days, Zee. You’re funny, though.”

He pulled our joined hands up and kissed my knuckles, chuckling.

Erin smiled. “That sense of fun is a huge strength, too.”

We’d barely scratched the surface of all the ways BPD affected me and, through me, my family, but for the first time since my diagnosis, I had a real sense of hope.

Zal e

Mara was in a good mood after therapy. Olivia was at Willa’s place so they had the afternoon to themselves to enjoy, but there was one subject Zale had to broach before he could do that with her.

“Mara, the situation with your mom, can we talk about that for a bit?”

She sighed. “I suppose we should. I just want to avoid her. Honestly, I want to avoid the whole situation, never have to deal with her. I don’t know if she feels anything remotely close to real love for me. I do know I feel terrible about myself after most visits with her. I do know that she will never give me what I want from her. I do know that I don’t want Olivia subjected to her manipulations. I also know I have to deal with it at some point. Why?” She turned toward him suddenly. “Is she okay? Has something happened?”

“She’s been calling me.”

“Really?” The hope in his wife’s voice pissed him off. He locked it down.

“She’s angry that she can’t get to you, feels sorry for herself. I feel sorry for her, too, honestly. She’s got two beautiful daughters, both beautiful people, and she has screwed herself out of a real relationship with either of you because of how she treats you both.”

“Yeah,” Mara answered sadly, “she also has a personality disorder, probably abused in some way in the past, and she can’t see clear of it to even get help. She’s trapped and she can’t see that what she requires from me is unreasonable. She feels neglected and unloved because of it. It makes me sad for her.”

“It is sad. It’s sad because she will likely never be happy, but because her problem causes you pain and distress, we have to put up strong boundaries to protect you.”

She nodded, resigned, finally, to the fractured nature of this relationship.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just considering options. I want you covered. What would you like to do about it?”

“As much as I admire Willa’s ability to go contact free, I don’t think I could do that. I’d always be wondering how she is. As long as she’s angry, I know she’s okay.” She laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. “And right now, I need to know she’s okay, otherwise my anxiety will be so high I won’t be able to concentrate on my own recovery.”

“You really do feel responsible for her, don’t you?”

“Logically, I know I shouldn’t want to appease her all the time, but it’s an automatic, built-in reaction. I’m challenging it, but it’s difficult, and it’s going to take time. I want for her to acknowledge that it’s not my responsibility to cater to her and let me off the hook. That’s not going to happen, so I need to make the change myself. No matter that it’s uncomfortable. Like Erin pointed out, making new neurological pathways is uncomfortable.”

“I’m here for you in any way you need me to be.”

“What’s she been saying?”

“Mostly the same old stuff, she’s abandoned, neglected, I’m keeping you away from her, she takes no responsibility for her part in situations.”

“Did she ask how I’m doing?”

“No, baby, I’m sorry, she didn’t. It doesn't mean she doesn’t care; it just means she didn’t ask.”

“Okay,” she said, processing his answer.

“How do you want to proceed?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I think I’ll allow texting with her. So long as she keeps things positive, I’ll stay connected. If she becomes demanding, insulting, or manipulative, I’ll take a break. She’ll be angry, but that’s what I’m willing to give for now.”

“Sounds good to me. You need help getting the apps back up on your tech?”

“I think I’ve got it. I’ll let you know when I make contact with the alien being.”

He chuckled. “You do that. ”

They went to The Works by the lake in downtown Bayview Village, then took a long walk along the boardwalk before going to pick up Olivia from Willa’s.

Zale enjoyed her good mood, and the progress they’d made so far, but he worried that getting back in touch with Bea would set her back. His jaw ticked at the thought. Treating Bea with civility would be difficult with his new understanding of the damage she’d done to Mara. However, he needed to concentrate on his role, bolstering her up, learning her triggers and dealing with them, forging his own new neurological pathways to move in instead of away when she spiraled, and keep his primary focus on where it needed to be, his wife.