As I flipped through selfies from the past three years for a project, something sad caught my attention – I have stopped smiling. No big excited grins. No quite moment smiles. Just a slow slide from being a somewhat happy person to … this.
I’m definitely in a tough position – living where I’m not wanted. Untangling myself from a damaged relationship has been exhausting as I cope with the day to day difficulties. I’m also scrambling to find a path forward with constrained resources.
I haven’t had much time to process how I feel about all of this. Sad? Angry? Hurt? Defiant? It may seem strange that three + years isn’t enough time, but it has been so much survival mode and waiting for the next blow. More like a series of individual periods of time in between the “edge of the cliff” legal twists and turns.
We slid from a decent detente to a struggle. For example, stage whispers about wanting me to go away don’t take into account why I’m still here. I try to make myself small by avoiding someone who doesn’t even want to look at me, hiding in my room, darting out the back door to feed the cats so I don’t create a problem for myself. I don’t recognize this version of myself.
The core issue is that I believe the 16 years of our domestic partnership should be combined with the 2.5 years of legal marriage for the purpose of distributing marital assets. I cannot survive on 2.5 years of assets – my only income is SSDI and that’s $1500/month.
No wonder I stopped smiling.
This is emotionally, financially, and physically exhausting. I do have moments of joy – being with my cats, working hard in therapy, time with kids in my life, and so forth. Friends have drifted away for various reasons leaving me apprehensive about to keep those who remain.
Then I go the store, pharmacy, or the daily cat colony visit. There’s this moment each time I pull out the key to unlock a door, a small chill down my spine as I catch my breath waiting for the tumbler to click. Every single time, every single day for over three years, I have to relive the moments from 2023. Every single time, every single day, I review my plan to get back in the house if the locks were changed. I carry my ID proving I live here. I physically clutch the keys before I close the door behind me until the ridges leave little marks in my skin. Most recently, I bought an Android tracker to attach to my keys.
No wonder I stopped smiling.
Amidst all of this, I’ve had to craft a private safety net for myself. Begging and pleading with friends to make any sort of monthly contribution. Humbly accepting gifts from people with the least to spare. Wondering about those who have excess, but won’t invest in me. Searching for new support systems to approach, but running into walls of folx unwilling to ask their people. That friction erodes our friendships.
Sorting through the photos from the past 21 years, I see my smile fading. I notice the fake smiles more prominently. I see myself as ungainly, awkward, and unwanted. The difference in photos when I’m with the siblings or friends is like a flower unfurling to face the sun.
I smile when I’m with the cats or the pets of other people – I love pets. I used to smile on pet food pantry distribution days. When a new movie to review came my way or someone invited me out to dinner. I smiled at the Firefly Festival, my only vacation in over three years. I smiled when promised a hotel voucher that I hope still come through. Someday, so I can take two nights away.
Saturday, I went to lunch with a friend and smiled when the server showed me her tattoos.
I smiled a lot when I was young, but that slowly slid from my face as I moved into a darker chapter of my childhood. I look so serious, like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I thought those days were gone forever when I was invited to share that worry with someone for over 20 years.
Now they just want me to go away.
Please give me something to smile about.
Life’s not a song
Life isn’t bliss
Life is just this
It’s living
You’ll get along
The pain that you feel
You only can heal
By living
You have to go on living – William Pratt
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Misquotation attributed to Dr. Seuss, but more closely tied to Ludwig Jacobowski’s 1899 poem Bright Days.
Repeat and rewind – the best way to help me is a recurring monthly donation so I have predictable income to pay my bills over the next year.
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