The fault line

Here's another song — The Fault Line — from Greg Graffin's American Lesion. I was trying to think of a song that dovetails with this post, and this was the first one I thought of. Considering Greg Graffin was dealing with the aftermath of a divorce when he wrote these songs, I consider it pertinent. This song is about the lines that reveal blame and fault in a relationship (also, perhaps, geography), which is something we all have to sort through when a relationship ends. Let's face it, there are no divorces where anyone escapes blame. While married, I knew I wasn't faultless, however, after examining my marriage from a distance, I've come to see how truly deserving of blame I was. 

It was necessary for me to get some distance before I came to this conclusion. The reason for that is because anyone who lives with someone who is controlling or manipulative is ALWAYS aware of their constant falling short, their failings, their hurtful behavior, etc. There is no wondering because it's always in front of you. I completely fess up to those things. No, I won't name those things, but I see how they contributed to her insecurity and subsequent lashing out at me. While I know she truly had no reason to feel insecure, as I loved her as much as humanly possible, I also see where it caused cracks to open up in our bond. That bond failed as time went on, partly because of my failure to seal up those cracks. The distance was helpful because I don't have that constant blame game running, so I can accurately say where I was at fault.

Another failing was my job. It didn't allow us to spend time with each other and nurture our relationship. For many years, I blamed my job for relationship problems. I know now that was unfair, as those problems didn't go away after I got a new job and could spend more time with my wife. In fact, I think my old job prevented me from seeing just how bad off we were because I didn't have that time with her. Still, there's a part of me that thinks my job was to blame. Maybe if I'd had more time with her, we could have kept ourselves from going off the rails. 

Then there's the fact that when we had problems arise, I often couldn't face them. I didn't have the wherewithal to say, "Hey, I need a few minutes to think about this, and then I'll come back with some thoughts." I often felt cornered and blindsided and I really didn't have the energy to talk about things. I find that, like most men, I'm easier to talk to as I'm doing something (like taking a walk, throwing a ball around, fishing, hiking, etc.), something that doesn't require too much attention, as this allows my mind to get some traction and I don't feel like a cornered animal. I wish I could have had this realization at the time, but at least I know now. 

The reason I gave for ending my marriage was a lack of trust, a trust that I didn't foresee ever returning. I didn't want to live the rest of my life with someone who I regarded as a terror to my soul. It wasn't just the infidelity that caused me to feel distrust. It was financial mistrust. Everyday mistrust. Big decisions, little decisions, everything. I could no longer share my life with someone who could barely change a lightbulb. Her choice in home furnishings was abysmal. Her sense of decorating was just clutter. I had to constantly clean up messes she made, though she complained about my messes or things being left out. I had a very busy job that left me tired every day (or night), yet I came home and dutifully took care of our home and property as well. 

One time, she decided to help me out and mow the lawn, which typically took an hour if we didn't bag the grass, and maybe an hour and a half if we bagged. Well, she ran the mower over the plastic base that the air conditioner sat on, getting the blade stuck in the base. She pulled and pulled and pulled until the blade and shaft were bent and the motor was leaking oil like I've never seen. I got the mower off the base when I got home, but that poor thing was ruined. It was unbalanced and shook like a floor buffer. I threw it out and got a new mower. She frequently got parking tickets and backed into parked cars and things like that. She was just ... a lot to keep track of. But my lack of trust stemmed from my childhood. She just exacerbated it. She came to embody it, in fact. 

My sense of independence contributed to our marriage's demise. I liked being free to do things on my own. I stopped bringing friends home, however, because they were quickly co-opted by her. It felt like everything I had become mutual stuff, which was really just her stuff. My world shrunk and her world increased. This made me angry, and that anger contributed to my marriage failing. 

My sense of self got smaller and she became bigger, and I put more and more into her, which she greedily gobbled up like a hungry amoeba. I became a passive bystander in my life. That was definitely my fault. I should have asserted myself more, made my wishes known more, made more room for myself. Boundaries are good and healthy sometimes. She once told me "there are no locked doors" in our house. Bullshit. I'll lock a door if I want to. Leave me alone if I want to be left alone. Sadly, I did nothing to push back. My passivity contributed to my eventual divorce. 

Most alarming, though, was my inability to take our relationship to the next level, which was children. I think most of that was because I was embarrassed by her. And, well, she didn't want kids until the very end when I told her I was leaving her. There was something just not right about the whole thought of being with her. She and I felt wrong outside our own house. There, we were friends, but out in the world we were a married couple, and it just didn't feel right. I didn't want to be seen with her. She talked to other men in a way that was too familiar. I felt invisible or like an elephant in the room. I wanted to disappear. 

It may seem obvious now, but my own stubbornness contributed to relationship problems as well. The obvious example is when Kate cheated on me the first time. I should have turned tail and run. I'm not built like that, though, and I stalwartly stayed with her even after she continued the same behavior. There are times when it's okay to cut and run. Some things are deal-breakers. When someone breaks a promise to you and abandons your relationship, you are free to do the same. In fact, there is no relationship at that point. All boundaries have been crossed and that person has proven you mean nothing to them. Sadly, my stubbornness did nothing but delay the inevitable. I was not stronger than the brick wall I was pounding on. In the end, it broke me and not the other way around. Another thought is that while it may seem I was simply in love with her and didn't want to let go, I was actually disrespecting her and her wishes to leave the relationship. In the end, we both lost.

That leads me to the final failing that brought about my divorce. That's my depression, which has been lifelong. Obviously, this is a detriment to all parts of my life, and my marriage was no different. Unfortunately, I was with someone who did nothing to help my depression, in fact, she contributed to it. By feeling sorry for me, she let me wallow in my depression instead of helping me find ways to fix it. I needed help. I didn't need to feel like a victim. Saying she was sorry only made me feel like there was no use in trying. She put my truck in reverse when I needed to go forward out of that muck and mire. And I was too depressed to see it. Depression is paralyzing. Those in the mire of depression don't need harsh words or sympathy. They need common sense solutions. Maybe it was asking too much of any one person to help me, but instead of help, I got a shove back into the mire. 

I feel better not being married, as I have only one person's problems to contend with. I feel bad I had to end my marriage, but I don't see that it could have been salvaged. In order to save myself with my sanity somewhat intact, I had to exit that relationship. While I am able to look back at times and enjoy the good memories, I know I made the right decision. I'm better on the other side of divorce.
 
Lyrics:

The sun comes up with promise
And my eyes burn open wide
And the sting compounds the torture
From the vacant hole inside

My conscious recollection
Of the past events all seem
To verify the emotion
That now envelops me

Dogged as a drone
Stagnant as the stone
Weathered and alone
Living on the fault line

There's no one here to listen
There's always room for more
They pretend to give you your say
Before they slam the door

There's very little patience
And very little love
There's just your constant puzzlement
For what you're guilty of

Dogged as a drone
Stagnant as the stone
Weathered and alone
Living on the fault line

No one need deliver me
From such a familiar place
I've come to terms and work
In this ribald downtrodden state

It's subliminal friction
Under a kind veneer
And a form of cold injustice
That keeps me stationed here

Dogged as a drone
Stagnant as the stone
Weathered and alone
Living on the fault line