My Confession, the Shadow
While he is awake, I am NEVER alone.
He stands behind me while I am on the computer. Calls out my name when I am in the bathroom, as though there are so many places that I could be hiding.
Worst of all, he comes up behind me constantly, peering over my shoulder – watching.
Perhaps all of this “attention” would not be so painfully annoying except for the fact that he’s constantly shooting little arrows. He claims that they are all benign but I deem them to be rather venomous.
Lack of Trust, a Symptom
The reality is that his constant attention is a symptom of his illness: schitzoaffective disorder.
He is paranoid – very. Untrusting.
There is a persistent lack of trust. He does not or can not trust me (or almost anybody with the exception of his mother) even though his fears are without merit.
It is an uncomfortable feeling: being married to and living with a man that does not “trust you” more often than not. In fact, the writing that I do is in secret. I could never attempt a novel or short story because of the limited time I have to be alone and create.
Most of my writing is done in stolen moments or while he is asleep.
Perspective, my Attempt & Art
It must be terrible to live in fear. Never trusting those close to you because of a delusion that is your truth.
Keeping that perspective has become what allows me to remain.
• Forever, or so it appears, we will live in his world of sickness.
• Forever, or so it appears, I will walk on eggshells and have the hollow feeling that comes with loneliness.
Perspective was originally taught to me in college; illustration and drawing classes. How I enjoyed evolving from simple train tracks to abstract art.
It is no different with the perspective necessary to live trapped within somebody else’s nightmare. You begin with the basic skills necessary and, over time, you learn how to see it as art.
Was it Andy Warhol who said, “Life is Art“? Maybe not.
My tolerance for the “shadowing” is an art in patience. The strength that it takes to live so alone: art. Some of the most talented artists of the modern era create hideous but highly acclaimed art.
Looking past all that is happening, whether real or not:
I’ve become the Shadow of myself.