Esalen.

I should be excited. I should be happy and looking forward to five days at Esalen in Big Sur, amongst the trees and healing waters. Happy to see a sage teacher and mentor, and happy to gain knowledge that I can pass through to others via my hands and intention.

I am not.

Today I would rather die. I would rather cry and scream and get rid of the deep ache in the pit of my stomach once and for all.

I fear so much.

It's fear, really.

Fear of my husband reverting to his old ways, calling prostitutes and women to entertain him, and then lying to me about it, until his actions show up on the next phone bill and bank statement.
Fear of leaving my child at home with him.
Fear of not being good enough.
Fear of being in pain because the beds are uncomfortable.
Fear of not sleeping.

It's fear of being lied to by my husband that is the worst.
I have done a lot of good work to not let the uncertainty of the past taint my future.
I fear what I have done is not good enough, because I am so, so scared of being hurt again.

I must remind myself constantly - still! - that I am not responsible for him nor his actions.
I must accept what is present here and now.
I must expect nothing of my partner, to stave off disappointment.

This is what happens when one gets constantly shut down in conversation. THIS is what happens when not allowed a perspective of something that affects oneself and own being. THIS is what happens when betrayed by a partner who tells bold-faced lies when asked about a phone bill or bank statement, or when asked for clarification of what has happened between us that we are RIGHT HERE, at the edge of understanding the reasons for lies.