Mental Health and Recycling [podcast]

Below are some of the highlights to this podcast!

Talking about mental health, going to back to therapy to get some help or a redirect on my mental illness. I thought it would be a great idea, for a redirect or a refresher course on my issues. But instead it turned out to be worse than I thought. I felt depressed and just plain icky after leaving my session. Not sure how much more I am willing to invest in proceeding any further with all of this.

Recycling. My idea may not be a popular one, but I do think that some that it could work. However, is it too late to even start seriously thinking about recycling on this planet?

If you have any suggestions for topics …leave a comment.

And as always,

Thanks for listening…..Laterness People!

The Mental Torment of A Lustful Wife

Spending the NYE with Mr. Sam and it was all fun until he asked,

“Can I see you tomorrow for a little?”

I replied with “are you seriously asking to see me tomorrow?”

“Yes is that ok?”

“No I don’t normally leave my house on Sunday.”

“Ok.”

“Thanks for understanding.” 

He replied “I said ok not that I understand.”

And with that statement I felt fearful. Fearful for how this could end in the future. For one of those men who will do anything and I mean anything to keep me from leaving. Whether it’s through emotional manipulation or physical violence.  He sounded like he may be joking but the truth often comes out in jest.copyright2016@sassycat3000.net, Borderline, BPD, moody, unstable relationships, empty.

I also thought that how I do things so that people will like me, not to leave me and accept me. But the rational part of my brain tells me different. The mental torment in my mind is overwhelming. I also think that it’s so unfair for me to put this all on my Beloved. Because he is the one who will end up “fixing” my fuck up. Borderline people don’t mean to hurt their loved ones its just something that happens due in most part to their impulsive behavior. When the borderline is accepting to feed their ego, things get out of control fast.

I want the sex from Mr. Sam, but not at the cost of my home security. But I still want the sex. To feel the heat from his body, to feel each forceful thrust, to smell him, taste him. I wanna feel all those chemicals released in my brain, to feel high from the sex.

But pain and disloyalty I would cause my Beloved would break my heart. He doesn’t deserve this treatment from me, he’s done everything to please me, to accept me and mostly to love me.

READ MORE ABOUT Mr. SAM HERE

I just have to figure out how to get out of this mess I created for myself. Discreetly, gracefully. And mostly I don’t want to hurt Mr. Sam. He’s a fragile, kind and thoughtful person. He does have a good heart. Maybe misguided, misunderstood he’s still a human being with feelings.

He is hard to get a read on, most men I can figure out rather quickly not Mr. Sam. Perhaps that’s why I cant let him go. The need to find out what makes him tick is strong. Ugh. WTF! Someone just kick me in the head.

 

Examples of BPD symptoms in the above are….

  • The inability to say NO. Borderlines are afraid to say no out of fear of rejection, judgment.
  • Relationships: A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.
  • Attachment fears.
  • Addiction to chaos and drama.
  • Lying and deceitfulness, mixed messages, self-contradicting.
  • Self-sabotage.

 

[I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2017 (2014 Project). I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma].

Insulting & Devaluing Charlie [BFMH2016]

Earlier during the day I had dealt with my ex husband and with Charlie. My  ex didn’t really have much of an effect on me. I only deal with him once a year at our grandsons birthday party. He talks, I talk, he talks some more and I laugh about him when the party is over. BUT Charlie is a different story. When I’m with Charlie or around him I turn into someone I don’t always like being. This time was one of those times.

I had stopped off at the watering hole because my friend had text me that she was there having a drink. When I sat down she mumbles “Charlie is here. He’s playing the machines.” Then another guy came up to me whispering “hey Charlie is at the machines.”Keeping Him Company

Charlie came up from behind me and hugged me, kissing my cheek. I have been hurt lately since I have felt rejection from him the last few times we hung out together. I know he doesn’t like his girls to be overweight. Hell I hate myself when I’m overweight. I have been for the past few months. That’s why I haven’t been taking photos or writing. The mental issues I have hit me pretty hard in the past few months.

Back to Charlie…I don’t know why I treated him so badly this most recent time I’ve seen him. Probably because I’m tired of his lies, mistreatment of me and angry with myself for allowing him to do what he does to me. I tell myself “Not this time.” Then I get caught up in his drama all over again. That day I rode the Fatboy to the bar, a few of the crew had to go and look at it. He walked out with them. I yelled “Don’t look at it, don’t even get near it, don’t touch it or even ask to sat on it.” Why I yelled this at him, is because his custom chopper was taken back by the bank for failure to make payments. He has lost his house, marriage, kids, boat, motorcycle, truck, job…because of the booze, drugs, gambling and whoring around. I had to rub all that in. Why? Because I was (am) hurt. I want him to hurt like he hurt me. He bad mouthed me to his family, they no longer speak to me. He uses me, lies to me. Why? That’s what he does. He does this to everyone, not just me. But I can’t handle the rejection from him. I hate the way I feel when he’s not in my life but I know he’s toxic for me.

I bad mouthed him in the bar to his friends. Something that has always been against our playtime rules. He hates being treated like that, because he’s so insecure on the inside. I know most of his weakness, the buttons to push to get specific reactions. I kept it up. I was running my mouth. Charlie doesn’t confront me like he does his other girls. Those girls get worse than I ever get. He gets physical, verbal with them but not with me.

Charlie kept trying to make eye contact with me. For of the time I refused to look him in the eyes. I know that if I do, I’m done. His brooding eyes have a way of pulling me in to his abyss. There was some small talk going on around us. He sat in the corner with someone in the middle of us. It was uncomfortable for both of us. I really don’t know why I was distant from him, the last time we were together was when I had too much to drink. Maybe because we crossed over the line.

You can read about our earlier time together here.

SpentI couldn’t help but to think about all the lies and bullshit he’s put me through. Telling every one else about his business, but leaving me out in the cold. I was drinking and getting more angry with every sip. Mostly I kept telling about all the lies, how he thinks I’m stupid and wont find out. So with that I started to become mean, vicious and assaulting him verbally both directly & indirectly.

I wanted him to feel the pain & hurt that I was feeling. I just kept on him about how he is just a little bitch. Something I know gets to him, I know he’s insecure inside. He’s that scared little boy with deep scars. I continued to scratch and tear at his scar tissue until he decided to call one of his girls to come pick him up. He said he had to go to his mothers to help her mow the lawn, that’s how I knew that I had gotten to him. His mother lives in a condo with lawn service, the folks in the bar didn’t know that but I do.

He said his goodbyes to the bar patrons and walked out the door. He said nothing to me. His friends looked at me with question marks on their faces. He & I are so close, he would never leave without saying goodbye to me like he did. I yelled “See! WTF?!” As I sat there composed, but in my mind the madness swirled around. He walked back in…”I need to say goodbye to you…I knew that if I left without saying goodbye, you would talk about me behind me back.” The small crowd of patrons around me looked in shock. I almost cried at the moment. Someone said “Yeah she had already started talking about you!” He answered “Yeah, I figured. She can be mad all she wants but we still love each other.” I jumped off the bar stool, turned to hug him “I love you, asshole.”

“I love you too.” he replied.

He walked back out the door. This was the last time I saw Charlie. As autumn approaches his life slowly begins to spiral down ward to a dark place. I heard that he has been 86’ed from coming to what used to be “our bar.” I heard he is back on the street again. I think of him often, with each time I hope I will see him again. Yet, deep inside my soul I know that seeing him again would only bring heartache.

Examples of BPD symptoms in the above are…

  • Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship.
  • A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn’t care enough or is cruel.
  • Urges to lash out; the desire to get even or take revenge on someone who hurt you. You may want them to feel the pain & hurt you’re feeling.
  • Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger.

Post Tramatic Stress Disorder [AtoZChallenge]

May 29, 2004 I was riding my Harley Davidson Sportster 1200 at dusk on an Illinois Phighway with my Liege & daughter in front of me on his Indian Chief motorcycle and about 6 motorcycles behind me. I see a deer to the right of me. I thought to myself “if I can just get past it then it will be ok.”

The lead guy cracked this pipes and that deer bolted towards me. T-boned me at 70 mph. I dragged that deer with me about 20 feet. If it wasn’t for the windshield I’m sure my tale would be different. I tried to down shift but the deer had kicked the keys broke off in the ignition. Bike is shaking hard. The deer still kicking gets caught up, spins around to the left side of me, hits me with the back side and momentum pushed me off-road down into the ditch. I kept traveling, overgrown grass slapping, cutting my cheeks as I pass. LIGHTS OUT.

After three months of being drugged, placement of a metal plate. I started having nightmares. Detailed flashbacks during the night, I became exhausted because I would refuse to go to sleep at night. I would wake up screaming, sweating. I went to my doctor after about a month of this. She informed me I was suffering from PTSD. I was given some medication. Which I stopped taking because I didn’t like the way the drugs made me feel.

May 2009 I was driving home from work in my Liege’s car. I had the green light going straight. A car turning to the right was supposed to yield to the green light. Meaning that after carefully looking for oncoming traffic they could legally turn on a green light without the green arrow. One car turned right in front of me, cutting my stopping distance short. Next thing I felt the sting of the inside drivers door pushing into my body. My body moving forward into the dashboard. The dashboard breaking into pieces at me, BAM. Airbag. Because I have a metal plate across my left collarbone I don’t use a seatbelt. The damage to my shoulder & chest would be far worse with the seatbelt. There was another car after the first one and that one plowed into me.

A trigger is the connection between the conscious mind and a buried painful memory.

 

That traumatic accident had triggered my PSTD. Before I had it mostly under control. However today when I ride my PSTD is active.

  • I have small anxiety attacks when approaching & passing through intersections.
  • Anytime the wind blows hard and I feel the motorcycle sway I get an anxiety attack.
  • I can no longer get the motorcycle speed higher than 60 mph before I freak out.
  • When cars get too close to me.

When my doctor first told me I had PSTD I thought PSTD goes away with time. But it never really goes away, it just goes to sleep until there is a trigger that sets it off. I still continue to ride my motorcycles suffering through those PSTD’s episodes. If I’m riding the bike and get an attack I keep telling myself “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.” I repeat it over & over. I talk myself through it, I’ve only stopped once because I freaked out. I will not allow myself to be a prisoner of this illness if I don’t have to be.

It’s not that the person is refusing to let go of the past but the past is refusing to let go of the person.

 

 

 

The Numbness has Returned [BFMH]

I’ve been busy working on the cleaning of the basement while I’ve been off for the week. I think I have found a few more of my triggers.

Not being able to finish a chore like cleaning the basement. In my mind I can see that it is a simple task.

  • Sort through some boxes.
  • Donate the leftovers.
  • Clean up the rest.

Pretty simple. Right?! Nope. I get all kinds of side-tracked. Sorting through my boxes of books made me cry. I looked through the books, I felt like I couldn’t give some of them away. Others I’ve had since I was in high school. My pile to keep is larger than the pile to donate. WTF?! Emotional

This post was not about sorting books, but how I feel now. I feel like I did when I was a kid. When I felt depressed, full of pent-up energy. I haven’t had sex in over a week. I blame that on myself. A person can not act out with out some form of consequences for their actions. My health suffers every so often. I wanna go to my local bar, see my bartender and drink. Drink & drink some more. I feel nothing now. I want to feel something. Anything.

I want to do a bump in the dingy bathroom. I wanna look at a stranger in that watering hole and fuck him in that same bathroom. I wanna feel something. Anything. I want that high that I’m craving. I held my phone in my hand, I almost text Charlie. My fear is disappointment. If I text Charlie, he doesn’t answer me. I’m rejected and it will push me further down the hole. If I text Charlie and he does answer, we meet for drinks & I get disappointed because I’m not getting the attention I’m craving.

I sit here typing out my thoughts instead of chasing those thoughts I just mentioned. Years ago I would be out the door, maybe that’s it. I feel I have no valid reason to leave my house. Maybe its resentment. He already said I could leave if I wanted to. But that’s just it. If I leave, I’m afraid that I will do something that I will regret later. It’s times like this that I will take a long hot bath, cry in the tub and know that tomorrow is another day.

I guess I want to be in that place where I’m safe, yet the noise drowns out the noise in my head. A place where the drunks talk & I smile politely at them, but hear nothing they say.

I know I make no real mention of my Liege, other than he gave his permission for me to leave if I felt I needed to. He is understanding and said “I don’t want to abandon you, if you want me to stay.” I never beg, ask or say “yes. I want you to stay, when a person really wants to do something else.” I will emotionally close off from him until I feel back to my “normal” again. I will try to do something to keep me from falling completely off the edge into the dark hole.

Disappointed. Empty. Numb. Tomorrow is a new day.

T’was the Night Before Christmas Eve [BFMH2015]

My friend wanted to get a drink and chat after the stressful weekend she had. I mentioned anywhere but there, she picked there. His Blog for Mental Health 2015hangout, the place He & I would hangout together. I hadn’t heard from him in weeks. Since I yelled and told him to fuck off. He wasn’t there when I walked through the door. I was immediately told “he was just here, but he left with a blonde haired chick.” As if that would make me jealous in same way. Most of his friends do know me, say hi to me but that’s pretty much it.

I was pretty busy talking to my girlfriend and two men that had started buying us drinks. I had met one of the men when I was out with him the last time at the family bar. I didn’t see him come into the bar, but I noticed him standing in his spot out of the corner of my eye. Quickly turning my head so that he wouldn’t notice me. My girlfriend gave him away when he was standing behind me, she looked at him with a twinkle in her eye waiting for him to make a move.

I had my body turned facing her, he came up behind me stretching his right arm over my left shoulder to shake our mutual friends hand. When I turned towards his arm he leans in for a kiss on my lips. I was horrified. “Hi Alex, good to see you. Hey babe. I just came over to say hi. Happy Holidays.” He walks back to his side of the bar. I was overcome with emotions. UGH. Why does he have such power over me? Why do I even give him this power?

My girlfriend asks me “why do you let him stress you out so much?

FUCK! I wish I knew so I could stop it.”

It’s in these moments that I think about going back to the counselor I was seeing and trying to sort through the steps of my involvement with this particular alcoholic. We went on with our evening, him on his side and me on mine. I did catch him watching me once. He was looking at me from across the bar, making faces at me, smiling and doing that look with his arms opened wide and tilted head. I told my girlfriend I’ll be right back. I ran over to him and he started to pretend to hide behind one of his people. I gave him a side punch to the ribs.

You punch like a bitch!”

Laughing at me. He grabs me, hugging me, twirling me off the floor and kissing me.

I don’t hit like a bitch. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already are. And why haven’t you texted me? You text all them other putas and share your business but not me. WTF is with that?!”

“You told me not to text you until I was sober or in treatment. Besides you don’t have a phone.”

NOOOO Asshole. That’s not what I said, that’s what you wanted to hear! I said text me when you’re ready for a drink or if you’re sober which ever came first.”

“Why you acting like all those other tramps in my life? You ain’t one of the tramps so stop acting like one. Besides you knew I was here and you chose not to come through. That’s on you, not me. I love you babe, you know that. But I don’t want another tramp in my life. You know where I am.”

As we stood there staring at each other, trying to keep all our tension under wraps. An older gentleman interrupted “Hi, I’m Ray.” Charlie quickly jumped at him. “Why you trying to move in to this conversation? Can’t you see she’s talking to me?”

Ray replies “I thought she was talking to me when she was making all those hand gestures. I wanted to know why she was flipping me off.” I laughed. We had made gestures before I ran over there to punch him.

You bess get back to your gurl.”

I looked at him again,  walked away from him. Sat there with my girlfriend, listened to her conversation with the two gentlemen. I was so ready to leave around 9:30pm. She wanted to stay for one more. I kept telling the bar owner “I’m done. No more for me.” Instead of giving me a full glass he was giving me half glasses. I drank 3 of those while she was nursing her one long neck bottle of beer. She said I’m going to say goodbye to so-so and then we can leave. I said “I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.” I didn’t say goodbye to him. Which normally I would do, but since I didn’t go with him I felt no responsibility to him.

When I arrived home I screamed at my beloved. Not towards him, but it was because I was so hyped on what had happened I needed to get it out of my head. I was upset because I turned into someone I used to be. A person I don’t like being. I always told Charlie that if I could understand his behaviors then I could understand mine. We are only different by private parts. We are two peas in a pod, we know each others weaknesses and strengths. Not a healthy relationship but a toxic one, addicting, dysfunctional relationship. I asked my beloved to help me better understand what is going on in my head. He explained “you’re shadow boxing with yourself. You’re angry because he continues to lie to you, treating you like you’re stupid. And you hate that more than anything. You know he acts like a jealous ex boyfriend you’re just ready to admit it yet. You are just not ready to see what you need to see.”

UGH I hate when he is right, but what’s more important is that he keeps me balanced. If anything ever happened to him I’m checking out of this reality. I don’t believe there is any one that will come close to the sanity he brings me. 

“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2015 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”

My Angry Inner Child came out to Play [BFMH2015]

The last few days I have tried hard to regulate my emotions. I seek the door to exit the pattern that I feel I am stuck in. This all revolves around  “Charlie.”

We had last been out on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. There was a confrontation between him and some guys that belong to a “club” who were upset that he punched out one of their own. It was payback time for “Charlie.” I got in the way of what was would happen of regardless of what I said or did.

He told me he would text me the next day. He promised. “Trust me, babe. Go home. You can’t stay here anymore. I’ll text tomorrow.”

I left. I returned to my normal life. I waited until Monday night to text him. “How was your holiday?

I was getting angrier because he wasn’t answering me. “so this is what it’s like to be ignored or am I in timeout again? Can’t make everyone happy…i wonder what excuse you’ll give me. Lost Phone? Disconnected phone? Not charged? ok. I can wait. I might text you back when you finally do answer me.

Nothing. No word for days. Ok. I must have done something that pissed him off (again). I can’t accept being rejected, abandoned, not by him. There are other people who I can even hold the door to walk out of, but not him. His friend told me about her sister having surgery this coming week to remove a tumor. I thought I’ll text him again, out of concern. A reason to see if he’s still alive. I was trying to control the emotions within me. Keeping them at baseline. This is my weakness, he is my weakness. WHY?! Why are drunks attracted to me? Is it that vibe that I am a closet drunk too?

Last night after I got off the phone with our mutual friend I was running hot. I laid in bed. Do I? Don’t I? What should I say? WAIT. Slow down. Think about this first.

I will use his words to me, back at him.

Still don’t know me?

Waited 10 minutes. Nothing. I thought about “us.” I thought about his issues and my issues. We both can not be rejected. We will do anything to keep that person from leaving. However, we can come & go freely without warning or without explanation. I will push his button.

Ok. so be it. Only two conclusions, no phone or blocked. so you won’t even see this. FUCK YOU. I’ll leave you alone and you don’t ever have to acknowledge me as anyone you know again. EVER.

I muted him on my phone. Laid in bed with my beloved trying to wrap my head around the moment. Trying to keep myself from exploding into emotional instability. H rubbed my back, my arms & shoulders to ease the tension. Relieving the stress my body started to feel.

5Am my alarm sounds off.  I received texts. 45 minutes after I sent him the above text he sends me one back in return.

eye socket  “LOL I know u silly ass. just got my phone back. i lost it somewhere that when i was with you. got it back couple of days ago but been tied up at the hospital with a fractured eye socket from falling down the steps. LOVE U. Just had surgery on Monday at G’s house healing up.” (the photo to the left was included in the texts).

I was laughing when I read it. Ah yes, there are those excuses I was looking for. Yet when I use them on him, he accuses me of lying. We both know we are lying but why do we do it to each other? Fear of rejection and abandonment. Instead of saying “I need time away from your craziness. I need time to myself to breathe.” We lie, because we think if you tell the truth that the other person will leave us.

The other issue is …. HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME LIKE I’M A WINDOW LICKER!!!! You’re a LIAR!

Do I say that to him?! NO. I just play along with the bullshit.

Look at the damn photo and there is nothing that says “falling down the steps injury.” Everything about the photo says “Someone punched me in the face with brass knuckles.”

I returned the text with “OUCH.” I think him being an alcoholic and having a personality disorder like me makes me try to understand his mind. BUT, alcoholics are different from those who have a personality disorder. Mental illness travel in pairs, sometimes even a third is buried just below the surface. Why. Why can’t I walk away.

My beloved told me “because you enjoy the drama from a distance, you live your craziness through him without any of the consequences. But you can’t shovel horse shit without getting some of that shit on your shoes. Now you’re because you got shit on your shoes, you have to clean up.”

WHAAAAA?!!!! He’s so right. We get our needs met through those in our lives. I enjoy living the crazy Charlie Sheen lifestyle when it’s good,but when it’s bad I’m out. I guess I can’t have it all. OH. That’s another thing. Black & white thinking. It’s all or nothing for me. I want all of him, but that’s impossible. I want what the others don’t get or see. I had it once, years ago. I still get some of his dark secrets but who knows if he shares those with others. It’s been years since I had an active drunk in my life. I don’t think they go away on their own. Something has to happen to cause them to leave. I’m selfish, this I know. I want to be the one who stands out from the crowd.

Rest up. Do what you hafta do. and don’t be telling your family we talked. It’s bess I’m left out of your life. Hit me up when your clean & sober or ready for a drink which ever comes first.”

“LOL Why’s that? My family don’t tell me or dictate what I do….ur silly!!!

I want to test him to see if he mentions me to his family. Last time he was mad at me for getting to involved with his business & family. Most of his family dislike me because to the toxic spew he vomited on them about me. Let’s see where this goes.

I didn’t answer that text. I will leave it alone for now.

Blog for Mental Health 2015“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2015 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”

 

Raw [A to Z Challenge, BFMH2015]

R is for Raw.

I have read in different articles about BPD that there is a problem with how the person regulates their emotions. I have heard it described as “People with Borderline Personality Disorder are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their bodies. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.”Emotional

I never really could relate to it until today. Today is the day my manchild, my youngest son left home again. This time he was returning to his own life that he has built for himself so far away from here. So far away from his family, he knows only his co-workers and a few former classmates. Most his family is all up here, in the north.

He left two years ago at the age of 20, along with his dog “Gru.” She turned 12 last month, getting up there in age. She’s hard of hearing, going blind and doesn’t eat that much anymore. I dread the day he has to put her down. He will feel like I do now. I wish I could spare him that, but it’s all apart of life. LIFE SUCKS [sometimes].

My manchild drove away in his new recently purchased car. Trying to fight the overwhelming anxiety and sadness that I was beginning to feel when I woke up this morning. Knowing all a long that he would be leaving, but I thought we would have more time together. I started to gather some of his belongings, I gathered up a bunch of junk food for him to munch on his 13 hour drive home. I tried so hard to fight back the tears that started to cloud my eyesight. I was unsuccessful.

I fought them back long enough to get some photos of all of us, but I still ended up having a puffy face. When it was time for him to leave, he hugged his father. There were no tears. “Ok Momma, your turn.” He hugged me and I lost it. I cried. I cried some more. When we pulled apart he mutters “Thanks a lot Momma, see what you did?!” He was crying too.

We watched him drive away, I walked into the house and the water works started. My Beloved hugged me, guided me to the sofa and we both sat down as he cradled me. It was a beautiful day which made it even more difficult for me to stop crying. A day that both my manchild & I consider as the perfect day for a road trip. A perfect day for a long distance drive with the music blasting and the open road in front of you.

I cried after I thought about that. I cried pretty much the entire day. It’s now 9 o’clock in the evening and I’m still fighting back the tears. I took a shower an hour ago. As I stood in there, I broke down again. Putting both hands on the wall, feeling the cool water on my back I rested my head on my arm and cried and cried.

I feel RAW.

BURNT. As if I have a severe skin burn.

IN PAIN. Emotional pain.

I have not felt like this since I was a child. Even when he left the first time, I didn’t cry this much. When I was standing in the shower, leaning against the wall, I felt my heart pound. It was painful to breathe. Different people were running through my head, thinking of anyone, someone who could give me that “high” that I need to get over this raw emotional hump. My Beloved has held me and mostly just being with me without saying a word, he’s unable to provide that “high.” I don’t know why either. Then I realized there isn’t anyone anymore that I can count on to get me out of that raw state. I have to do this on my own.

I’m just not used to being this raw, this exposed, in this much emotional pain.

I think by tomorrow I will have a handle on this rawness, this emotional pain. I can now understand and relate to the statement I mentioned above. I would like to say that I’ll never feel like this again, however that is (probably) not being realistic. I can have relationships with people in which I try not to get emotionally attached for this reason. I do not want to feel like this, for love or any other reason. My children are the exception to that rule. It’s difficult not to feel something when it comes to one’s own children. These are the times that my emotions are exposed and raw.

 

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