If Only

I will mention first that I realize I shouldn't be dating. I am four months out from a suicide attempt, and less than a month out from my divorce... but let me start at the beginning....

"She and I are pursuing a relationship," he told me; She, being his first love the one that got away. They'd kept in touch throughout our marriage and I cannot describe the pain and betrayal I felt as these words cut through me just weeks after our marriage was finally dissolved.

I spent a day crying, pleading, drinking, and hurting and then.... I got back up. I've realized that I have the strength to do that now. Somewhere in this puddle of me there is a backbone; I can stand up for myself, I can brush off shame, and I can seek support.

I started slow but along comes this really great guy, no obvious flaws aside from a heart that's a little broken like mine, not Mr. Right, but certainly Mr. Right-Now someone to put a band-aid on a heart that isn't quite ready to heal. I've been warned against it but it's the next logical step- after I was raped, I avoided sex, now it terrifies me. Instead I'm jumping in, doing something differently and expecting a different result. I am moving forward with the faith that there is strength inside of me that I myself have not seen before.

Walking, just walking the beautiful cobble streets scarcely lit by streetlight with a warm cookie in one hand and easy conversation floating in the air between us. If only this heart wasn't mangled; it might love you. I might fall into the warmth of your eyes and your smile; the soul dancing to the song of your voice.  If only. I would love so badly to break away from my past and love blindly and effortlessly like I once did.
Instead I’ll be grateful, grateful for the strength to move forward and attack my future instead of just being suffocated by it. To be an active participant in my recovery and to take the very thing that at one time would have broken me and instead approach it as a challenge, something to overcome and rise above.

** For those that believe in Karma, the mother of my ex-husband chastised him for even thinking of abandoning his children and I. Though his desire to be with 'her' may outweigh the shame he feels it is still a weight for him to bear, like the weight of all the broken promises and tattered dreams that I'll carry forth.  

PTSD

Anxiety isn’t purely psychological; as if the crushing pressure on your chest isn’t enough, the adrenaline courses through your body making even the lightest touch resonate and the most exhausted body refuse to sleep.  You look at me and see calm, cool, and collected; a woman who makes lists, keeps calendars, and is the first one there for a friend in trouble.  I organize my life because there are times when I cannot organize my thoughts.

It used to be worse, so much worse; it was constant, and physically and emotionally draining. It was an encumbrance on the most elusive parts of my mind, but time passed, memory faded, and my body adapted.  

Suggesting that PTSD can be cured by gaining control of one’s mind is as much an affront as suggesting an amputee could be cured by simply growing back their limb. Instead, management comes with lifestyle change, the recognition of warning signs, the willingness to talk about symptoms and triggers.

My support system fell, my lists and plans failed me, and in that desperate and hopeless moment, I betrayed myself. Tonight I was back in that place, tonight in a moment of anxiety and loneliness I thought again about suicide, how easy it would be… Instead, I’m writing.

I will continue to write through the tears, for anyone who will listen, or for no one at all; it helps me find clarity and sanity, stringing together thoughts and forcing me to look introspectively at my own journey which in a perfect world is far from over, I will rise above my circumstances.

Musings of a lonely mind

  It’s kind of surreal really. I look in the mirror and physically I’m 25, my brain tells me that I’m young; but I look back at so much life experience and I feel like I should be expecting grey hair any day now. Sure I can pull off a little black dress but now that I’ve seen what dating turns into I’m not sure I’d even want to. *Me to new guy*, “Hi, If this works out we might fall madly in love…for a couple of years, but when we break up it will hurt worse than anything ever has and though we’ll try to stay friends there are pieces of each of us that will be irrevocably damaged…. Want to get a drink?” 

  What a strange feeling looking back sometimes, I was madly and passionately in love. The way that the warmth of his hand on the swell of my back could resonate through my entire body, the spontaneity and passion of sex was exhilarating. I really can’t pinpoint what changed, or when that stopped but I know that it did. Everything fell into a routine, but in spite of all of the problems I was okay with that, I assumed that it was what most couples went through while they were raising children. 

  I wonder now if part of the reason I’d fallen so hard for him was the same reason I would have fallen for anybody. I’d just been raped, I felt ugly and scared and all I wanted was someone to save me. It took the simple act of him respecting me when I said no to sex, that was it, he became my safe haven.  I started sleeping in his room (we were both in the Army, these were barracks rooms) before we’d even officially become a couple. He had a couch and I was too afraid to be alone, not just of being raped, but of what I did to myself when I was alone. 

  On top of the horrible thing that had happened I blamed myself, I blamed that naive little girl (I was 19 at the time) simply for being naïve. I used my military issued Gerber and I cut myself, over and over, I drank anything I could get my hands on and as much of it as I could tolerate before blacking out. I punished myself more harshly than the military ended up punishing my rapist. I mentioned before that I was not there to testify at my rapists trial, the reason was that after the last pre-trial hearing I went to, I rolled my car off I-81 at 80+ MPH. I don’t know how much of that was truly an accident but when I survived I’d decided that enough was enough; I backed down, I let him win. 

  In the midst of all this insanity, there was my future husband, telling me the only thing that I wanted to hear, “everything will be okay.” 

  For five years things were not okay, we argued, violence ensued, then things would be better; our pattern erupted time and again until he told me he just couldn’t do it anymore. He told me that neither of us could grow or change in that relationship; I hated him for saying it, but he was right. Since we’ve split his life got simple, all the things that I cared about, like bills and cleaning the house just don’t get done… but he’s okay with that. Me, I’m eating healthy, going to school, putting away some money for a rainy day, taking care of my kids, even building a more fulfilling social life… but for what? 

  There is no easy answer; I’m just looking down the barrel of the rest of my life hoping that if I keep moving forward, keep striving to be better, that someday none of this will hurt so much. Maybe in spite of all my reasons to be jaded I retain just an ounce of hope that there is a Mr. Right out there, a future that I had to walk through hell to get to, but that I’ll appreciate all the more when I find. 

 All just musings of a lonely mind I guess, Goodnight. Xoxo.

 

Lonely & Manic

Insomnia, it’s literally destroying me. I don’t feel well, look well, and certainly it has had a drastic impact on my mental health. I feel crazy, manic, anxious, overwhelmed… I find myself watching infomercials and actually reaching for my credit card. (Ahhh!) Night after night the hours pass and once again the rest of the world sleeps. 

Time to get my brain off the problem

.

I started talking to a guy, Adam. I really wanted it to become a “thing,” not a relationship, more a flirtationship. I wanted to get another person that I could text with who would kind of boost my self-esteem a little. I’m feeling pretty bad about myself these days. I have dyed my hair, painted my nails, I’m dieting; I keep telling myself I’m making positive changes but at the end of the day I am just trying to be okay with myself. Well Adam and I had this great up all night talk about our ‘lost connection’ years ago and then nothing…. Weeks have passed, no texts, no calls…nada. I either need to get over myself and pursue it at the risk of looking crazy or let it go, it’s really been bothering me. 

I did lose a friendship recently; I actually mourned the loss by telling others an ‘old friend’ had died. He is actually alive and well, except to me. He had been my husband’s best friend, a sexy little peurto rican who was forever trying to talk his way into my pants. When the marriage fell apart he saw and opportunity to lay on the charm… his wife however did not appreciate finding the emails containing pictures of his “member.”  In the end he threw me under the bus, I shouldered all the blame and in an effort to save face I told him we should cut ties. I’ve known him for nearly a decade, cried on his shoulder. He rubbed my back when I was pregnant; the ongoing joke was that he was my “second husband,” but I guess when I lost my first, I lost them both. 

I know that this is just a lot of random stuff, but like I explained, I feel manic. My  ex-husband (The divorce was final last week), who remains one of my best friends could keep me grounded, but now I try so hard to come off even tempered for him that I feel like nobody sees what I am truly going through. I talk about hope, I talk about being ready to move on but the truth is I’m just lonely…

                                                             ….Just so unbelievably and unequivocally lost and lonely