Not a single wink

My mind roared through the night like a storm siren. I managed to drown out the wails by finishing the second season of Orange is the new black and a documentary about Bettie page. I’m wiped but I’m wired… wondering if my choices were the right ones over the past few weeks. The love of my life moved 2000 miles away, considering this has been a turbulent yet incredibly addictive, magnetic, beautifully disastrous relationship, I’ve decided to move forward and accept the fact that he’s gone and not coming back. We both know that our hearts beat for no one else but each other, the separation has been less than easy to cope with for me. I’ve cried countless amounts of tears have been absorbed into my pillow. After having something for a brief period that for 3 years I yearned for it has really triggered my fears of abandonment. My ptsd is raging through my head like a like a rabid blood thirsty animal sucking me dry of all hope for happiness. But I suppose that’s how everything works out for me. I get an awesome phone, it’s broken within a couple of days, I buy a car, breaks down within a few weeks, the love of my life moves in, he’s gone in a month. Moves to California. He told me he would fly me there in a couple of months but it hasn’t happened. I’m pretty certain it probably won’t. All extra money goes to levis and the dispensary across the street from his studio in NOHO. I’m happy for him and I’m happy he’s made his dream come true but I just wish we were a part of it because heaven knows being with him is mine.

I started dating a very successful, attractive, intelligent and interesting man. I like him but when thinking of the one who has my heart, and how that turned out, I’m shaking in my chuck Taylor’s at the thought of being hurt. My emotions are just stirring under the surface of my skin like watching fish swim under a thin sheet of ice after the first freeze of the winter. The slightest pressure causes me to crack and the raw emotion comes gushing to the surface. The therapy I’ve been attending has made me even more fragile so I can’t even pretend anymore. So I’m in hiding. Just waiting for the next big freeze so it won’t be so easy to see those fish swimming or until I can keep the spear fishers at bay.

Maybe it’s some kind of karmic retribution. Maybe, I was a horrible person…maybe I AM a horrible person. I know I’ve said some pretty shitty things. I can be a very cruel person when provoked. Perhaps this is my punishment. A life of heartache, loss, grief and frustration. Borderline personality disorder, major depression, severe anxiety, severe adhd, severe PTSD, oppositional defiance disorder… I need therapy. No matter how crappy I may feel now, maybe at the end of it all I won’t feel like I NEED someone around all the time. Just my son and myself. That’s all I should need but presently…it’s torture. As soon as the sun starts setting, my pulse quickens, my palms become sweaty, and I’m overcome with sheer dread and I’m desperately reaching out…more like clawing for attention because being alone just leads me to believe that I’m not worthy of being loved. I feel so stupid saying it, because I know it’s not true. It’s programmed into my brain that if I’m alone, I’ve been abandoned, nobody loves me, blah blah blah… I’m a whiney little bitch. So I started writing. Something I’m not horrible at. Started playing my guitar more, singing more, and although I’m so sick of Frozen I give in, mirroring the movements of Elsa and anna singing along putting on a live show for my little boy as well as dr horrible while listening to my son giggle because these things make me forget that I am 32, never been married,bat shit crazy, and a single mother of an adorable, autistic, insanely hyperactive little boy who makes noise constantly unless he’s sleeping, if he  decides to sleep that is. Although he’s so amazing, my hero, my little musician and vocalist… he intimidates people. As do I. But I won’t make anymore compromises. Accept US completely. We aren’t a perfect family but damnit.   We are very worth it. I’m alive. I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re survivors.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: