(to preface, can't sleep, clowns will eat me (not really), i'm more than a baked potato and I've had double the "good" sleep medicine, seroquel, but still cannot sleep. this has not been written in sobriety)
breakfast hair puller tried to tell me another date again - he was moving out Sept 1, oct 1, Jan 1. if I could just hold on until april 1. I think he only got in touch with me because he saw me with another man. he gawked at that but I had my gut feelings. he has said dates before. always with the dates and hypothetical questions.
I finally told him that I am worth respect and that sometimes after a person does the same thing over and over again, they decide they can't do it anymore. I told him I cant do it anymore. I told him that i'd always be rooting for him and in his corner. hoping that he finds the strength and self respect that I am looking for on my own self journey - to finally accept that you can't do it anymore and execute. I raced from thought to thought before I got there. I have a special place in my heart for him but really I think he only got there with the help of a mutual friend.
speaking of friends. i've got a friend that i've had since elementary school. we had some years in there where we went back and forth, she was at different live stages than I was because she had her first child in high school. most recently it was alcohol for our separation, I couldn't handle how mean she would be when she'd had Jameson. but - she's sober now. i'm so proud of her! she is very introverted and didn't go to AA meetings but said one day she'd wished she had because she wanted the chips, so I made her chips. after my ectopic pregnancy, I cut her out of my life because she was judgemental and mean about how I got in that situation. it hurt that with what she said, she implied that she cared more about my husband's feelings than my own. what she didn't know at that time that I was also really struggling with him caring about my feelings. I felt very betrayed. she was my best friend, not my husband's.
I didn't realize it then but I think that is when the paradigm shift started. it's not over yet, but I think that was the start of it. oddly enough, when I got to the point of isolating myself, I ended up running into another friend from junior high at work. we picked up where we left off and it was like we'd not had years of gaps. we would say the same things at the same time. our phones - they recognize our voices as each other. we would laugh until we couldn't breathe. inseparable. everything was going great until we joined a lifestyle group - I think she had different expectations than what I did, boundaries i'm not comfortable crossing - and it ended in a fight after a party bus party. we didn't talk for a very long time. we finally broke the silence and were inseparable again. picked up right where we left off. everything was great, I thought. she stopped replying to messages. I wrote to her on every platform. I didn't understand. she started messaging a few weeks later. I thought everything was fine again. and then one day she messaged and said "i'm sorry, i'll always love you and I will never have anything bad to say about you. you're great and I love you but I can't be friends any longer." that was it. 25-30 years of off and on, so many laughs and so many things we'd say at the exact same time. she was my best girl friend. and then she was just gone.
I spent the next amount of time, filing for divorce, working thru things, my lighthouse guiding me along the way. he was the only one that stayed. he's still the only one that has stayed. consistency, for I think around 5 years. I needed him more than he will ever know or ever even comprehend. my brain is complex and he would even sit on the phone with me even if it was quiet. or if I just needed to cry. he still does. he listens to a lot of my tears. he tells me the things that I don't want to hear but need to hear sometimes. he listened to many tears , many sobs and so much grieving about my junior high friend. grieving someone who is still living is the ultimate heartbreak.
I ran into my elementary friend. she hadn't heard about my divorce. I hadn't heard she had cut out the liquor. I hugged her and she stood there stiff as a hotdog like she has since 4th grade (she's not affectionate but will accept it from me most of the time, lol) i've already wrote about her being sober now. we are peanut butter and jelly. we spent last summer learning to kayak and went on hikes and also being in hiding, growing flowers, lavender, and feeling the grass with our feet.
fast forward to this week because I can't have a normal life and I only got to masturbate once. I did get to self tie a bit though and that was very exciting. and I got to swing outside with tricky spring in February weather.
I heard from my junior high friend. its been over a year and a half at least. i'm not even sure to be honest. i'm sure I could find some way to scroll back to see when it ended but i'm not certain I want to read that again. i'm just coming over the grieving hump sometimes - grieving the marriage I didn't have, grieving the marriage I had, grieving my ex husband, my junior high friend, my best dog, and a med change all in the middle of that due to a careless psychiatrist. i'm sure there's more because there always is and I don't remember everything or anything sometimes because my brain has boxed it up and carefully packed it away.
I never understand the people i love that I think love me, leave me in such ways. I just need someone to stick with me. someone I can trust with me, all of me, my stupid ponytail and all. why do they leave?
I talked to a very bright man about suicide today. we were talking about my daughter and he mentioned how suicidal ideation is very common to follow you throughout your life. I told him that I knew because it is something that I battle because of my attempt, maybe attempts. he is going to help me find someone new to talk to for therapy. I tried really hard with the one I currently have. but I told the bright man today, there is something nagging at me and I don't know what it is. I told him about how the therapist was 20 minutes late and he said that just based off of that I needed to move on, especially by the 5th visit and i'm not feeling connected. I worry that I am being resistant. is becoming resistant to therapy like being resistant to some antibiotic or something? i'm not entirely sure. but i'd much rather be known as resilient for fighting the battles in my brain.
You'll never live this life that I live
I'll never live the life that wakes me in the night
You'll never hear the message I give
You say it looks as though I might give up this fight
(never is a promise, Fiona Apple)