Monthly Archives: September 2018

The mind killer

I didn’t want to say this last night because I didn’t want to scare anyone, and I’m not saying this now to be overly dramatic, but I’m going to be real here:

I haven’t been in suicidal levels of pain in a long time, and I was there last night.

Remember when I was so sick I thought I was going to die from that kidney infection in April and did go to the ER? It didn’t hurt as bad as last night. But I knew the cause of my pain in April, and I had an idea of what was causing last night. I live in pain daily, but not all days are created equal. Last night was so extreme I wasn’t sure I’d eventually be able to sleep through part of it, even with all the tricks I’ve picked up over the years to mitigate pain… they weren’t touching this. You start to wonder if the only way out of it, is to opt out entirely. The more than normal pain is still going right now, but has deescalated some. I’m not sharing this for pity, but with the attempt to normalize this kind of dialogue. More of us are autoimmune or live with chronic pain than we as a society acknowledge. This hits both men and women, but the overwhelming majority are women. We spend a lot of effort to present as “normal,” to perform and function and “keep up” with the rest of society, if we can even manage that much. We’re already running at deficits when we show up. Some of us cannot manage our pain, and I’m an example of someone who, even if I can manage it most of the time, sometimes I still get in over my head and it always takes me by surprise. My one post isn’t going to do anything, but I’d like to think some shift towards transparency on a larger scale would get us closer to breakthroughs and results. I’d also hope for a more compassionate world, where someone didn’t have to experience this first hand to show understanding and sympathy. This isn’t complaining, this is discussing one more facet of our reality. I see friends bash themselves and apologize for complaining. Stop. Say what’s on your mind and get it out. Sometimes calling out your pain and being heard can make a difference, so keep doing it unapologetically.

Inconvenient Guilt

My mother called me yesterday afternoon to tell me how precious I was to her. She’d been listening to a sermon about loss, like losing a child and some other traumatic events that happen in life, and I forgot the rest. But she said she thought about the heartbreak she endured from losing my sister and then how it all turned around after me. I always feel like an inadequate consolation whenever this comes up, and the one time I expressed that she wasn’t too happy about it and said of course not, I am a wonderful daughter. She points out how I’ve always tried my best and keep pushing despite crazy medical ish or professional hurdles like bosses who’ve tried to get rid of me… and failed. I mean acknowledging that last parts kind of satisfying because I’ve won some crazy things, but I shouldn’t have had to go through those battles in the first place. Life is unfair, and I get it. I cried so much yesterday. I didn’t say anything about it. I had a pounding headache, my eyes burned. I slept a lot last night, it was very restless though. I feel like no matter how hard I fight to distract myself or keep up with my insanely busy life, I keep getting sucked back in… and Idk how mom knew to call right that that moment, but I felt really bad and really good when I heard from her. I keep thinking about the trip next month and driving through SF on my way to Phoenix. Idk if I should say anything. I’ve already said too much. I’ve already crossed lines. If I keep falling where I want to opt out, why do I keep struggling in it? This is painfully frustrating and I am so aggravated with myself.

Another Lie

I was just crying uncontrollably in my dream. You were there, Idk how. I’ve got bits and pieces of having a little girl in my arms and Idk if I was babysitting here but I was out grabbing a pizza and having a hard time holding her in one arm and trying to grab my wallet with my other hand, but was afraid to put her down like I’d lose her. It was a ridiculous juggling thing and eventually I got out of the way from the growing line behind me. And I noticed some of my collectors items, vinyl toys, and some vintage things, some things from when I was a child, and tried to pack some of them up to bring back but didn’t have the capacity for a lot so I tried to pick out what was important and go.

Then I went down the hall again to the front and saw a tall skinny awkward girl with looooong black hair at the counter and said “why is my daughter so much taller than me?” And she turned and shrugged and gave some stereotypical teenage response. And then I saw this older version of her with a couple kids of her own and a husband and it was some weird multigenerational thing.

And then I was laying in bed and you had your back to me. Idk how we got there, it felt like we were in an unresolved fight and there was silence because we didn’t know what’s to do, but we were afraid of losing that closeness, that comfort in proximity. I was hurting so bad inside and I knew you were too. I had my arm around you and was snuggled up against your back, and you finally spoke up and said you didn’t think I loved you anymore. And I tried to speak and my voice cracked, and I was choking down tears when I tried again and said I never stopped, I just forbade myself from contacting you because things were wrong. And after a little more silence you whispered something about instructing me to look at a bunch of flowers, get all of them, the ones that stood out, and that you were designing me a ring. I didn’t know how to respond to that, it felt like a promise I wanted… but it felt like a lie. Maybe it was a lie and this was your way to punish me because you felt some right to revenge. Even though I didn’t know what for, we were both there because we both cared and were both hurting, but I never created the barrier. Because I didn’t answer, you asked me if I wanted to do it instead, like it would ensure this would happen because now it was on me, and that’s when I lost it and started crying. Loud crying. Ugly crying. You’ve seen it before in 2016. This wasn’t any different. This was ugly and painful.

And I just woke up gasping and crying and I’ve just been laying here in bed. You were beside me a minute ago making a promise, and even in the dream I was in disbelief and had to let go of you and turn on my other side to try and control myself, and you were turning to hold me, and here I am by myself crying. This fucking hurts so bad. Regardless of how hard I try to move forward and do whatever I have to do in my life. Whether I talk to you or not. Whether we’re actively in each other’s lives or are suspended it still fucking hurts and I don’t know what to do with myself.

I always wanted you, but

I couldn’t handle a ghost in my life. A woman in Seattle is crying for you, which would have happened no matter the outcome. Happy, sad, relieved, broken, distraught, hopeless, angry, whatever, it’s always the same.

Desire has nothing to do with anything. You’ve brought me years of heartache, you wouldn’t have that power if you were meaningless. That’s the problem, you’ve always meant too much and it’s always been one sided. You never stepped up. My desire doesn’t play into this.

12:55AM

There’s been a lot I haven’t had time to write about, but I need this out of my system.

I still have this awful impulse I can’t shake, it’s like this itch you can’t scratch. I want to talk to you, interact with you, but everything’s so fucking toxic.  This must be like wanting to talk to someone when they’re dead and you know you’ll never be able to speak with them again.  I can’t scratch that feeling off my skin, it’s bone deep.  You’re dead.  You’ve remained dead.  You’ve refused to resurrect in my life.  You will remain there.