Diary of an unhinged mind
Thankfully the hangover is a distant memory. My Friday night memories are a distant memory.
I had a couch day yesterday, my body didn't need to rest, but my brain did. I am lighter. I am thinking about the future and now and have to embrace the decisions I have made.
I haven't spoken with P for a couple of days now, he is busy with his kids. I am busy with mine and the parenting life takes over. I hope one day to share that parenting journey with him, to enjoy a pregnancy with a man who is invested.
I have never felt more beautiful and sexy than when I was pregnant. I felt like it was my purpose. I had minimal morning sickness and my personal trainer kept me physically fit and more accountable than I've even been. My husband was distant and weird. I found out after our daughter was born that he had been cheating long term. It caused the Earth beneath me to fall away. He then had a breakdown and couldn't work. We tried counselling, but it was all about how great he was because he was trying to deal with his indiscretions. I got no help, I got no understanding. I checked out. There had been several threats of suicide, there were times he was missing and I had to call the police because he said he was dying and turned off his phone, or the battery died. I have years of traumatic memories that made me cold to him. That made me scared of him.
Due to the circumstances we lost our home and I had to leave my career. I could never forget or forgive that. We separated shortly after when I moved into a separate part of the house. I felt like I had wanted to leave many times before.
A few months after I left I met P. We had a date at a wine bar across from my new workplace. We hadn't met in person. I had never really dated so it was all new. I had seen his picture but thought 'he's not attractive to me', but we met and it was like planets aligned. I felt chemistry the second he kissed my cheek hello. He was so charming, beautiful tanned skin, smelt great. He asked if I would like to extend our drink to dinner, but I had to pick up my daughter. We spent a couple of years getting to know each other, slowly letting each other in. Both very hurt by our past. He had no serious relationship for about 15 years, and I was fresh out of my marriage. I knew the second I met him that he would change my life. I didn't know how, it was just instinct.
It was time limited. He wasn't here long term, still toying with his freedom as a bachelor. I fell very quickly. He started to see that I was open and honest. He started to realise that I loved him. When he left I saw it as my time to let a great romance go. I knew it would be hard to move on, I didn't want to move on.
He realised that he didn't want to move on either, that I was the one real person he felt like he'd been with. His mother, now aging, could see it despite not knowing me. His parents call me beauty. My parents like him, but don't like him. They don't want me to move away. They control me.
I have been thinking about alcohol today. Not in an 'I need to drink' type of way, but a desire to relax and feel the weight lifted off my shoulders kind of way. I don't know what will help me feel that way. Sleep is often my go to, the only way to turn my mind off.
I should email my psychiatrist and tell him I want to change my medication. I haven't taken meds the last 3 days, in an attempt for them to really work when needed.
Hearing I love you had really changed my state of mind. I have longed to feel worthy of the words. I know P loves me, I know it in his eyes, I know it in his touch, but I would always wish for the words. I always wondered why he wouldn't say it. He told me many years ago that saying it would destroy things - and I know that comes from the past. Over the years he would say it's overused, people love bread, people love rain, people love facebook. I knew that it would take everything in him to come to this, and it did, when I was at my lowest. He said I was his property - now we joke about those traditional roles of a man and a woman - but deep down I quite like the idea of a strong partner that I can help to nurutre. I believe I'd be a good barefoot pregnant wife, at home cooking dinner. I digress. He says "you are my property" and "how can I sell you if you hurt yourself". He makes me laugh. He has a shocking sense of humour, and I think many would simply be offended. I joke back and call him "my Master".
We joke that he saved my life a couple of years ago, by forcing me to go to the hospital when I had a deep pain in my abdomen. He drove me to hospital and 12 hours later I was getting ready to go into theatre to have my appendix removed. He waited on me for a week, bringing drinks and pain killers. Changing mindless Netflix shows while I drifted in and out of sleep. He massaged my feet. I remember the first time he ever massaged my feet. We were on the couch watching a movie. I forget the name, but it was Peter Sellars. As he touched me I thought I have never felt this happy in my entire life. My ex-husband flat out refused to rub my feet. I didn't ask P, he just did it. I then shut down. I felt safe, secure and I fell asleep watching the film. Now when we watch a movie and he rubs my feet - I fall asleep. Every time. It is the most blissful time. It's like I can finally relax. I don't let myself relax. How has this turned into a journal about P. I think because he's so far away from me, the good times run through my head constantly.
I am ok alone, but I'm so much better when I'm with him. We balance each other.
When he was here recently he asked why I was lazy to pick up the pile of dirt I had swept into corners of the rooms. In my brain it was because I have to finish other steps first. I cried. I told him I kind of knew it needed to be finished, but at the same time it didn't exist. He said "maybe you will start things and I will finish them".
He could see that something wasn't right, by looking at the state of the house. It was untidy, more and more each day I don't have someone else around. I can't manage it, despite years of trying to. When he is around I am very conscious of trying to keep tidy for him.
I have been in very bad messes before. Including hoarding style depressions. I can't see it until I am drowning. When I was sexually assaulted (younger days) I really found it hard to manage. My mum said it changed me as a person. I don't think that was what changed me. I would say it was the relationship I found after that that changed me - not for the better. I don't have the energy for that today. Later.
About the Creator
Dreams of writing fill my waking mind.
Trying to stay above the words because I could easily drown.
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