And then back

''After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.”

This is another one of those times where I'm sitting down to write because my crazy brain is too busy being, well- crazy, for me to really get a handle on myself and I need to self soothe. Today that will take the form of an advice letter, cause reasons.

Dear knower-of-things,
I'm writing this because I think I need someone to hold my hand and stroke my hair and explain to me how the world can actually be a good place, because I recently had something happen in my life that has seriously fucked me up and I don't know how to fix what's been broken.
Almost a year ago, the man that I loved broke my heart. Or more than a year ago, unfortunately, due to my own weakness and a particularly callous partner it's hard to tell which little cut finally toppled me. He cheated on me. He threw himself at strangers, friends and family members alike and then threw the smoke bomb of mental illness to try and distract me from the fact that you can leave someone who hurts you even if they feel real bad about it when you let them see you cry.
It worked for a distressing amount of time. I became a person that I couldn't respect, I got to learn how many people I had previously loved and trusted didn't return the favor, and I did an awful lot of pathetic crying, but I eventually made the only decision that would save my sanity and walked out and I have seen astronomical improvement in my mental health.
Sadly, if your starting point is 'clinging to life by a thread' then even cosmic change is still a bit thin.
My self deprecating jokes aren't actually jokes. The amount of effort it takes me to wake up and face a world full of people has doubled, if not tripled. I don't know that I'll ever again be one of many, and the few people that I didn't completely write off will not be people that I confide and take solace in.
I walk, I talk, I joke and even laugh but I am not really here.
But believe it or not, that is not my problem.
A while after my paradigm shift, I decided that I wanted to start going on dates. Not dating, not forming personal connections, just going out to a place and wasting a couple of hours and then going home to sleep in my own bed and probably not calling later. I listened to a lot of Marina and the Diamonds. I talked to a lot of different people and saw a few and it didn't go anywhere and it was exactly what I needed to happen at that time.
I got to feel wanted and interesting and not at all like myself and then walk away and nurse my own pathos out of sight of inquiring eyes.
But then I went to a bookstore with a disheveled gentleman who appreciates gothic artwork and recites the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear when he is having a bad day and now I'm nose to nose with the mind killer itself.
What the flying fuck do I do.
No seriously. I am so fucking torn up and spun that I am legitimately terrified and spending distressing amounts of time trying to convince myself not to fake my own death and live out my remaining years as a hermit. When I first left, he-who-can-suck-a-big-bag-of-dicks made some attempts at reparation and I told him, quite truthfully, that even the thought of being romantically and emotionally intimate with someone was so terrifying that it actively caused panic attacks to think about it. That feeling, that pants-shitting fear, has not abated.
Moreover, I don't know how to handle sweetness. What do you do with your spare time when you don't have to constantly apologise for someone?
When someone says something beautiful and nice to you- about you- with no expectations...what do you even do? Because I'm pretty sure 'make a dumb joke' isn't the correct response. Not every time, not forever.

So I've been trying to push aside my own neuroses and use my famous candor to show affection instead of scorn. Somehow it's five thousand times easier to tell someone I think they're an asshole than it is to say 'you're wonderful'.
Beyond even that- I don't trust myself the tiniest bit anymore. Not to make good choices, and not to be worthy of someone else's devotion. I've seen what I do when I feel insecure and hurt- a state of being I've been living in for months on end now- and nobody deserves to put up with that. Seriously, I was never a delight to deal with but this shit is just ridiculous.
How do you tell someone how much you appreciate the care they've shown you while simultaneously warning them that it's an unwise investment? Should I learn sign language, or send a coded message on Facebook?

I'm just...I guess I'm learning that happy isn't a thing I know how to be anymore.
I hope I can relearn before I fuck everything up.

Forward-ish

It's interesting when you can step outside of yourself and see the ways that you've been driven crazy (as opposed to the organic crazy, anyway) - when you can sit back and analyze thought processes and anxieties and pinpoint what exact action in your past caused you to react in this way now. Oh, that deflection was because of your shiny new fear of intimacy, and that self deprecating joke wasn't actually a joke - that's because your self esteem was destroyed when your life partner stated cruising the craigslist personal ads behind your back...

Shit, did I say interesting? I meant annoying. Annoying is what that is.

So I once read an interesting comment on an advice column that I frequent, and it introduced me to the idea of 'The Magical Motorbike to Nowhere', which refers to a relationship that you get entangled in because you are looking for an escape from a life that you feel stuck in, kind of like a rusted motorbike that you buy during a moment of whimsy. 'I'll go on a trip', you tell yourself, 'I'll take this vintage Harley and I'll ride it through every state in the continental US. I'll make new friends and sleep under the stars when it's warm and it will be the most enriching experience of my life.'

It's pretty obvious to everyone around that this pile of tin isn't going to run for very long, but you've imbued it with magical qualities of adventure and freedom, and you will ride that piece of shit until it breaks down on you in the middle of a cornfield in Nebraska.

I guess it may be a bit disingenuous to use that term to describe my marriage, but I honestly can't think of a more perfect analogy. I even had a bevy of friends and family telling me what a beauty the bike was while pointing out the large oil stains on the ground behind cupped hands. 

(What's that bitter taste? )

Believe it or not, MMtN isn't meant to describe a bad decision, but an unfortunate yet necessary one. Maybe that motorbike will leave you on the side of a country road with no cell reception, but you bought it because you'd rather be there than in a cubicle. The experience you have with this sorry motorbike will teach you what you need to know about both motorbikes and travel. Your next trip will be with a vehicle that you know can handle the drive, and the experience to know what you should do if it doesn't.

I'm actually not too hung up despite appearances. I don't hate everyone right now. I don't much like everyone either, but there is no hot stone in my belly. Instead I have a long list of vicious insecurities that I just don't know how to sort out. I suppose when I could no longer fuel that fire towards others I left the embers so they could burn only me.

How does one begin to untangle this heavy bundle of doubts? How can I figure out which of these angry flies to swat down? I can't help but feel as though every errant crazy thought is somehow more valid just because I've had reason to doubt before. 
When do you cross that line, from cautious to paranoid? From guarded to secretive? When I fight my own tongue to say how I feel, am I prudent or pathetic?

Bile

Words really cannot express how I'm feeling right now.

I'm seriously thinking that he must be a golem, created solely to punish me for sins committed in this and every other life.
Melodramatic, I know, but I've basically been in one long anxiety attack since fucking Monday and I tried to drive the hate away, but then I remembered that people who don't sleep for days tend to hallucinate, so I had to head back. To my parents house. Where I am staying. Because he is a fucking curse laid upon me.
Honestly, I don't know what the worst part is - what he did or how they knew. I can't believe that the first person to warn me was the poor man's Travis Bickle. Now I have to feel this sickening gratitude, which should have been aimed at friends, or even fucking family.

I quit at socialization. Years of watching, learning, trying obviously a waste. All of the effort I poured into these people and the only one to do right by me is basically a stranger. It's not fucking worth it.

I'm getting a divorce, is what I'm saying.
Thanks for listening, anonymous Mac user.

Quick heads up

Listening to someone try to justify only going after people half their age is like listening to them in the ER, sheepishly explaining how that lightbulb got into their ass.

Sure, it could be that you are 'young at heart' or that you 'fell'.

But we all fucking know better.

Cause crazy.

    So I have run into an interesting conundrum with my new living situation. I am now located just outside of my 'comfort zone' when it comes to aimless wandering. This is becoming a problem, since I still feel the Need late at night when I'm the only one awake. I get fidgety and anxious, which is not too bad except that it keeps me from sleeping. I can ignore that for a while. The problem is that it gets steadily worse the longer I deny it.
    I start to feel this clenching sensation in my stomach, like a cold hand grabbing at me. Then my teeth begin to ache. The tips of my fingers tingle and then go numb. If I ignore these sensations for too long, my bones begin to feel like they're burning. Suffice it to say, I need to go out.
    The new place is right next to a pretty little lake and walking path. I love walking it during the day. At night, though? When the path is poorly lit and the local wildlife is rustling in the bushes? Nope nope nope nope. I haven't seen a coyote yet, but there are signs posted along the walking path warning of their presence. I also haven't had time to learn the lay of the land beyond that point. I know the road I drive home on, but I'm at a loss on the side roads. I'm unfamiliar with the neighborhoods.
    One of the biggest triggers for my anxiety is not knowing where I am. It's why I don't like driving or being left alone in unfamiliar places. The frustration I feel walking around here is almost as bad as the Need is.
   I am at a loss. I think I may start carrying a bag with a flashlight and a few more weapons. I may also have to do more daytime walking to acquaint myself with all the nooks and crannies of the trail.

   But the sun, it burns me so.

Bit piece.

    I have had a very long day that was not all good and not all bad. All that I can say for it is, as I was winding down and getting ready for sleep, I checked my email and this picture was open on the computer.

       I looked at this and I sighed.

I can't think of a better way to describe me right now.

Yes, I definitely made this because I want to figure out the embedding process on blogger.

   “I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.” 

     This is what I take every day to keep me from painting Bukowski quotes across the walls and barricading the doors and windows.

     On the left are crazy pills. On the right are the vitamins I use to treat the side effects of the crazy pill. (Anemia and lack of appetite, mostly.) I would much rather use the time spent swallowing pills to read or write, because when those actions are combined with a big heaping dose of crazy the outcome is AMAZING and the only side effects are psychological.
    I jest. As annoying as side effects are, and tedious as the pills are, I am much better off. I do not wish to be in the same place I was, and I do want to retain my ability to interact with society in a semi-coherent and safe manner.
    Although, regardless of the medication, I am really feeling the need to trim my acquaintances. I am okay with never speaking to anyone besides coworkers, my husband and my one friend. That thought gets more appealing every day. The visceral rage I feel every time someone I know stops to talk to me in a public place is unhealthy. Maybe I should get extensive plastic surgery so that nobody knows what I look like anymore. Try and talk to me about inane bullshit now, guy-from-high-school-who-clearly-doesn't-remember-my-name-but-recognizes-me-and-wants-to-know-all-about-my-life, or conversely Sprint-guy-who-is-"real-chill"-and-just-wants-to-hang-out-sometime.
    Anybody who uses the word "chill" as an adjective is someone I instinctively want to walk away from. My sister only gets a pass because we're blood, and I've known her for 18 years and blah blah blah.

     Speaking of annoying, which I really wasn't but anyway- Spotify apparently thinks that anyone listening to Mars Volta radio is just really into the 90's and early 2000's.
      Goddamn it Spotify, get your shit together.

    "Hold on, asshole, I need to huff some gasoline real quick."    

VS

"I have soooo maaaany feeeeelings."

    This is unacceptable.