Drowning out the noises of the world
but mostly those in her own mind.
She wanders, seemingly closed off
from the world, the pain, the questions.
In her bubble she is safe, free
from the clutching demons so desperate
to drag her down.
In her silent escape she comes upon
a field of wildflowers.
They are everything she is not-joyful, vibrant, fearless.
And in that moment she knows what she must do.
So she lies down among the brilliant, swaying petals
and lets them envelop her with their beautiful hues.
She is no longer herself, but returned to the earth once more.
No pain, no noise, no fear.
Just peaceful silence.
R and I are cordial. We talk about the kids, about trivial things. Yet, over the past month everything’s changed. We are roommates, co-parents. Not even friends, really. And the funny thing is we always had passion-no matter what we’ve been through, that was always there. It’s been absent for some time now, though. I don’t know how to get it back, either. There’s a general feeling of apathy on both of our parts. We are disconnected and it breaks my heart. I remember how it used to be and I don’t know how to get back to that place…
I’ve been pretty sociable at work this morning (yes, I’m writing from work), which is unlike me because I’m not a morning person. I was, however, here by 6:40 am so I’ve been here long enough to walk out of my office/cave and interact. I’ve noticed before that forcing myself to talk with others at work helps lessen the anxiety my work creates in me. Work is my anxiety trigger; I seldom feel the need for Valium when I’m home. People need so much here, and it wears on me. I have been here for 3.5 years now, and I’ve felt so worn out these days. I live for the weekends, and I don’t want to throw my life away doing that. Changes need to be made.
The ruminating has been happening this morning. Thoughts of one of the women R repeatedly cheated on me with. I sent her a message on MySpace (where the two of them used to interact), and she never responded. It was after I found out that he was with her many times when he and I were first together (and supposedly monogamous). My message to her wasn’t cruel; I didn’t blame her. She knew nothing of me. She never wrote back. I’ve always wanted to see a photo of her-a face to put with the idea of “Emily” from Guam originally. Seeing her image wouldn’t undo anything. I just want to know. So again I looked on Facebook and there are so many Emily’s, but none who seem to fit the bill. Once I thought of her, I thought of the other women and wondered what they look like. It’s crazy, unhealthy, and I know I should not put energy into those thoughts. Yet, they creep up on me, seemingly out of the blue. Would I feel better if I once and for all knew all the details about what he did with those random women, what they looked like, what they talked about, how many times they were together? Maybe. Maybe not. R isn’t one for giving away lots of details, and I’ve certainly pressed him for details in the two years since I found out. He says he doesn’t know Emily’s last name, or any of their last names. Most of the women were random women he met online, so I can understand that he may not have known their last names, but he was with Emily around 7 times (according to him), so I find it hard to believe that he does not know her last name.
It’s not like I’m going to bother her; I sent her an email and she didn’t respond, so that’s that. I guess I’m just looking for answers; some understanding of why and how he could do that to me. Maybe if I get those answers I will finally be able to let his infidelity go. Or, maybe life will just go on with my good days and bad days and I will have to find acceptance of that. Possibly, some days I will feel more enlightened, wiser, more able to understand the fallibility of humans, and then other days I’ll rage and cry and wonder why he didn’t love me enough to be faithful.
I need to quiet my mind now. There’s just too much going on in there for a Monday morning…
The week is coming to an end (thankfully). Work-wise, it’s been stressful, draining and frustrating. I’ve been on a new antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication and it hasn’t kicked in yet, so my anxiety has been bad. I emailed my doctor on a particularly difficult day, asking if we could increase my valium dosage, or maybe try something else (stronger) because I was having such a hard time of it. She emailed back and said I should come in to see her. I’ve had meetings and trainings all week and will have more next week, and going to the doctor means missing a half-day of work due to my commute, so I told her I would ride it out and see if things improved. If not, then I’ll go in for a visit. My anxiety is totally manageable when I’m not at work. Work is my trigger. When I’m home with my family, sure, there are normal stressors, but my kids are such a source of happiness. Things with R have been so much better this week. We had a long talk last weekend and have really made great strides this week. We agreed on improving our communication, and I’ve also been more physically demonstrative with him, which has made him feel wanted and loved.
So, the week has been full of positives and negatives and I guess that’s just the way life goes sometimes. I would love to one day be one of those carefree people who takes everything in stride. Living with anxiety (mine is generalized as well as situational) is so draining on all levels. I’m a strong person, but the anxiety makes me feel week. I’ll ask myself why things that would not stress out a lot of people cause such stress and anxiety in me. I know that growing up, I wasn’t given the tools to deal effectively with stress. My parents both tend to be anxious and my father always drank to help cope. My mom developed ulcerative colitis when I was a young adult, and I believe that disease largely came from her anxiety. I understand that stress and anxiety affect us physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually and so I want to deal with it and heal. It’s a long process, though. I have setbacks, and then I will get down on myself for it. I do not want to go through my life needing to be medicated. For now though, I will take whatever medication I need to take to help me. It took years to ask for help, so I just need to remember to be gentle with myself.
Diving into the ground again
Pulling the earth over my head
No light enters and sound doesn’t reach me
Numbness is my only companion
There’s nothing to be done
No plans to make
No fears to be had
No smiles to share
No tears to shed
There is only the darkness
And what’s left of me
Until I disappear altogether
R and I are not doing well. We’ve always had an up and down relationship. We had a major blowout Christmas Eve, then managed to repair things for a week or so, and now that respite has been blown to bits once more. He says that I am not fulfilling him sexually. I changed anti-depressant medications because I noticed that once my dosage was upped, my sex drive all but vanished. I’m on a new medication and I’ve noticed some stirrings that weren’t there previously, so that is a positive. However, my lack of interest in sex also has to do with the issues between us. Lack of good communication, lack of trust. Why would I want to be intimate with someone who I don’t feel truly likes me/values me as a person? He will ask me to talk with him about my thoughts, but when I do it almost always ends in a fight. He becomes condescending and defensive. During our Christmas Eve blowout, he even called me a piece of shit. He said I’ve name-called him plenty during our relationship. I’ve called him an asshole from time to time, sure. I also have told him he’s condescending and arrogant (which he is when we’re arguing). There’s something about calling someone a piece of shit, though…
The constant up and downs, the lack of connection I feel at this moment-I’m drained on every level. I had never loved anyone as I’ve loved him, and when it’s good, it is so good. But when it’s bad, my God…it’s unbearable. So is the answer counseling? Is the solution to end it once and for all? Or do we keep hammering it out and try to fix it ourselves? Do I even have the energy to keep trying anymore? I really don’t know. I just want to crawl into my hole and stay there.
My anxiety has been with me steadily, like the beast who won’t go away. For a time now, it’s just been the anxiety. I didn’t feel depressed, and came to discover that the anxiety had been causing the depression all along. It’s similar to what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Well, over the past week, I have felt depressed. Some days I’m just “blah,” while other days I have felt really low. I’ve been looking at old emails from my husband’s account (not legally my husband but we live as husband and wife), one from years ago when we weren’t living together and had no children together yet. He was cheating on me then with numerous, random women but I was unaware. Well, my gut told me something was up, but I had no proof until a little shy of two years ago.
We went to counseling and have tried to get past what he did. So, why am I going back to that dark place and looking at the proof of his infidelities? Why am I tormenting myself?
I believe that people are our mirror, and I’ve been forced to deal with a really angry individual at work. This tells me that I have my own repressed anger that I must face, and that anger has a lot to do with R and how he hurt me so much. I’ll have enlightened moments where I see the situation for what it was-he was self-destructive and drinking a lot at the time, he had no hope in relationships working out, and so he had a secret life. He’s not the same person now, but still…those actions cannot be undone. I can logically know that people do in fact change and grow, but the fear that he’s still deceiving me is there still. I’ve found no proof of anything he’s done wrong since we have lived together. No texts, emails, posts, nothing. But still I worry. I never again want to be in the dark. These feelings create distance between R and I-they have to. I know that for me to dwell on the past is damaging to our moving past it, but I wear the pain around me like a blanket.
My doc and I agreed to up the dosage on my anti-anxiety/depression medication and since I did that, I’ve lost all desire for sex. There’s just no interest there at all. I used to feel such passion for R. No matter what was going on in our relationship, that part was always good. I know he must think it’s because I don’t find him attractive any longer. I’ve always found him beautiful. His job requires him to sit all day and because of that, he’s gained weight. I miss the body he used to have, but he’s still beautiful and sexy. I just feel dead on an intimate level. There’s a lack of connection, a wall. We haven’t really talked about it. There never seems to be enough alone time (I have 5 kids) and our work schedules are different. Plus, he’s just lost both of his grandparents, so I don’t want to add to his stress or unhappiness. So, we go about our days with the proverbial elephant in the room.
I so long to feel true joy in my life. Confidence. Peace. Security. Trust. Love. I try and try to grow and heal myself and I feel as if I keep running into that brick wall and it’s so incredibly frustrating.