Portrait of a Friend

I mentioned that I would shine some light on my relationships with Friend. Pull it all together and give you an idea of how our relationship evolved. This is going to get a little confusing.
I’ve known Friend and his wife casually for about 5 or 6 years due to our group of mutual friends, bizarre hobbies, and shared annual vacation which revolves around said hobbies. In this group there was also a woman I’ve had a romantic interest in for years. Kit. She has a girlfriend (Twiggy). They are polyamorous and have a kind of open relationship. Friend and his wife also traditionally have an open marriage though they are not poly. Kit, Friend, and his wife have been friends for nearly a decade. We have kind of a socially incestuous group.
After I broke up with Boring-Ex (which Kit had been trying to orchestrate for months), I almost immediately became involved with her and Twiggy. I had very little interest in Twiggy because she’s much younger and to be honest, not the brightest bulb in the bunch. However, Friend was interested in her. Friend and Twiggy had a flirtatious and slowly developing romantic relationship over the course of 9 months. I had nothing to do with this, it’s just some back story.
One day at a gathering of our friends, Friends wife had a manic meltdown (She’s extremely bipolar) over some event politics and punched Kit in the face. She screamed at Twiggy that she was no longer ok with her, and made Friend end their relationship. I happened to witness this and at one point had to help restrain his wife. A short while later after she stormed out, Friend was sitting alone on a couch. I went over to him, sat on the arm of the couch next to him and gently placed my hand on the back of his neck. He looked so sad and alone but I didn’t know him very well or know how to comfort him. It was all I could think to do.
When he finally managed to take his wife home, he implored me to look over Kit and Twiggy, which of course, I would have done anyways.
The next day he IMd me and thanked me for my compassion. I was the first person to notice him in pain and provide any kind of comfort to him.
After that we were inseparable. Just like that. We both have an extraordinarily difficult time trusting people and letting people into our worlds. However, the chemistry and connection between us was instant and intense on a number of levels. None of which were romantic for me (not until a couple months down the line). We would chat, text, and IM for 8-12 hours a day.
Every day. For months. Art, religion, spirituality, gender, costuming, science, technology, food, politics, the state of alien civilization as hypothesized by some fictitious character created in our own heads…. We could talk about anything and everything with such ease and acceptance it was remarkable. I have never met anyone that shared so similar a view on the bizarre and varied ideas that I have. We would occasionally have dissenting opinions on things, but the debates that would come of them would be extraordinary and enlightening. Extremely satisfying.
I wouldn’t say I trusted him instantly, but I never had any concern about revealing who I was to him. This was mutual. And possibly a first.
Our friendship quickly deepened and became more intense. After a few months, gradually he began flirting with me, and I encouraged it. Unfortunately there was a lot of drama from the fallout with Kit and Twiggy and this would eventually cause a rift between me and them as well.
As Friend was dealing with the turmoil that was his wife, the accusations and drama from the less than honest relationships between him and Twiggy, and the delusional smear campaign running through Kits mind, I got swept into everyone trying to pull me in a multitude of directions as an objective 3rd party. I refused to take sides because I adored Kit, but I was captivated by Friend.
As things between him and his wife continued to decline (they’ve been on the verge of divorce for years), and as things between me and Kit became more strained (while at the same time I was also dealing with the loss of my best friend in another dramatic side story that involved Girlfriend), Friend and I began to rely on each other more heavily for emotional support.
One night while I was over watching movies with him and his wife, he may or may not have accidentally given her sleeping pills with the rest of her medication. She went to bed early. We’d both been highly stressed, and he offered to rub my back. Just the closeness of him was intoxicating. As the minutes went by he pulled be back onto him slowly until I was leaning against him. He kissed me for the first time. The world could have stopped for all I cared; the rest of the evening was intense and uncontrolled.
Ok. Here’s where things get a little sketchy. He and his wife weren’t technically supposed to be indulging the open relationship aspect after the debacle with Kit and Twiggy because of their sham of a failing marriage and a decision to try and put some effort into it. I didn’t know this at the time. As soon as his wife woke up he told her, which I knew he was going to do. Friend calls me shortly after having a panic attack. His wife invites me over for the three of us to sit down and discuss what happened. I went over; we talked through what happened and what we were going to do.
In a surprising twist of fate and rationality his wife was actually very reasonable about the whole thing, and in fact, didn’t mind at all. She liked me and had been enjoying getting to know me; she just wanted to avoid drama, so we decided to keep whatever was going on discrete. Which we always did.
Here’s where it gets sketchier. Her one stipulation is honesty. Anytime our relationship progressed after this point, Friend was sure to be very honest with her. However, prior to this…. Not so much. We both played that night off like we weren’t expecting this to happen. True, I hadn’t gone over the night before expecting anything to happen on that specific evening… but we’d been flirting (and by flirting I mean it was to the point where he’d been telling me the most intimately detailed fantasies he’d like to indulge with me) for at least a month or two. We both knew something would happen eventually, it was only a matter of when. No one suspected this of me though. It was general knowledge that I had a difficult time with men touching me so this would be the cause for a lot of internal conflict for me… or so his wife believed. Generally this is true. It was not so true in the case of Friend. I won’t lie to you and tell you that I didn’t manipulate the emotions running high at that table to increase the level of sympathy I would receive. I did. At the time though it seemed desperately necessary to keep this intimacy I needed so badly, and to prevent Friend from dissolving into emotional chaos. I was already dealing with so much abandonment and loss between Kit and my best friend, that I couldn’t deal with the thought of losing the closeness I had with Friend as well. I didn’t plan out what I was doing, so much as go with what I felt needed to be done.
To this day his wife does not know about this.
Well, regardless. We had the green light to go ahead with whatever it was that we wanted to do. And we did. For the next 4 or 5 months our relationships intensified. Emotionally and sexually. From sun up to sun down we would IM, text, chat, hang out, and indulge every sexual whim we considered. I purposefully maintained a very pleasant relationship with his wife as well. I didn’t trust her, but the best way to get what I wanted, was to make sure things were smooth with her as well.
At one point his wife had a psychotic bipolar break. Friend had to take her to the psych ER a couple weekends in a row, and eventually she had herself committed. I was the one they called to take care of their affairs while they took care of her failing mentality. From inside the ward she would call Friend and implore that he ‘find comfort’ in me. This is how close to them I was and how much of part of their lives I am.
There was seriously nothing normal about any of this relationship. Any time either of them needed something I was the one they called. They didn’t turn to each other, they turned to me.
About two months later, his wife decided things had to change.
You see, the man she was interested in and wanted to be with….whom she’d had an affair with the year prior… did not want to indulge her anymore. Not that I blame him. Friend and I have always just been friends, sexually involved friends, but we never felt a need to quantify it… our relationship was simply intense. One that was threatening to his wife. This is a morbidly obese, pock marked woman, medicated into oblivion, with nothing but a harsh, abrasive personality and thoughts that are too slow to hold anyone’s attention. Coupled with an extreme manic disposition towards entitlement, grandiosity, self-centeredness and extreme selfishness. She’s cold and shallow and provides nothing to anyone if she is not getting something in return which is why Friend still relies so heavily on me as his only emotional support … it’s not exactly difficult to see why she would be threatened by my relationship with her husband.
Really her therapist decided things had to change because she wasn’t making any decent progress. After she was institutionalized she intensified her therapy, and came to the conclusion that she should probably work on her marriage. She told Friend that her therapist wanted him to stop seeing me completely. I was in complete shock. He refused. Flat out, refused, to give me up. She agreed with him, because frankly, she liked me too. My opinion of her was forever changed though (prior it was still at neutral acceptance). It became increasingly difficult to be around her. Especially because at some point in these talks, she did convince Friend that while we could be friends, we could no longer be intimately involved and we needed to reduce our communication and spend less time together. We went from chatting 8 hours a day to exchanging only a few stunted texts. Do you know how frightening this is?
She wanted what she wanted, and while she couldn’t control all of his decisions, she controlled as much as she could. None of that included any consideration for how things would affect me. From that day the split that started when she told me her therapist wanted Friend to stop seeing me, solidified. Black. Done.
And yes, they were both aware that I am Borderline and have extreme abandonment and abuse trauma.
… Through all of this they forgot (neglected) to explain any of this to me. Or his wife expected him to tell me. All Friend told me was that he wouldn’t be able to talk as much (because his wife would now be reading all of his text messages and IMs – which he also didn’t tell me until much later).
From my perspective, things just suddenly changed.
Then what happened, instead of talking to me, Friend decided he couldn’t deal with his emotional stress anymore and decided it would be best to take some time off from the world. No internet, no phone, no texting, no talking… to anyone. Except of course his wife. I respected his need to fall of the face of the planet and didn’t contact him. I gave him whatever space he needed. But I rapidly descended into a mental oblivion that I couldn’t quickly crawl out of. It only lasted a week before he contacted me, but I was a confused wreck by this point.
When we finally did talk about what was going on it was only after weeks of uncertainty and awkwardness. I had to push the conversation; since he was content to avoid it, and as a result of letting the tension build and build I let him know just how deeply I was affected. I was terrified that the revelation of my feelings would drive him away, though he reassured me it wouldn’t. I also told him I needed some time and space to process everything. Which he refused to give me. He would text me ceaselessly. He refused to give me even a single day to clear my head.
He would tell me, reassure me, how much our friendship meant to him, how deeply he cared for me, that he couldn’t stand losing me…. All things a Borderline needs to hear… even if he couldn’t be with me. He would still invade my physical boundaries when I was over. We would sit close after his wife would go to bed, hold my hand, rub my back… and take comfort in one another, but it would stop there. Maybe he had the capacity to not desire more. But for me this was an emotional torment. All it did was perpetuate the feelings of closeness that I needed, but was told I could no longer have, coupled with the confusion of the appearance that while he was no longer allowed to do it, he still seemed to want it as well.
It wasn’t until a couple months later that I finally demanded he give me a break and stopped speaking to him for a week. Where I nearly dissociated from him completely.
I was now living in a devastation of heartache, confusion, fear, and raging, raging anger. None of which I could show anyone though. People expect Borderlines to Act Out and ‘be crazy’. That’s the stigma. I no longer do this. I Act In. I take it out on myself silently if I can’t be alone. I am very good at holding in my emotions and not expressing them. Eventually though this turns into a dissociated depersonalizaton and derealization which is one of my natural defense mechanisms. To this day his wife does not know the extent of my loathing towards her.
For as hurt as I was, the fear of losing someone I was so close to was even more powerful. I’ve met so few people in my life that seem to accept me fully that I cannot imagine giving up someone like this. For as Idealized as he has been before… he’s been completely devalued in my eyes as well. For months I would sit next to him in heartache and hate, loneliness and love. My feelings for him were in perfect opposition.
Still, it wasn’t until even longer months after this that I finally, finally I established some physical boundaries. I started dating Lady Friend. I broke up with Lady Friend. I started seeing Tech Boy. And things were starting to get easier for me around Friend. Oddly, the more distant I seemed to become, because now my attention was more split from him and focused on other romantic interests, the more he seemed to try to pull me back. He renewed his attention in me. Not that we didn’t still talk every day, but he would invite me over more often, want to do more, invest more in our specific hobbies so we could work on them together, and seemed to try even more to remain closer. He continued to be passive aggressive about whomever I was seeing, but I was feeling better.
That never seems to last though.
Finally, I snapped at him. It’s been a year since our physical relationship ended and I still have unresolved feelings about the whole situation. Much of this is caused by the fact that I still do not think he understands the enormity of what it was that their decision did to me. I can accept that they needed to work on their marriage and all that jazz, but the complete and utter failure to communicate with me… to leave me alone and in the dark with no explanation, was absolutely cruel.
I still haven’t spoken to him since last week, though I’m beginning to feel that I should. It’s odd to feel compelled to do something but have no real desire for it at the same time.
So there you have it. That’s a much abbreviated break down of the last couple years of my life with Friend.
It’s funny how nothing I say can truly capture the truth of this relationship for me. We could sit in the same room, doing our own thing, not even talking, but I wouldn’t feel alone. For someone who dissociates and has a lack of object constancy this is enormous. The simple comfort of enjoying the warmth of someone that understood me was immeasurable. And fleeting. 

Feel free to tell me I should be over this by now. But when an old wound is constantly reopened, it never gets the chance to fully heal. 

Do relationships ever work?

I’m so dizzy I want to vomit.
I won’t see Tech Boy this weekend… again. He’s going out of state to bar hop and see friends. I think I know where I rank in his priorities. He texted me to see if I wanted to go to lunch tomorrow b/c he wouldn’t be around this weekend. I said sure {but over a series of texts} he didn’t need to feel obligated to me or anything if he didn’t want to.
Does this sound overly weird?
Tech Boy: Wanna do lunch tomorrow? I’m not gonna be here this weekend?
Me: Yeah I’m down for lunch. Where ya going this weekend?
Tech Boy: Philly to see my friends for a night. Maybe two, haha.
Me: Cool. Cool. You’re gonna owe me night or two soon.
Tech Boy: Haha I really am… I’ve been slackin.
Me: Don’t think I haven’t noticed buddy haha. It’s whateves. What ya gonna get up to in Philly? Anything special or just chillin?
Tech Boy: Getting into troublelol rabbling around bars and whatnot. I’m a big fan of drinking and just seeing what happens lol.
Me: hah me too for sure.
(after a drink and a few minutes) Me:  I’d like to hang, but we don’t have to do lunch tomorrow if u really don’t want to see me. I don’t want u to feel obligated or anything?
Tech Boy: Now why on earth would you go and say something like that?
Me: Nothing to it. Just don’t want u to feel like u owe me anything. You’re not the easiest guy to read.
Tech Boy: I know… I don’t much like being simple.
Me: no worries, haha.
I also texted Friend, venting “I hate men.” He asked if it had anything to do with Tech Boy.
My response, “All men are the same.” He responded with….
“Okay, Well, You’re my friend, he can go F himself for all I care if he hurt you.”
And I fucking snapped and finally told him, “Right, like it matters. Not like you don’t still fucking hurt me too. WTF ever.”
He’s supposed to be this super Empath that is totally in tune with the emotions of everyone around him. This is his claim. And yet, any time I’m over and we do something  as simple as go to the grocery story, he makes a point of making out with his wife and making a big scene of “I love you” right in front of me. With absolutely no regard for the fact that this is extremely uncomfortable for me. He’s told me himself that he never falls out of love with someone that he has loved. When his wife told him we couldn’t do what we were doing anymore I confessed how deep my feelings for him were. He knows what it’s like to always feel for someone, and yet, he has no concern for how I feel. He also completely disregards this right in front of me face Every. Time. I’m. Over. There.
Fuck him.
I told him all of this and that I was sick of the  hypocritical nature of someone that ignores my feelings for a woman that has admitted to my face that she doesn’t give a shit about how he feels. So far…… no response from him.
Surprise! Not really. My taste in men is tragic.
I hope I never see Friend again. I’m glad I played it cool with Tech Boy. It’ll make things less awkward at work. GF loves me AND wants to be with me. Remind me again why I’m not with her?
 I’m so fucking sick of investing in people that don’t give a shit about me. 

Lucid Analysis – Trials in Therapy

Another night of therapy comes and goes. Therapist is so positive sometimes I wonder if she listens to me or is able to be realistic. Then again, maybe I’m too ready to believe the negative. I expect the worse without hoping for or even thinking towards the best.  Every week she tells me I’m a good person and a good friend, a joy to work with. I hear her words, but I still feel like she must be talking about someone else, some other idea of me that only she sees because I am a bad person. Though the people around me seem to support her to. I don’t know how to see myself as ‘good’, or at the least ‘not bad’. 

Therapist asked about the situation with Roommate. I talked to Roommate a few days ago. She thinks staying the full 6 months until the end of our next lease cycle is very reasonable. It’ll even give her more time to save and be more financially secure as well. That’s a huge relief to me. The holidays, especially December, is such a hectic time for everyone, and so fiscally strenuous, I couldn’t think of a worse time to add more stress. We ended up having dinner together and just spending a couple hours chatting. She also brought up that she wants to hang out more because we haven’t been doing that for a while. I can’t tell you how much better that made me feel. I’d been thinking the same thing, but you know me, I don’t think anyone remembers me when I’m not around, so to hear that she does think about me and wants to hang out more is reassuring. It gives me hope that even when she does move out we’ll be able to stay in touch and that she wants to make the effort to keep me in her life.
Reassurance. I hate that I need so much of it sometimes. I’m always afraid to ask for it. The thought of coming across as needy or clingy grates at me so I bury how much I need to hear certain things. This creates its own problems of self-doubt and loneliness though. Traits that I feel make me weak and bad. If I feel these things are bad, I can only believe that other people will believe it too, and who wants to be around someone like that? So I put on a mask of stone and solitude and slip slowly into myself. And really, who wants to constantly expound on the importance of having a particular person in their life? I’m sure it would get annoying after a while. I just can’t allow myself to come across as the kind of person that needs this. I don’t want to be an annoyance or a burden. A burden. That’s what I imagine having to provide this constant reassurance would be. I don’t want to be a burden on the people I care about. I should be able to take care of them, not a burden when they’re dealing with their own stuff.
Therapist was thrilled that Roommate gave me this kind of validation though. She also noticed that I didn’t seem to be personalizing Roommates reasons for moving out, and amazingly, I realized she was right. Roommate and I are good friends, she still wants me in her life, in no way is this meant as a way to surreptitiously end our friendship, she’s is just approaching a time in her life where she needs to take a new step. I’m going to miss her, I’m still not sure what I’m going to do and I can’t even conceive of living with someone else yet, but at least I don’t feel like it’s my fault and I don’t think I’ll lose her friendship.  
Therapist doesn’t think I’m an alcoholic either. Yay for me. If I were to start drinking multiple bottles of wine by myself every weekend; that would be a concern. If I wanted to stop drinking, but felt compelled to pour myself another glass and couldn’t stop; that would be a definite problem. The choice to sit down and drink, even a lot, as a conscious decision is pretty normal, though possibly not the best judgment. So she’s not worried about that so much, surprisingly, my trying to pick a fight with Friend was. That was what she found interesting. She said clearly I still have a lot of anger towards him that I’m trying to repress. And she’s right. I still have moments where I don’t understand why he would remain with someone like her when there seemed to be so much more passion in our attraction. That he does makes me feel like I must be even less worthy of a person if I rank below that. The displays of affection he/they put on in front of me, is like a constant jab reminding me of what was taken away. It’s compounded by the fact that I have so little respect for the kind of person that woman is which makes me doubt how much I can really respect myself. It’s the power that these things still have over me that really makes me angry. Alcohol sort of releases that cork that I’ve used to help bottle up my feelings. We talked a lot about expressing anger. I don’t often see my anger expressed in a healthy manner. I rage, I drink, I pick fights, I cut, when I was younger I would kick down doors and put my fist through walls and windows. I do have one healthy outlet for my anger, and that’s the gym. Running and working out are at least one way to channel that aggression into a constructive outcome. Therapist had a homework assignment for me but she forgot it at home so next week we’ll see what my formal assignment is. This week I’m to start getting back into my journaling which I’ve sort of let slip. Bad girl.
Med Update: The Pristiq seems to be working well for me. My weight is fluxuating a little, but I think this is more due to stress then the medication. My energy has been really good too. My mood does seem to be a little higher on average. My head is clear. I can concentrate better. I’m more productive at work. And so far it doesn’t seem like I’m having any side effects at all. Except the dreams. I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, but lately my dreams have been EPIC. I feel like I’ve lived days and nights between the time I lay down and the time I wake up.
Then again, that might just be the excessive sleeping I’ve been doing.  That’s been a switch from my insomnia for sure. For the last few weeks all I’ve wanted to do is read and sleep.  I found myself falling asleep at 8:30p the other night! I think I must have turned 70 at my last birthday haha. I’ve been so stressed out from my job and from people it’s all I’ve had the strength to do. I’ve almost completely withdrawn from the world around me, losing myself in the escapism of my books. Except for this blog I’ve shunned tv (not that I watch tv), movies, and even the internet. Therapist sort of dismissed this as needing some down time. I’m not so sure. I’ve been completely incapable of facing the real world. Completely cutting myself off from the outside. As soon as I’m home from work I shut down and retreat into the fantasy world of my books. Or maybe I’m just a little obsessive and this book series is really JUST THAT GOOD. Haha. Nah, idk.  I do feel like I should make an effort to get back out into the world though. Maybe branch out and expand my circle of friends. I still fight with myself regarding how close I should be to Friend. I’m afraid of losing him, but I don’t know how good it is for me to have him so close. I do know that spending more time with Roommate is a wonderful idea though and we are already making plans to do stuff this weekend =)
All in all therapist thinks I’m making a lot of progress. I’m in a pretty stable place, even a pretty stable headspace for me. I do sort of feel like I’m floating though. I’ve had many days where I question what my purpose here even is. I feel like I’m living each day simply to see the next and I wonder if that’s enough. Is that all there is? I’m missing something. There’s a hole somewhere that still needs to be filled to really ground me to where I am, and I’m just not sure what it is.

Memoirs on a Sunday: Weekend Away

It’s been a weekend. Rather a long one.
Friday I worked on my light saber hilts at Friends house. My new ones. They’re coming along ok, but as I’ve never sculpted with this kind of epoxy before they’re taking a long time to get right and my frustration tolerance is  really, really low. Afterwards Friend and I watched scary movies. He asked me for a hand massage which I gave him. He’s, confusing, still. I just, can’t figure out if his feelings for me are purely platonic, or if he still has the attraction to me but is suppressing it because they’re trying to give monogamy a go this year. I don’t know why I allow myself into this place anymore. I don’t want to lose my friend. I can’t lose my Friend. There’s still some residual emotions there that I can’t seem to kick. I may fall of the grid from him for awhile. At least until I can get this under control. Or until I can get it to dissipate completely. It all just kills me some days. His wife actually told me, said to me explicitly, that she doesn’t care about how he feels. She said she knows she should care, in the same breath as she knows she should care about how her employees feel, but traditionally, she doesn’t. “It’s something she needs to work on.” I mean, really? Really? Good choice, guy. Stew in that dysfunction of a marriage. That he would choose that, over someone that actually cares, makes me die a little inside.  Fuck them both then. I need a break.
The heat has been unbearable. I hates it. It makes me extraordinarily angry. Irrational and hate filled. I have no air conditioning.
Nice to meet you
I was dreading Saturday. The Lady Friend wanted me to go upstate with her this weekend to meet all her friends. What she doesn’t understand is that I’m very close to my vacation time so I need every spare minute to finish sewing. I am incapable of saying no. I went anyways. I don’t understand why I’m so averse to saying no. I at least voiced my stress over needing to get stuff done and we compromised to come back early today. Good enough. It was alright. I played the part of the dutiful girlfriend. We went to some great restaurants, went shopping, out for wine tastings (one of the wineries was exceptional). I bought her a really beautiful necklace, met her friends, played pool, drank more…. Or I got them to drink more. Mostly in hopes that we could pass out ‘early’ to hit the road at a reasonable time. Shouldn’t I be excited that she wants to incorporate me more into her life? It just feels like an obligation. She’s very sweet, but frankly, there’s no drama to her. She’s so zen and probably so EXACTLY what I need, that I’m afraid I won’t ever really want it. What is wrong with me? Well, I think the answer to that is obvious.
One thing that does amuse me. People stare at us wherever we go. I’m a very affectionate person. I like to hold hands and sit close and kiss her shoulder or neck and I don’t care who sees. This morning we took a leisurely Sunday morning stroll across the river bridge and the bikers, geriatrics, and random norms all had the most amusing expressions. Occasioanlly we’d get a whisper and a smile… a couple people outright pointed at us just holding hands as we watched the boats go by… at least ¾ of the people we passed had their heads turn just to make sure they were seeing what they were seeing = two women, engaged in conversation, holding hands. Oh. The. Scandal. I’m amused to no end. I kind of like causing the upset. I like that I make people uncomfortable. I like that I challenge what most people wouldn’t even consider contemplating. We live in a progressive world. There are other walks of life that are just as equally valid as the status quo. Consider them. Consider us. We’re here. And I will get in your face about it… even if it’s just being cute and normal and living my life like any other person would.

So finally I got home and did a little bit of what I needed to get done. Mainly, sewing. I’m going on vacation August 5th (warning I won’t be blogging or responding to comments as I won’t have electricity or internet). It’s a big, wacky costuming event and true to my nature, I’m making myself new costumes. I have plenty of old costuming, but I want new stuff and I at least have the patterns drafted and cut out now. Then I made Lady Friend and I a delectable Gorgonzola-Potato Soup before resuming my costume accessory creation.
Finally, I just wanted some time alone. Part of the reason I was dreading this weekend was spending so much time together. I just feel, smothered. I feel like I have to constantly maintain a face for myself that I wouldn’t otherwise have. There’s no time to just kick back and do nothing. I have to be this social, sweet, engaging woman that I know she wants people to see. So I am. I’m whoever I need to be. It’s just, exhausting. I wanted nothing more than to put on my pajamas and curl up in my bed with the white noise of my room fan whirring in the background.
If I want this to last, I have to play the part.  Some days it’s just easier than others. Especially when it’s in smaller doses. These full days, back to back, nonstop, are hard on my energy levels. 

Blood and Bonding

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much of my own blood. 
No, nothing serious. Well, it is, but unintentional. I’ve been getting very severe nose bleeds the past few weeks. I probably lost a pint of blood between the two this morning and this evening. Have you ever held your hands up to your own face and cupped a pool of your own blood. It’s really quite lovely.
I’m beginning to believe I don’t belong here. By all standards its been a lovely day. Woke up with my girl. Lady Friend and I went to the beach with Friend and his wife. Out to an early dinner after.
Spending too much time with her makes me anxious. I don’t know what to do. Don’t know what to say. I worry about not being entertaining enough. I don’t want to entertain at all. Fortunately my nose started bleeding when I was attempting to get rid of my dinner so I had an excuse to cut the evening short. Now I’m just as empty.
I tried explaining to Friend that I don’t think I belong here. He replied with, “Oh stop. It was a good day til your blood decided it wanted out. Which was, admittedly, rude of it.” I realize he’s trying to make light of it, but I wonder if he really understands. I don’t think he does. I don’t connect. I’m removed. I’m alone, even when I’m surrounded by the people I’m familiar with.
I’m at my best when I’m not by myself. With people. But it just inspires a different kind of tension. Alone I can’t stand the room to think. Surrounded I can’t stand the lack of room to, be.  There’s no win.
Last night was, fun. I introduced Lady Friend to my household. She pretty much met all of my current friends in NY, between yesterday and today. Well received. Everyone likes her, she likes everyone. Friend says she has a very good effect on me.
I don’t think he understands that it’s not her. It’s me. I’m playing a game. I’m slipping into a role. A different persona. I’m playing at being happy. Playing at enjoying the company of someone who cares about me. I don’t feel it. I don’t feel any of it. That I recognize that I don’t feel any of it just makes me feel even more distant from all of it.
I’m fighting the urge to hurt myself tonight. I’m not sure I can sustain it even if I did. I’ve already lost too much blood today. Sex, friends, family, beach, relaxing, reading, creativity, painting, meditation, caring… all in one day and yet, it means nothing to me. I don’t feel any of it. All I feel, is alone. Listening to the sky explode, all I want is for my heart to burst like one of the firecrackers I hear outside my window.
She doesn’t drive me crazy. I don’t mean in that good, head over heels kind of way. I mean, I do, but she doesn’t make me mad either. Doesn’t drive me to the kind of crazy that can drive me to hold on. I have her. I know it. It’s not enough. What kind of person does that make me?
Especially as I know I’m just going to keep pretending.
Maybe if I can fool everyone else long enough, I can eventually fool myself as well. 

Art, ink, and anxiety…

I am extremely excitedly. I am intensely anxious.
Not my tattoo
Tattoo appointment is at 1’clock today. Tattoo artist sent me the last few changes yesterday. I absolutely love everything about it now. I feel so horribly guilty that I’ve had him rework things a few times (the original drawing plus 2 alterations). When I went in I was afraid he was going to tell me he couldn’t do it. Then, he said he could no problems and I was elated. I really liked the concept he came up with but some things were off. My stomach was in knots to sit down with him again to ask for some changes. Having seen the differences between the two I could see the perfect combination and told him my thoughts. I was absolutely terrified to do this. I was positive that he’d tell me I was too much of a pain in the ass, too difficult, too SOMETHING, and no longer want to work with me. Tell me to f- myself and take a hike.
Everyone keeps reassuring me that for a piece this big it’s not unusual to do a few alterations. It is a permanent piece; it needs to be what I want it to be.
He’s really a brilliant artist though and I’m afraid I’m insulting him and he’s not going to like me because I didn’t trust his judgment.
I’m freaking out about whether I should be doing this at all, but I think that’s just the pre-appt jitters. I get that for a lot of things because I have time to over think, over analyze, ruminate, let my mind run away with me, go over how things would be nice and normal without the change, but then again how neat this is going to look after. The anticipation before is ALWAYS worse than actually having it done. I’ve wanted this for almost a year now. I keep reminding myself of that. I’m nervous, but I’m over thinking. I need to calm down my brain. Find something to occupy my time, and go.
I’m also very worried about how I’m going to exercise after this.  I know I’ll have to take a few days off from pretty much any non basic movement. I can’t have fabric rubbing on this while it heals. Which means my daily 1.5 hr workouts are not really an option for a while. My body image and fear of putting on weight aside… Exercise, intense exercise, has so far proven to be the best thing for controlling my anxiety and depression.  I’m worried about how taking time off will affect me.
I go on vacation for 8 or 9 days ever year where I don’t have gym access, but I’m walking all day, taking dance classes and performing at night, so it’s not like I’m sedentary. I went to see my parents over Easter and didn’t work out for 4 days. Those 4 days were the longest I’ve gone, in probably 6 years, without some kind of directed activity. Seriously. I sprained my neck a couple years back and in complete opposition to doctors orders I was back in the gym 2 days later. One day off I can justify. Two days I can get by with minimal guilt. Three days I’m hitting the anxiety point. Four days and I’m ready to crawl the walls. I actually feel nauseous and sick if I can’t keep to a regular exercise schedule. My anxiety takes over.  I’ve tried to think of ways to counter this. I know an incredible amount of upper/lower body lifting, abs, pilates etc. that I can do in a manner that won’t inhibit healing, so I’ll be able to keep up with my toning. I don’t know what to do about cardio yet. Ugh.
And finally, it’s Friend’s 10th year anniversary BBQ/Party thing today. I’m fighting with myself on whether I should make an appearance. He wants me there, he’s said as much, that he’ll be sad and miss me if I’m not there. I’m worried this will throw up a bigger wall between us if I don’t go. I flat out told him I didn’t care to see the gift he was thinking about for the wife. Whenever one of them brings up the party I’ve quieted and/or redirected the conversation. I haven’t flat out said I don’t want to be there, but I’m sure Friend has picked up on it by this point. At first I said it would depend on my moods, which is true. Now that I have my tattoo appointment I’ve told him it’s going to depend on how much I’m hurting.
Colliding thoughts:
He missed my birthday, he’s fallen through on a couple things that he said he would do and I really needed him to do. I haven’t. So far I’ve always been there to help and support him when he’s needed it. Maybe it’s time he realized what that feels like. 
If I go I’ll be able to say that despite the hurt I was a good friend and was there when he wanted me to be.  Is this petty? You couldn’t even do these things you said you’d do, but I can be the better friend and continue to do what you want. For the record, from the start I’ve told him it was unlikely that I would be there. Unlike him, I’ve never said, yes I’ll do this, and then not done it. I may be a lot of things, but I keep my word.
He knows I don’t really want to be there, he’s guilting me because he wants me there regardless.
He wants me there. He is my best friend and I do care. Because I care I don’t want him to be upset.
I’m afraid that if I don’t go he’ll be really mad at me. Instead of avoiding awkward feeling s by not going, it will compound them because it’ll be obvious that things still bother me. Driving a deeper rift into our friendship.  
I constantly acquiesce to what other people (that I care about) want instead of doing what is best for me.
I know mentally this is not going to be good for me. I still harbor a lot of resentment for how they treated me. In most situations it’s fine, but it’s going to be pretty much the focal point today.
I’m angry that I still have this resentment.
I honestly do not give a shit about their anniversary. If I go and pretend to be happy for them it will be a lie. I shift between angry and indifferent. Nothing else.
This tattoo is about starting over. Death. Deaths of the past, change, and from those deaths something new arising.  I want to close this part of my life and move on. Maybe this is a good time to start. Go to the thing, and let go.
Remember the woman I mentioned a week or two back? We’ve been texting everyday and we have a date this upcoming week =)
This shit needs to be put behind me.   It’s time to finish moving on. 
Also, not my tattoo

It’s Your Party and I’ll… Do Something Better if I want to

Fuck. So it’s Friends 10th year wedding anniversary coming up in a month. The wife sent out invites a couple weeks ago and I’ve known about it for ages. I’ve been completely ignoring it. I DO NOT want to go. I’m also trying to reign in the venom and not say “you guys are awful, leave me the fuck alone, can’t you see you bother me?”
I’ve been avoiding the whole thing, leaving the room when it’s mentioned, ignoring the inevitable FB invite.
Friend and I were having a day of our usual geekery and philosophical chatting. Out of nowhere he asks if I’m coming to the anniversary party. I ask him when it is (even though I have a vague idea). Two seconds later Wife IMs me and asks if I’m coming. She’s as neurotic as I am, if not more, decided having Friend ask me would be too slow and IMed me directly. Our conversations go like this.
Wife: Hi
Me: Hi Lady
Wife: How’re you?
Me: Was bleh, now better. How’re you?
Wife: Doing pretty well. Oh! Randomly, are you coming to the party?
>> How is this random? She doesn’t IM me unless she has an intent. I know this. If she doesn’t know this she’s retarded. Why the pretense? Anyways.
I tell her it’s still a ways off and it’s going to depend entirely on my moods. I’ve been exceedingly angry lately and I shouldn’t bring that to a party. She says “I’ll put you down for a maybe, even though it’s a probably.” Really? You think so? Unbeknownst to her because I don’t talk to her about personal stuff I’m mostly  just uncomfortable being around the two of them together and I sure as hell don’t want to celebrate them being together. Fuck that noise.
So back to Friend. I had asked him when the party was, he still hadn’t responded so I informed him of the date. Told him Wife’s idea of random was surprisingly not random. To which he responded with, I’m sure she just wants to know how many to prepare dinner for. 

What. The. Fuck. Ever.
She’s neurotic like me.  She just wants to know who’s coming to her party. They’re BBQing for Fucks sake.  I told him it will depend on my moods. Don’t plan for me, I’d show or I won’t. He said… ok. And then that was it. I sent him a link for a fighting school I was contemplating joining because we’d just been talking about this stuff and 15 minutes later all I get is “Neat”.
So I’m sitting there freaking the hell out. I’m sure he’s pissed at me. His silence in response to my, I’m not giving you a definite yes is obvious. He’s mad. Our friendship is probably over. He’s going to hate me. But I’m not wrong! I don’t want to be there so why should I be! I’m a masochist. I know this. But isn’t the point of getting better to not be a masochist? So going and sitting there as they’re all cute is just going to make me all uncomfortable and sting at me. Why put myself through that? Because he’d want me to? I was just all impressed by how well he perceived me at the Sci-Fi Con and then he’s all oblivious today. Either I’m really good at hiding my problems or he’s an idiot. I’m sure he was just asking because the wife asked him to. He’s a guy, he didn’t even remember when the thing was, he didn’t care. But since I said idk it’s a problem. Now he’s not talking to me. He didn’t show up to my f-ing birthday when he knew it was important to me, why should I show up to his thing? It’s obviously not that important to him because he doesn’t even know when it is. But considering he hasn’t spoken to me since there’s clearly some hostile feelings there. Passive-aggressive. So sick of it. I want things to be ok. I actually have thoughts of going just so he won’t be mad. But I DON”T WANT TO! I’m sick of doing everything for everyone else. I know this will only hurt me. Why should I do it to make him, or her, happy? No fucking reason at all. He obviously doesn’t get it, or wants to ignore it, and yet I’m supposed to be ok with it? So now he’ll probably never talk to me again. Or even if he does he’ll be resentful. Pull back and not care so much because I couldn’t do this one thing. Our friendship is going to be over. My stomach has been in my fucking throat since I said I’d show or not. Minute by minute I’ve wanted to take it back, but not take it back. I want that entire minute of conversation to have never happened. But no, they have to push it. Fuck it. I’m so sick of having to make decisions that are hard for me. 
Our friendship is probably over.
Can’t I just do engineering? Quantum Mechanics? Astrophysics (my University minor)? Those are easy for me. No really. I started those things when I was 12. People on the other hand or so bloody hard for me. I don’t know what to do. Except throw wine at it. Wine makes so many things better. Like right now. Writing this? Way easier. 

Ghost of friendship present

Well, there was that.

I’m starting to spiral down again. Have been all week, slowly. Spent most of last weekend with Friend. I was alternatingly irritable, anxious, avoidant, and numb.
Friday, staring at the TV watching Aladdin {of all things?} was all that kept me from bitching at the wife. There’s only so many times I can tolerate being cut off before I’ve completed a thought process.  I shut up, retreated inwards, and refused to look at anyone.
Friend and I went to see Sucker Punch. If you like cute girls in short skirts with multitudes of weapons and excellent explosions and no expectations that it will be much more than fun eye candy and escapism, this movie is for you. I thought it was a ton of fun. The empty space surrounding the beginning and end of the movie though… It was odd for me, before the movie it was like talking to someone I knew a long time ago but now I’m not sure if we have any common ground anymore. I feel no connection to him. Afterwards was equally as strange. I could have been talking to a random stranger that had seen the same movie, who coincidentally happened to like all the same parts I did.
Next day I went over to work on a project. He wanted to bump up the start time, but I hadn’t pulled myself out of bed yet and still needed to go to the gym. I told him I could be over an hour later than he wanted which he was fine with, but sent me rushing around like a mad woman. Hauling ass out of bed, rushing to the gym, cutting my workout in half, just so I could get home, shower, and get over there. Why I felt compelled to rush myself like mad, sending myself spinning in a free fall of temporal anxiety is beyond me. I always do this. I don’t care, but I can’t say no, or in my own time. At least Friends wife was gone. Every time I go over there now, it feels like I’m there for the first time. That I know where everything is, is a strange sort of déjà vu. Everything looks familiar, but I walk in the house seen through a glass wall from the outside in, through a museum of rooms I’m not supposed to sit in. Never be a part of. I’ve completely lost my connection to it all. I’m pretending to be someone I think I’m expected to be. Going through the motions of caring. About {everyone}. It’s exhausting and grates my nerves. I’ll be alone if I don’t. If I don’t act the way I’m expected to, play in an acceptable way – there’s no point being there at all, b/c all I’ll do is push people away.  I could walk away from it all and feel like I was never there in the first place. 
There were points in our project that I wanted to rip things out of his hands. I needed things to be a certain way. That he was doing it and not me, he was doing it wrong, and my stomach kept twisting into knots, tighter and tighter.  Barely controlled anxiety I could tell him to do things differently, though it would have been so much easier to just do it myself, but I’m trying to act inclusive so I don’t. Finally we finished up and I was actually pretty happy with the results, but then…
I had nothing to focus my attention on. I had rushed out of my house so fast that I forgot all my stuff to distract me with. I just felt blank. Blank and out of place. I wanted to go home and get my stuff but then there wouldn’t have been any point coming back and I didn’t want to not be there. I didn’t necessarily want to be there either, but spending the rest of the day/night alone was not acceptable. I just, couldn’t leave. It made me anxious to stay, anxious to go. Stuck. Stuck. Split. Without other things to do I felt like I would have no excuse but to interact. I don’t know why this bothered me so much. I needed something else to focus on that wasn’t directly interacting with him, which is stupid b/c {essentially} it was just me and him. Hyper aware of when we sit to close. Usually touching someone is grounding for me, even just feet touching curled up on opposite ends of the couch. A physical connection that brings me back down to earth. Not now. Trying to hold onto a shadow of something sitting further off into the light. I did what I would normally do all day and didn’t feel attached to any of it. My Self floating and drifting somewhere outside of me. Everything dizzy and slightly surreal.
I get so sick of feeling like this.
I left rather abruptly. As soon as I left the house though my energy started to ramp up. By the time I got home I was much too hyper than a 10 minute drive should allot for. 
My therapist says I’ve detached from my emotions. I can’t have completely because the irritation, anger and anxiety are still there. I don’t know how to get back. I want to have functional friendships. I can see myself pushing away, but refusing to let go.
Maybe if I keep trying, keep pretending like everything is normal, I’ll eventually convince myself that it is. Delusional. This never works. All it does is work to make me lose myself more. I am the only one I truly need to hold onto.
The next day I did stuff I knew I was supposed to do but slightly detached from everything. Wine helps, even though I know it shouldn’t. This week though I’ve been ok, but I feel myself slowly sinking. It’s getting harder and harder to drag myself out of bed again. I feel weighted by invisible hands holding my head down. Suffocating on the very air I need to breathe. Don’t want it, can’t live without it.

I’m defective.

Spiral out, Keep going.
Spiral out, Keep going.
Spiral out, Keep going.

Love or Obsession

Not a bad day at all.
Very productive day at work. Even though my mind kept flitting around. I’d start a design project, look back at the clock and it would be an hour later, my mind lost in day dreams and fantasy (you don’t want to know. Or maybe you do).
The night is winding down, or should be, and my energy is ramping up. 2 hours of sleep last night. Too little sleep. Too much energy. Too many thoughts. Too much to say. up, Up, UP. Everything moves too slow. Can’t keep up with how my brain bounces back and forth. 
I think I finally tossed my therapist for a whirl tonight. She asked me about Friend and how I was dealing since I stopped talking to him. I’m fine. I freaked the hell out the night I released my thoughts to him and told him to stop contacting me. I woke up the next day, and everything was different. I felt practically nothing. For the next few days I didn’t look at my phone, didn’t turn on my instant messenger, didn’t worry, had no anxiety at all about not speaking to him. I felt almost at peace. By Friday I’d turned my IM back on but other than a few hours of mild anxiety knotting in my stomach for fear he’d IM me, I was fine. Though in all honesty I turned it on so he’d see me and remember me and know that it was my choice to not speak to him. Miss that, fucker.
Which apparently he did.
Finally started speaking to him again. I feel nothing. It’s familiar, but I have no hopeful anticipation. No missed longing. He told me flat out he still desires me the last time we spoke, but I made my choice and now I feel nothing in that regard. My therapist says she’s not questioning it. It’s pretty obvious I’ve dissociated from the entire thing, but in a way that is almost contented. Hey, it’s a defense mechanism, let it get defensive. As long as it works.
It’s so weird. I’ve been insane, emotionally wracked and destroyed. For months. I make a decision… and it’s done. Like breaking a spell.
This made me giggle
It makes me question: Do I fall in love? Or do I fall into obsession? 
My emotions are so extreme, so volatile. I can’t stop thinking about things, creating scenerios, paths that actions could take, how I want things to be, how they should be…. Convince myself that I’ll never be happy unless I have exactly that…. Until I no longer want it.
I think the uncertainty is the most maddening. With no clear decision, there is no clear way to be, to act, to identify. Lost in the confusion the madness takes hold and spins me down an endless spiral of depression and anxiety. In making a decision, I can regain my composure and sense of self.
It took me all of two days {less really} to remember that I don’t need him, or anyone else, to hold my hand and walk with me through this life.
It took me weeks, months (this after years), to remember that I would be fine without Evil-ex*** and I lived with him. I know my feelings for him were tragic but I was beside myself with fear and anxiety that I would be without him. My life was consumed with him and everything we did was entangled. More so that I would have to face him and not be with him. Until I remembered what life was like without him. Fun, easy, comfortable, not filled with tension and horrible, but it took some time. Maybe not much, a couple weeks, but there was a period of adjustment.
I was starting to feel this way with Friend, this fear of not having him. I finally forced myself away and as soon as I made the decision, it stopped. The craze, the madness, the rumination, the obsession. Gone. That there was no transition period, no getting used to this new state, no time of adjustment, and now no feeling… it’s disconcerting.
Do I understand myself at all? If I shut down and turn off like this, were the things I felt before even real?
I have no personal attachments now. In a romantic/sexual sense. I’m calm. It’s not until I get involved, emotionally, with someone that it drives me crazy. I should take note of that.
My therapist was utterly thrown. I could see it in her eyes and the way she wavered. Especially when I actually said I wasn’t sure if I knew the difference between love and obsession. Sometimes I think she’s too positive. She wants the best for me, but maybe at the expense of seeing me as I really am. I haven’t been seeing her that long though. I’m just starting to really open up in ways she hasn’t seen yet.
She thinks now that I’m in therapy I’ll be able to make better choices into the future. That I’ll be able to learn from this. See the things I want, not settle for the things that I don’t. Choose the ones that are better for me. I told her I’ve seen these things before and yet… I still make shitty decisions. I still make the same mistakes. I want to see what I want to see, but it’s only a mirage. I need to be able to see what is actually there and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to.
I’m a little drunk currently, but I want to remember to look more into love vs. obsession later. 
*** Of course, he finally broke down and begged me to come back, which I did like a fool. Obsession goes both ways. 

It can stop now. Please?

Hard decisions are hard. Everything hurts. I’m so tired of everything hurting. 
Realized my time marker was mid-April not mid-March. Can’t wait that long with everything eating away at my insides. Told Friend everything that has been crushing me. Tearing me apart. It went exactly as I expected it to, and not as I wanted. That, I have to accept. Doesn’t make it hurt less. He’s not in love with me, which I knew. He does love me. Go to the ends of the earth for me, closest confidant and friend, blah blah blah. Doesn’t want to lose me. I told him I need him to stay away from me. I need space for a while.
::tears:: I hate how everything keeps changing. And I’m still left alone. I just want something to stay. It feels so cruel to me to have so much and then to have it change so suddenly. I just, can’t. I don’t know how to deal with this. Is like someone reached through my ribs, grabbed my stomach and twisted it up into my throat.

I get so invested. So attached. I don’t know how to not.

I needed to do this. I was so angry this weekend. Both him and his wife were texting me like mad to come over and worried that I wasn’t well. She wanted me to come over for dinner Sunday. I fought with myself and tried to excuse myself by telling her I was off food again (Cleanse, not a random fit of anorexia). She said she they really just wanted my company. ::sigh:: So what do I do? I make a pie. Homemade, from scratch, my own recipe that I’ve worked on for years and is the pinnacle of perfect, 2.5 hours, Dutch Crumble Apple Pie. Last week it was Chocolate French Silk.  I don’t know why I do this. Baking and cooking is one of my ultimate distraction techniques.  It’s a running joke that I make multi course gourmet meals, stunning, that I don’t eat. ::headdesk:: I was uncomfortable, couldn’t even look at them hardly, couldn’t even pretend anymore. No false smiles, no jokes… Though finding out that Bitter Melon was made of hate, did make me laugh out loud… left early, drove through the rain longer than I had to. Fitting.
Rage. He’s all understanding and infuriating. How am I supposed to stay mad when people are all caring? Fuck.
I was furious all weekend. Today I was calm enough to collect my thoughts but bordered on detached.  I should have felt something, a release, some relief, but I didn’t. Just a low dread waiting for the repercussions… which didn’t come? He really is a good friend. I’m crazy. Crazy people don’t get real relationships (this completely is not true, my rational brain knows this but it’s how I feel right now). I get, understanding? Which probably just hurt worse because for as wonderful and beautiful as he tells me I am, still not good enough. Heartache and hurt… and then nothing. Well, I have a mild headache but I think that’s from not having solid food for the last four days. And sleep, I should probably sleep.
Nothing. Damn. I hate that. Flip switch to not feeling is bizarre. One minute I want to curl up in bed, the next I can chat with Roommate and appear to be just fine. Except for the feeling like I’m floating two feet to the left of my own body. Glasses to in focus, two television screens framing the life I’m seeing. It’s not unpleasant, just, not normal.

Tired of hurting. Tired of being alone. Tired of things always changing. No control. No stability.

I feel too much. I wish I knew how to temper it. To experience things the way normal people do. I’m told, I know, it’s a symptom of my disorder. I feel too much. Can’t stop everything rushing in at me.
Knowing that, doesn’t stop it from hurting.

I don’t understand. Don’t understand. I’m not a bad person.  

I break my own heart more than anyone I’ve ever known. I can’t stand it anymore.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

Everything hurts.