Burn baby, burn

And by burn I mean bridges.

Ok I need to type. I haz feelings. I’ve been pretty quiet about them and that sucks for me. It sucks in a lot of ways. In order to compartmentalize my extreme disordered thoughts when I’m not typing them out I have to do a lot of depersonalization. I feel like less than a person. I feel hollow. I don’t feel fleshed out. It isn’t exactly the same thing as dissociating but it is related.

I have offended one person and I didn’t offend that person so much they want to banish me from their life they just don’t want to be that close to my sex life. Totally reasonable.

My sex life is a chaotic place. You need to be ok with ups and downs and extreme changes in emotion or…. we just can’t have sex as part of an ongoing relationship. Because that happens to me. I have big feelings.

I was honest with the psych nurse yesterday. (I have two new scripts. Klonopin (a longer acting sleeping pill like Lorazepam to deal with the early wake ups) and Abilify.) She asked if I had any suicidal urges on the Gabapentin. I said no but my self harming urges went through the roof. She asked what that means.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and said, “Ok I’m not going to lie I cut last week.”

“Ok, where? How deep?”

“On my thigh. It’s not deep. It really isn’t dangerous.”

Then I went into my medical schpeal about avoiding tendons and arteries and she asked me how I insure cleanliness and I told her I use disposable scalpels to avoid infection risk and…

When I was done she blinked and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever worked with someone who is as serious about mitigating the harm that they are doing. Uhm, well done.”

That was funny.

You are harming yourself and you know it. But you are doing it so you don’t do what might be worse harm in another place. As you harm yourself you are following elaborate safety precautions. Oh. Well. Uhm. Ok.

When was the last time you cut? Almost five years ago. Let’s talk about the similarities there.

In  both situations I felt like I had mountain sized emotions that other people were not ok with dealing with and I had to make them go away. Now. Stop on a dime. It doesn’t matter how you feel it matters how you act.

That’s hard. I don’t know another way to do it. When I feel absolutely in a trap and I have to make my hysteria go away now… I don’t know another way to do it. I really don’t.

Why did I feel like it this time? Because I was going to flip out in front of the kids and I’m not ok with that. I’m way ok with flipping out where they can’t see me. I wasn’t going to be able to hold it together in front of them on that day and that… that isn’t ok.

Shove that shit in a box, bitch.

I can’t freak out at my kids. I just can’t. Not when I’m upset about things in my sex life. That’s not ok. Hold it together. But does cutting count as holding it together? Well, my kids haven’t seen the marks and they haven’t had to deal with my extreme behavior either. I’m not sure if that is good enough but it is what I had to give last week.

I put myself in situations where BIG FEELINGS are unavoidable. Then I struggle to deal with the repercussions. My feelings cause other people to have feelings. Situations cause other people to have feelings. Then the feelings must be dealt with.

Thank all the stars in the heavy for easy going, slutty folk. Y’all are the best. You are ok with doing what you are doing and on the good days I show up and fuck you and on the rest of the days you don’t get mad at me for my inadequacy at being consistently up.

Noah and I are… a lot of the way through negotiating. It still hurts. Why does it hurt? Because neither of us like it that either of us will ever do anything but look at one another. We both want that from one another. LOOK AT ME.

So how do we share that? How do we share this intense possessiveness we both feel? I don’t know. But we are going to find out. When it goes well it goes so freakin well. When we both feel safe and loved and like we are getting what we need we have a lot to share and we aren’t selfish and we aren’t stingy.

But how do we get to the point of feeling safe and loved? That’s the hard bit.

We go through phases of feeling that way. I know that I complained about how only other people make Noah glow and that’s not true. I see him glow with me too. It just only happens on days when I spend a lot of time adoring him and that shit takes work.

I need to do more of that work. I like the results.


What is it that we really want? I want to speak in we. Maybe that’s bad.

I want enmeshment. I want intensity. I want attention. I want to be a separate self and I want to not have much of me that is outside of our relationship. I want sex like this month to be most months of the year. I want to feel special.

I hate that I have absolutely no idea what could cause me to feel special. I don’t. Even though Noah has spent ten years doing his best to cause me to feel special… I don’t.

That seems so unfair. It means there is nothing I can ask him to do to make me feel special. Clearly it isn’t going to come from him if we have utterly failed so far.

I don’t know and it really sucks.

I want time spent. I want conversation. I want perversion and tenderness. Time. Time. Time. Time. I want your time. I want to crawl inside you so that you carry me around in a Joey pocket and I never have to miss a minute with you. Ok, maybe I’ll crawl out and leave you alone when you are pooping. Because oh my god. But the rest of the time I’m happy to be with you.

I don’t need you to garden. But it’s nice when you decide to come sit in the shade near I’m working so you can talk to me.

I don’t need to program. But I like sitting near you when you are doing so.

I don’t like doing the cooking. But I like when we work together and I do all the other stage setting parts of making a meal and getting drinks so that things just feel more put together when we sit down to eat the wonderful mea you have made.

I like grocery shopping with you and exercising with you and meditating with you. I like that you, alone in the whole world, are happy to try that hard to learn how to be happy so you can teach me how to be happy.

Thank you. That is a gift I cannot repay.

see you. I see the vulnerability and sadness that comes from feeling like there isn’t a thing about you that is lovable. You do deserve love. You didn’t believe you deserved it when I told your mom she wasn’t allowed to come after the motorcycle accident and we took care of you because we loved you and you don’t believe it now when I do my very best to show you that you are important every single day.

Yeah, I’m all in.

Yes, this sexing other people thing is going to be hard. But it’s also so much fun. It takes energy from both of us to share. It’s hard. We don’t love it. Neither of us like sharing our toys very much. But we do actually both like the results. We do like the increased skill base and knowledge and repertoire. We like the glowing and the extra energy.

Even when I want to scratch your face off. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.


Uhm, I need to go water the back yard before taking Eldest Child on the school tour. Fudge.