Good and bad

Every so often I catch up on Noah’s private writing. Mostly my rule for myself is I’m not allowed to get upset about what I find when I snoop. I totally failed yesterday.

Noah calls it “going limp”. I call it going to the dark place. All I can see is how bad I am. How much I hurt Noah among many other people. I can’t see why I should be allowed to continue to live to hurt people. It’s really hard for Noah when I do this.

I lashed out at more than one person yesterday. In more than one big, dramatic way. I am so sorry.

I’m hurting Noah. And part of that is because we are both choosing to be hurt by things that are scary.

Choosing to be hurt. Oh that makes me sound like a douche. But I’m hurt by Noah’s actions too. I’m not just saying it about Noah.

We want enmeshment without jealousy. How is that even possible?

I don’t know. But yesterday when I read that Noah thinks the enmeshment is just already dead because of what I have done… I lost it. I’ve already killed our marriage?! Then what in the fuck are we going to do? Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

He has since revised his commentary and said, “I was really angry”… which isn’t something I’m in a position to judge. He has also told me that I am dumb for wanting to just end relationships over him saying that. Ok he didn’t say dumb. But unwise to the point where he sent an email to someone I’m dating saying that I’m over reacting and please don’t take it too seriously.

Shit.Noah and I both have scared feelings about the future. We both want to make big dramatic gestures to fix things now. Guess what? That doesn’t work so well. I did email the therapist and say maybe waiting a month before our first joint session is dumb. We’ll figure it out sooner, somehow.

I am at the point where I basically think that if I have to lock down to monogamy again we probably shouldn’t have another baby because my big kids don’t deserve to have the weight of depression dropped on their head the way it would happen if I had another super isolated pregnancy. I don’t do well being alone and feeling trapped. It’s a horrifying feeling for me and I get so god damn sick. I’m going to need company this time.

Thank you Rose for the offer of Krissy sitting. I’ll take you up on it. I’ll take anyone up on it this time. I have to. I’ll have to tell the kids that they get their summer of 5 days a week off from people but when I’m pregnant… I get guests as much as I want.

If I want to get through another pregnancy with as much of a good mood as I manage most of the time with my kids… I need help. I am incompetent to manage such an emotional/chemical state alone. I am not truly a loner. I am not an introvert. Too much alone time eats me like a flesh eating bacteria. It hurts.

I know it isn’t fair how quickly it feels true. I know it isn’t fair how selfish I am once I start feeling this kick in. This is existential for me. This is at a soul level. I am so afraid of being alone.

But I do like my alone time. Ahhhhhh. But not too much.

Just enough to get my thoughts together. Then, more people please. I know this is hard on Noah. Noah wants allllllllll my energy. Sorta. Only then I overwhelm the shit out of him. We are both so very jealous. He’s working hard to get me to understand that he is about as jealous as I am he is just better at managing it.

After reading his journal entries I believe it a whole lot more. That’s an angry, sad man. I am so sorry, my beloved. I am so sorry that I am hurting you so much with my behavior.

I am saying that I want to not do x and then doing x right away. It is true. That isn’t your imagination. That’s happening.

I said I wouldn’t date anyone else who wasn’t willing to do group play. Then someone fell into my lap. It feels like a direct slap in the face to Noah. Cupid was supposed to be the only person I was seeing who didn’t want group play. Sigh.

But I don’t know how to turn down someone meeting me and seeing me as a delicious challenge to help manage. I don’t know how to say no to someone who says, “She seems crazy high maintenance and I’m here for it” to Noah. Yeah. I am. I am crazy high maintenance. And if you want to help, fuck yes.

I know you are cute and all and you are offering to do it platonically. Because you think that would assuage Noah’s or my nervousness. Awww, aren’t you cute. No that’s not going to help. Because it is how much I think about you. It is about the fact that even if you feel like you are sated because you get enough sex so you can have platonic relationships with people you are attracted to…. I don’t know what sated feels like. I want more sex. Even though sometimes I physically have to stop because I’m worn out. I still wish I could be having more. I curse the delicacy of my tissues.

Ahh, speaking of the delicate tissues. I started bleeding. Which would be enough by itself to explain going nutty yesterday. My hormones hate me so much. Yesterday was a “I should cut myself to shut up so I don’t drive out to the ocean and go for a permanent swim” day. PMDD sucks. It’s a known problem. For 5-10 days before bleeding there is intense urge to self harm and/or commit suicide. I tend to go back and forth with remembering to ignore my urges or thinking “But I’m thinking this because of LIFE SITUATION and that is different! See, I am a terrible person and I should be punished.”

Crazy high maintenance. And you want to sign up for that? Other folks are backing away slowly. It feels like they are smart to do so. I am a walking time bomb. Hopefully I will mostly hurt myself. Sigh.

I feel really bad but I don’t want monogamy any more. It was too hard. It was too isolating. I know it would be different with you working from home but it is a different kind of subtle rejection all day long. You are there and I can’t talk to you or I’m a problem.

Muh. That sucks.

I have to let you work. I know that you think it is shitty that I am so jealous of your working hours but … it’s not jealousy exactly. It’s me trying to figure out how to deal with my fucked up chemistry in all the hours you aren’t available. I still have to deal with me during that time and it’s hard.

I know that dealing with me is hard.

I know that I’m going to have to learn how to accept things changing in a lot of directions. I’m not the only one who needs support.

I know.

I’m prepared for it to hurt. And I need to get a whole bunch of plans in place for how to deal with my self harm urges.

I did reach out to a fellow self harm person and talked about it instead of doing it yesterday.

Where are my cookies?

Where are my chips for days abstinent? I didn’t do it because of a higher power. I’m trying to change this coping method because frankly I’d rather have connection than need to cut myself to remember that connection isn’t for me.

I’d rather have connection.

Thank you, Noah, for sending that email. Thank you for wanting to be nice to your pet even though I am bringing more strife into your life. I am.

You have trusted me for so long because I treated “I try” like “I will kill myself to get this done.” Since I started dating other people things haven’t gone like that. “I’ll try to only date people who want group play” didn’t last a week. Yes, that has been true of thing after thing. I’m being terrible about keeping my word. I am being so impulsive it is a serious problem.

You keep telling me that obviously I need this or I will die. I’m scared it is true. I am scared I need people available to connect with me more hours of the day than you have available. I use my friends for this as much as I am able. There are still gaps.

This is about me. This is about the caverning gaping maw of need in me. I need to be loved. I have a lot of not-being-loved to make up for. Decades. I know you do too Noah. I know you weren’t much more loved than I was, heck maybe less. I have always been able to inspire it in small ways from strangers. You grew up being universally loathed. You have learned to just not need anyone but me and the kids.

I haven’t. I need.

I hunger. I ache.


I want to feel worthy of being taken care of and right now I reject offers with a spiked mace. I have to change this aspect of myself. I don’t know how. But I have to figure it out anyway.

With luck I will be typing less for a while for good reasons. In just a few hours I go pick up a friend for a long visit at my house. They’ll be here 19 days and I bloody well hope I won’t be online much. But usually me going offline signals bad stuff and people get nervous and start pinging me. So, let me warn you.

Breakfast is almost ready. I didn’t completely wreck things yesterday. And today brings the promise of a new perspective to listen to. A completely different change of things to think about. I’m so happy.

I get to bring my friend to Wonderland. What a gift.

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