Lost Innocence

A little girl with innocence still in her eyes, 

Shining through, bright blue.

One day someone notices that innocence is gone, 

Her eyes don’t shine as blue. 

They all want to know the truth, 

What happened to her innocent eyes. 

While their eyes were wide open, 

And they were all right there, 

The innocence in her eyes was being taken. 

He was just a “boy”, a young teen, the son of her mommy n daddy’s “friends”, 

She was supposed to be safe with him, she’d been with him alone before. 

Their parents all in the bedroom together, 

Taking in their chemicals, their white devil taking them to higher places. 

While in the living room, the little girl lay with the boy on the couch, 

With that scratchy green blanket over top of them. 

Her uncle, nodded out in his own chemical stupor, was supposed to be watching, 

“Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do” played in the background. 

That’s when he made his move, his hands, creeping up her little leg, fingers touching, 

Touching her and causing her great confusion, why was he doing this, we’re not supposed to touch. 

She looked around, her world spinning, hoping a door would open from the bedroom, 

Looking over at her uncle, waiting for him to come too…. but he didn’t. 

The boy touched, made her touch, she knew  but she didn’t, 

In her mind she knew she had to stop this, but she did not know how. 

There is still some innocence in her eyes, when she looks up at this “friend”, 

Asks him to please stop, and he doesn’t, 

This is when the innocence in her bright blue eyes fades out. 

In that instant she learns that there is no one, 

No one but her to save herself. 

Forever after, that little girl is changed, 

She now sees life in a way she shouldn’t, 

Sees the good and the evil for exactly what it is. 

So when people wonder twenty four years later, 

Why her eyes don’t shine as they once did, 

She just smiles and shrugs them off. 

But it goes back to one event, 

One moment in time, 

When something was stripped of her, her child like outlook, her innocence. 

---

That little girl is now a grown woman with a family of her own. That day however was a defining moment in my life. A lot of things changed after that, and it took some years for me to properly deal with the things that happened that night. I can honestly say I forgive the young man who did what he did, though it was not right at all, and there is no excuse for what he did. His parents were very bad drug addicts just as mine were and hadn’t been raised in the best of circumstances. Like I said, this did not give him the right to do what he did by any means, I’m just saying I understand his background as I came from the same, and I was able to forgive him. Though he took something from me that day, I have learned that God has filled that space. Forgiving him was not easy, but he has a much bigger judge that he must worry about someday, so for now, I try not to judge anyone. I’m sorry if this triggers anything for anyone or upsets anyone, but this IS a blog about my life, in my words, and this is a part of my life. 

Empty Yet Full

An empty shell, vacant of a woman who’d once been, 

Soul lost, mindless…. Trying to stop the pain. 

She’s stopped caring about the important things, 

Her family, herself, her human condition. 

She turns everything good in her life to shit, 

Sabotaging all her relationships, familial, platonic, and romantic. 

Living in a viscous cycle that always leaves her down and depressed, 

It always comes back, the demon always welcomes himself back to her. 

So lonely, she is so terribly, achingly lonely. 

Tears don’t often come anymore, she feels as though she’s all cried out most days, 

Then there are days when the tears just flow and the agony falls down her face.

This indescribable pain inside her  heart, she just doesn’t understand, 

What must she do to fix it? Hadn’t she been praying for so long now? 

She doesn’t even try anymore, she’s giving up, slowly but surely, starting to scare herself, 

Because this time it’s real, she knows that if she lets go, it’s really gonna be it this time. 

A bleeding heart, wounded soul, broken emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted, physically disabled, 

And people say she’s just having a pity party for herself, well maybe part of it is that she pity’s herself, but she knows others have it worse out there, she’s looking at just her life, being the ever so selfish woman that she is. 

A woman who’s heart aches and bleeds over the love that she will never receiver from a man. 

Most of all, she is just tired, so incredibly tired, and all she really wants is to just curl up and go to sleep and get forever lost in her dream world. 

She’s so empty, yet so full of all these feelings and emotions at the same time….. She’s a mess. 

Right Now

Right now, I am for whatever reason, feeling very lonely, (though I am surrounded by my kids and husband), and very melancholy. There aren’t any real triggers that I can think of that happened today to cause this, nothing other than my ordinary constant thinking. I never have a blank mind, like when I ask someone to “tell me what you’re thinking right now” and they say “nothing”, I just don’t get it. I’m like, how can your mind just be blank, with no thought process consciously happening right now? Like is that even possible? Because for me, I always have something going on in the head of mine, and a lot of times I know, it’s stinkin thinkin as I call it, it is stuff that isn’t very positive, or not positive at all. I tend to dwell on the negative, even when I tell myself that I’m not going to. This is part of the reason I don’t have any friends really, is because every time I’d see or talk to them, all I’d do is bitch and complain, and one day I finally realized this and it all suddenly made sense as to why people didn’t really want to be around me. I tend to be negative. I can also be one of the most positive people I know, usually when it doesn’t have anything to do with myself. 

I hate feeling this way, because really I have no current reason to feel like this, but it happens, more often than I care for. I’m not even really sure I can put my finger on one or two exact things that are upsetting me or causing me to feel this way, it’s just an overall, general feeling that I have, if that makes sense. Sometimes I can get myself out of it, sometimes it stays with me the whole day and sometimes into the next day. My biggest thing I need to work on with this is the type of thoughts I’m having, when I catch myself having a negative thought, I need to try to replace it with a positive one. There are so many things I know I should be making myself do to get better, but I’m not, I don’t. I’m always so tired, physically and mentally. I sleep for a big part of the day and night if I can and when I am awake I feel sluggish and lethargic. I’ve been through med changes, tests, all kinds of things, and having autoimmune diseases doesn’t help. My motivation is just gone. I’m constantly thinking about all the things I should be doing, need to be doing, but not doing them. I get very frustrated because of that. 

I’m lonely in way that a woman wants a man to hold her, kiss her, pay attention to her, be positive with her, make love to her, be kind to her…. all those things and more that I don’t have. It’s been so long that I ache for it, and there’s only one person that I want in this whole world, and he surely isn’t my husband. That weighs on my heart big time all day every day. I know it sounds crazy, but I NEED to see the man I’m in love with and it drives me insane that I can’t. 

I don’t really know where I’m going with this post, so I’m going to end it now. I guess I just felt like maybe if I wrote a little it would help in making me feel a bit better and I guess it kind of did. So hey, there’s a positive, lol. Thanks for listening! 

How I Ended Up In The Psychiatric Unit and More

I will start by saying that I have had a deep underlying depression for a long time now, I have been battling it for quite some time.

Then I will jump into a separate story, but one that goes along with everything that happened in a way. See, my husband and I have had two flea market booths for three years now. Our kids have always been a part of it, and they have been coming most every weekend this whole time now. They are both under ten. About a month ago my husband took our boys, plus his twenty one year old nephew and his one and a half year old son, to the flea market with him one day. The owner of the flea market has a bad temper and can be very moody and temperamental. Well, our nephew’s little guy fell and hit his head on the concrete floor about ten minutes before opening time. The owner of the flea market came flying over to our nephew and began yelling at him, demanding to know “what the fuck was going on over here, what’s all this noise”, and proceeded to tell our nephew that “he and his little asshole needed to get out of his building”, my husband was standing there the whole time in disbelief. A little later that day, the owner came to my husband and told him that from now vendors cannot have children under that age of ten with them. He told my husband that it’s always been in the “bylaws” and handed him a print out of those supposed rules. So when they came home and told me, you may guess that I was highly annoyed, as that’s not just my husband’s booths, they’re mine as well. I chose to vent a little on my personal facebook page, giving an account of what happened and stating how wrong I thought the owner was and that he apparently needs some anger management. Well, the owner was given a copy of my post on fb, and he was ready to kick my husband out that day. My husband managed to talk him into letting him stay, but neither myself nor my kids or anyone in my husbands family is allowed in there anymore. Which means that I now will be taking care of both my boys all weekend long, by myself. 

Now some may be thinking to themselves, “why is it an issue that she has to take care of her kids by herself?” The honest answer is, they do not listen to me because I never enforced punishments with them, instead I’ve always yelled and made idle threats. So now at five and seven, when I DO punish them, or try to, it’s like a joke to them, and because I don’t stay consistent, it doesn’t stick. I don’t stay consistent because truthfully, it’s a lot of frickin work, hard work, and I often just don’t have the motivation to do so. So a day of taking care of them alone for eight hours, is like a day of torture for me, and that’s sad. It should not be that way, because I do love my sons with all my heart, they’re the reason I’m still here, but man…. They sure can make it easy for me to allow them to drive me crazy. I often beat myself up about this, and I feel like a poor excuse for a mother because I can’t even control my own children, but it’s all truth. I WANT to be a better mom, I WANT to be able to get my kids to listen, and so on. With that said, ever since this no kids at the flea market thing has caused weekends to be miserable, I fight with my husband every Saturday and Sunday morning, having an extremely child like fit over the fact that he’s continuing to stay at the flea market instead of staying home with me and helping, because he knows. 

The morning of Sunday March 8th, I lost it. I woke up completely pissed off because I just did not feel like taking care of both the boys by myself that day, but yet I wouldn’t allow him to take them to his sister’s house because it’s disgusting and just isn’t a good place for them. Plus I was so angry at myself for not being able to care for my kids like a normal mom, and that was just making me angrier, and though no one knew, it wasn’t at them, it was at myself that I was getting angrier at, because I could feel myself losing it over this, this stupid thing. I yelled at my husband, called him all kinds of names, said I wasn’t watching the kids, that I would go back to the bedroom, all kinds of stupid, ignorant things. I was SO angry, not just at this whole situation, but at everything it seemed. I had cut myself the day before, not in front of my children or anything, it was later in the evening when my husband was home. Cutting is something I haven’t done since I was a teenager, but I took a utility knife/box cutter, and I locked myself in the bathroom and made several cuts. My husband found out because he somehow managed to see them. So during this fight on Sunday, he eventually tells me he’s calling the police to come get me, he picks up the phone and starts to call…. and I go ballistic, totally nuts, I blacked out….. I reached over the hallway banister and pulled his hair so hard that I picked him up off his seat, my husband is not a small man. I continued on into the dining room where I was told that I picked up the microwave and threw it across the room, and also destroyed the stand it was on, and managed to crack the antique French provincial desk that my husband bought me for Christmas, I cracked it all the way around. I seriously and honestly do not remember this, because I would’ve stopped because of my kids had I known what I was doing. My husband said they were yelling “mommy just stop, please stop and it won’t be so bad” pleading with me to stop the madness I was in. It brings me to tears and tears my heart apart that they had to see that. How can they trust a mother like that? I can’t imagine what their little heads were thinking, are still thinking. God how I have really fucked up with this one…. I don’t know if I can ever make it up to them…. that memory of me will always be there in their minds and I hate that, but my stupid, selfish ass did that.  

So the police came and they called the EMS and by that time I was calmed down considerably but still very upset. I had also went to the kitchen to start taking as many of Klonopin as I could while my husband was on the phone with 911. So I imagine that had some effect to me being calmer. He smacked the bottle out of my hand so I couldn’t continue taking them, so I hadn’t ingested enough to be concerned about. I went cooperatively with the EMS and the police to the emergency room at our local hospital. The let me put a bra on and grab a few things before they took me and they were very nice. I gave my boys big kisses and hugs before I left and told them how sorry mommy was and that I was going to go to the hospital to get better and how much I loved them, then I walked out the door and got in the ambulance and left for the hospital. I actually got down to the psych unit pretty quick. I thought I was prepared for this, that I was really going to try to get better. I had no intentions of messing up or doing anything crazy while in there. Unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way for me. 

That first evening/night that I was at the psychiatric unit, I went into one of the recreation rooms/areas to call my husband. I don’t know why I even called him in the first place because I should’ve known he wasn’t going to have anything positive to say, and probably nothing nice either, but I called anyway, hoping that this time it’d be different. The definition of insanity, right? Doing something over and over even expecting a different result. Anyway, I don’t even remember our conversation, all I remember is slamming the receiver down as hard as I could, (which apparently broke the entire phone), after that I remember bits and pieces, but for the most part I don’t remember much. I know what I was told by staff and patients the next day. I was screaming when I slammed the phone down, I left the rec room and tipped over the big potted tree they had in the hallway, then I went down to my room and continued screaming and hollering, staff gave me two shots of Ativan, and I still carried on, eventually tipping over my dresser. That’s when it got bad I guess, because like eight guys were outside my door, staff and security and they carried me out of my room kicking and screaming, trying to BITE and SPIT, down to the seclusion and restraints room, where they proceeded to strap me down and inject me with Geodon, and I eventually calmed down, but it was still all kind of hazy to me. Almost all the things I just said I did, is information I gathered from staff and patients. 

I have been hospitalized more times than I care to count since I was twelve years old, and NEVER, I mean NEVER, have I had to be put in restraints. Now here I am, almost thirty fucking years old and look at me! I acted like a complete and total lunatic, not once, but TWICE in one day!!! Who the fuck does that?! That day was apparently it for me, my breaking point, for whatever reason, it’s what made the damn burst and it all came flooding out. Even though I know people do these kinds of things, that shit happens, it still does not stop me from feeling like a complete and total asshole, ashamed, embarrassed, heart broken that my kids had to see part of that, like a failure as a mother/parent, or from feeling so damn stupid for behaving that way. You just don’t do that… but I did, and I have before, sometimes close to that degree of severity. I should have this right by now, I should be able to deal with bipolar and borderline personality disorder and anxiety, better than this. I should be able to remember my meds EVERY single morning, instead of one day I do and the next day I don’t, so they never get into my system right. I take my night meds every night, but there are certain meds that can’t be taken at night and I’m out of options as far as putting me on something different, I’ve been on literally almost everything. I feel like a freak, like a giant mess, a fuck up. I can’t seem to get life straight and it shouldn’t be that hard.

Some of you may read this and think wow she needs to get it together or what kind of parent does that, some may think I’m doing a woe is me type of thing, and some may think I’m being hard on myself, beating myself up, whatever the case, just as you’re entitled to think what you want about this, so am I. This isn’t a pity part woe is me post btw, I want to clear that up now. “In My Words” is supposed to be about my life, my world, my feelings, the way I see things. That’s the whole purpose of this, that and to help even one person in some way by just one of my posts even. That would make all this worth it, for just that one person I touched. 

I stayed in the psychiatric unit for eight days total. I didn’t sleep the whole stay this time like I have before in the past. I got up and went to all the groups, not just the rec group/arts & crafts group, I went to each one, and I stayed the whole time no matter how bored I got. I tried to get something out of each of the groups I attended. I journaled, I worked on my DBT Skills book, I read. The one thing I noticed I didn’t do enough of was pray… I need to work on that big time. I didn’t get along with the doctor, I’ve dealt with him two other times in a different psychiatric facility in a different area of the state, and we didn’t get along then. He’s callous, cold, uncaring, and he’s been doing this for too long. I didn’t feel like I got much use out of him. The only change he made for me was to add Paxil to my other two psch meds that I take. I’ve been on Paxil before, but it’s been so long I can’t remember if it worked or if I gave it enough time to work, etc. So I figure I’ll try it again for a few months, see what happens. All in all, I don’t really feel much better than I did when I went into the hospital. It would help if my husband and I could get along, if he would stop blaming me for literally ALL of our problems, stop screaming at me and calling me nasty names, that would all help things a lot, but I know I’m dreaming. I will never be good enough for him, because no matter how good I can be doing, he always finds something that I’m wrong about or doing wrong or are wrong for, whatever as long as I’m wrong. So it’s often like, why even try? But there’s a part of me that knows I need to build myself up, learn to not let his meanness and cruelness get to me or hurt me anymore, because I know that he too is sick mentally, but will not get help for it. He is truly right and living in his own world…. meaning no one can tell him anything, he simply doesn’t believe them, even if it’s one hundred people telling him, he’s right. Anyway, like I said, I don’t feel a lot different, but I think I have a little more motivation to get better than before. 

I am not proud of what happened, about what I did, by any means. I’m actually very embarrassed and ashamed by my selfish and childish actions, but unfortunately they happened, and I can’t go back and change them no matter how hard I try. I normally do not freak out like this, I mean I have freaked out before, but this, this was different. I truly do think my mind had had enough and it just could not take anymore. I am so sorry to my boys, for putting them through that, and I hope one day I can help them understand why mommy has done some of the things she’s done. I’m a little sorry to my husband because I know each time I’ve been hospitalized or had a moment, he’s cared, even if he didn’t show it on the surface all the time. Although some of the times, if he hadn’t hurt me the way he did, emotionally that is, I most likely wouldn’t have freaked out. No matter what though, there are no excuses for my actions and behaviors, whether I black out or not, I should know enough to stop way before it gets to that point. I’m am almost thirty fuckin years old!! I need to get with the program or something. I feel like I’ve been trying forever to “get better” and I do good for a little while but then BLAM!, it’s back to the same old shit. Depression, anger, sometimes mania, anxiety, all of it, it starts rearing it’s ugly head again, and I lose myself with it. I have to conquer this once and for all. I need to work this every single day of my life, work to correct this, to find solutions and things that can work to finally squelch this crap. Nothing happens overnight I know, as much as I’d like it too, as we all would probably. This will take time, but I have to be sure and do it every day, try to live differently every day, because that is the only thing I can do, is try to make the next day more positive than the one I’m in. I know my strides will start out small, but I believe I can build them up, more and more until I’m taking large strides and I’ve finally achieved some things in life and living it. Bipolar, Depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, Anxiety, those things may always be there, but I don’t have to let them continue to take over me. Even though I may not feel motivated to do this, and I just want to sleep all the time, I know this is something I must force myself to do. I’m hoping that over time, there will be a detectable growth in different areas of my life, of my life in general. It’s time, time for me to be an adult, to do the things that I don’t want to do out of pure laziness and lack of motivation…. if my mom were still alive, she’d slap me stupid for living like this, oh my gosh would she be nuts with me, lol. She was an OCD clean person and she had a way or ritual for doing everything, and everything got done on time, she was always early for appointments, I’m always late, lol. Yeah, she’d be very upset with me. So I try to use that as motivation, that I’m doing it because I’d want to make my mom proud could she see me from Heaven. 

I don’t know, an eight day hospital stay just didn’t seem to work the way I was hoping it would, maybe I put too much into the whole thing, too much hope. I knew the depression wasn’t going to go away in the short time I was there, but I guess that crazy part of me hoped it would somehow. That I’d leave feeling happy and chipper. But meds take time to work, too long if you ask me, four to six weeks, sometimes longer, is a long time to wait for someone who’s feeling depressed or manic or anxious or suicidal, etx. I’m going to do whateverP I have to to make sure I take my meds not only at night but in the morning too!! I’ve got a sign taped up right where I can see it first thing, I’ve set an alarm before, but I’ll figure it out and I’ll get on the consistently. I was thinking of keeping a little med journal about how I’m feeling each day and see if the meds are actually helping, and recording when I actually took them, if I did. I have to start with baby steps, or I’m never going to start at all and I’ll be this way for the rest of my life and that is so not what I want. So here I go, on this journey to “feel better”, this journey to getting my mental health in check once and for all, here I go down this path to learning to deal with my emotions in better ways, here I go in my struggle to take my meds correctly, just here I go! It is time, twenty – nine almost thirty years old with two kids and a husband of eight years, it just way overdue, it’s way past time for me to be getting it together, so I guess it’s now or never. I’m attending therapy once a week, or once every two weeks, I’m working on DBT.  I’m going to start slow and go from there, one day at a time. 

P.S. I realize that there is absolutely NO excuses for the things I did. Mentally ill or not, nothing I did was okay. There aren’t excuses for any of it, and I’m not trying to give any. Thanks! 😉 

Very Stupid

Originally I started this blog as a suggestion of my therapist. Because I like to write, he thought this might be therapeutic in ways to me. So, I decided to try it and I liked it, it felt good to get it all out. One of the main topics of my blog posts have been about the love that I have for another man other than my husband, the person I call ‘D’. To me, D is the other half of my soul, the missing piece to my heart. I won’t gush a bunch about my feelings for him because all you need to do is read some of my other posts to know what those are. 

Even though D is my best friend and the person I love the most in this world, in a romantic and non familial way, I still did not tell him about this blog. I didn’t tell him when I started it, back in December I believe, and I didn’t tell him up until last night, the night before his birthday, actually it was past midnight so it was his birthday. That was wrong of me. I should have told him when I began this. I should’ve told him not only because this blog contains some of the things he’s shared with me, but because he IS my best friend and the person I love most. He’s a sensitive kind of man and I should have known that this would possibly upset him. I guess I let myself think that because this is an anonymous blog, written under a pen name, with everyone I mention in it’s names changed to protect them, that it was somehow “okay” to not tell him…. but it wasn’t. I should have told him simply for the act that he is a big part of it and he is my best friend.

I have tested this man many times since we’ve started talking, because of my craziness…. my irrational feelings and emotions, my constant up and downs, my tantrums and whatever else. I’m not exactly together. He’s always been there though. Even when it was hard for him to find time or ways to get away from his every day life to talk to me or video chat, he still would, even if not as often some times than others. He always has made time for me and he’s always listened to whatever bullshit I have to say. He has believed in me this whole time even when there hasn’t been much to believe in, including at the present time, and I let him down. 

I imagine that he is feeling pretty unsure of my honesty to him in all of our relationship, which hurts to think, because honest is all I’ve ever been. This was seriously probably the one thing that he DIDN’T know. I’ve laid myself bare otherwise. I also know he’s hurt, because I didn’t feel that I could come tell him right away that I was writing this. Even if he would’ve been upset by it, he’d have been okay eventually I think, had I just told him right off, but now…. I don’t know. It seems I’m always finding ways to screw shit up in my life, whether it’s with him, my husband, or someone or something else. I do things and then I look back and I say, “wow, what the actual fuck was I thinking?!”, and it’s all the time, not just sometimes. I’ve hurt someone I care deeply for and love like crazy, and even worse than that is it’s his day today and should be a happy day and I’ve screwed that up royally. 

I honestly don’t know what I’ll be doing with this blog at this point. I may try and figure out how to delete the whole damn thing, or I may just delete every post that has anything to do with him, if that is what he wants me to do. That’s his choice and he deserves that choice, I should have given it to him a long time ago. I truly am a selfish person in many ways, ways that no one in the blogging world knows about. They have yet to have been written. But I am. Not just with D, but with my family as well. I am so wrapped up in my own feelings and my own misery and negativity that I often fail to see what those around me are going through or what I’m doing to them because of the way I am, sadly including my children. I am almost 30 years old and I still have so far to go in growing up. I did not mean to hurt my best friend, by no means at all…. that is always the last thing I want to do to those I love, yet seems to be the first thing and most common thing I do. I do apologize to him here and now for not telling him when I started writing about him, that was wrong and I should have. I never meant to violate anything in our relationship. Know one thing, it is a constant to hear me say, I write what I’m feeling when I feel it often without thinking, just as I often act first and think about it later, it is not an excuse, but it is truth.  I love you and you know it. 

Fuck It

I try and I try and I keep fucking up. So fuck it. Need to end this all. This blog, this life, this everything. Nothing’s worth it. I lose everyone I love. Nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone. I hurt those I love without intending too. I tried to make him proud, tried to take the steps toward getting better and now I’m in trouble. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THE PAIN. NO ONE. Everything I love, everything good that I touch, turns to shit. Fuck it. This very well may be it folks.

Sexual Frustration

I feel so alone right now, like no one will ever understand. I also feel ridiculous for feeling this way over something like sex, but I can’t help it. I feel like it’s going to drive me insane, combined with everything else in my life it’s just becoming too much. See, I am almost thirty years old and my husband is twenty-five years older than me, making him fifty-five this year, and as I’ve mentioned in other blog posts, we have not had actual intercourse in what’s going on three years now I believe, give or take a little. He has severe type one diabetes, as well as neuropathy and gout arthritis and a few other things. He’s on a lot of medications of course too. We have tried all kinds of things, pills, pumps, creams, you name it, and nothing…. he just cannot get an erection. 

There was a time when we were at least still having oral sex and doing the things we could still do, but even that has become rare. A big part of this has to do with the state of our marriage, as we do not get along well at all and are often fighting. To be honest, most of the time I cannot stand him, and the thought of him touching me appalls me. He is a mean and nasty man and most days I wish I would’ve never married him. (I know some of you are saying at this point, “then why don’t you just leave him”, unfortunately, that is not possible, which is a whole other story in itself that I’ll save for another time.) There are days where I try to force myself to have feelings like I used to for him, I pray that God will help me to get those feelings back. For the most part though, most days I have no attraction of any kind to him and I am simply co-existing with him. There are days when he tries to be nice, I can tell, and for those few hours or for that day, I see the man I married. Occasionally we do make love, (if you can call it that), and when we do, I am forcing myself to do so the whole time, as well as thinking of someone else the whole time too. Sad and pathetic, I know. 

I have always been a very sexual person. In my younger years I was extremely promiscuous. I’ve always loved sex, wanting it everyday if I could get it. I love every thing about sex. I started having sex at very young age, too young, and I pretty much never went without for more than month at a time after that. When I married my husband we had a very active sex life all the way up until he started having ED problems. Then it was like I was just cut off abruptly. This was like a shock to the system or the psyche more like for me. Of course I have toys and I know how to take care of myself, but it’s just not the same. Just as only having oral sex with my husband just isn’t the same. It’s not the same as being penetrated by a man. 

I could go out and find some random guy and bang his brains out, of this I have no doubt…. but that isn’t what I want. I get offers from different guys that I’ve known for however long, messaging me on facebook, etc. And as tempting as that sometimes is…. there is only one person that I want to have sex with…. and though it should be my husband, it’s not….. D is the only man that I want, but I can’t have him. (If you’ve read other blog posts you’ll know that D is the man that I love but am not with and can never have.) I have begged him and begged him to please, please come see me, just once, just one time and I swear this would all be better…. but for reasons of his own, he is not able to come. I don’t know if this means that he’ll never be able to come, or if it means that someday he’ll be able to, but he just doesn’t know when so he doesn’t say anything about it, I don’t know….. Whatever the case, this man D, he is the only one that I want and I want him so bad that there are days that I truly feel like I’m going to come completely unglued, go for real live nuts. I ache inside for him to make love to me, my heart hurts so bad. I sometimes wish that someone else would come along and make me feel the way he does, but someone who can actually see me, someone who can come to me. This has been going on for a year and a half with D and I now, and it was bad before him, but now that he’s in my life and I’ve fallen so deeply in love with him, it just makes it even worse. 

I actually started going back to therapy over this and some other things recently. That’s how bad this is, how serious. I already have a deep underlying depression that I’m working on fixing, and now I have this to add to the depression and let me tell you, most days I think a lot about dying. No, I’m not suicidal, not in the manner that I’m going to do something to myself, however I do not care whether I live or die, in fact, I pray for death most days. It isn’t just not having sex that makes me feel that way of course, there are a whole bunch of reasons combined together that make me feel that way, the not being able to have sex is just like the icing on the cake…. it’s like what makes the cookie crumble…. and this cookie feels like she’s crumbling most of the time. I am on depression meds, I’ve been taking them right, as well as my mood stabilizers. I’m back in therapy. I pray all the time, I read His word. I don’t know what else to do. I know this may sound ridiculous to some, but I just want to have sex!!!!!! At this point, I’m almost starting to not care who with, but then I regain my composure. 

I don’t know anymore…. I’m not in love with my husband, he can’t have sex with me either way….. I’m in love with a man I shouldn’t be, a man who’s married himself and lives fifteen hours away…. I want sex so bad I can’t stand myself…. I’m depressed all the time…. I feel hopeless most days…… as always, I’m a mess. 

I Don’t Want To Lose My Best Friend

So, if you’ve read certain blog posts of mine, you’ll have read about D, the man that I am in madly in love with but is not my husband. Crazy sounding, I know, and it is. I love this man more than life itself, I love him by far more than I’ve ever loved my husband, (sad I know). But he is also my best friend…. and I’m afraid I’m losing him. We have now been talking on an instant messenger and seeing each other on cam for a year and a half…. almost everyday with talking to one another. He has been there during some really bad times for me…. He’s seen me at my worst and he has stuck by my side still…. but everyone has a point where enough is enough, and I’m afraid that I’ve pushed him to that point. Throughout my lifetime I have been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and borderline personality disorder and I seem to have a problem with remembering to take my meds on a consistent basis, so I’m never really “better” I don’t think…. as you would guess, this makes me a hard person to have any kind of relationship with a lot of the time…. and I don’t even mean for it to be that way. You would think that I’d have this crap under control by now, I’ll be thirty years old in June, but still I don’t. I would love to take part in dialectical behavioral therapy,  but with no groups like that offered in my area, it makes it pretty hard to do and most counselors won’t work DBT with someone solo. They want them to be a part of the group. I do believe it’s the BPD (borderline personality disorder) that screws up my relationships more than anything. I have a huge fear of being abandoned, yet I seem to push those I love the most away from me, without even realizing it or meaning to. I am a selfish person as well, once again, without meaning to be. I tend to be impulsive at times. I can be very manipulative. All of these things I do without realizing most of the time, because I’m not mindful of myself at all, not self aware, and it’s sickens me to think that I can be like this. Well, D has seen all of this. He says he’s tired of my excuses and that I don’t listen to anything he tells me, so why should he keep trying? And he’s right…. as hard as it is for me to admit, I do make excuses… a lot. I know what my problems are obviously, but I’m not doing anything to fix them, not really. He told me a couple weeks ago that he refuses to be there to watch me waste away and I don’t blame him I guess…. I don’t know though, because I always thought that’s what real friends were for, but I guess it hurts him to watch me be this way. Because slowly, I’m giving up and I have been…. no I’m not planning on killing myself, unfortunately I don’t have the nads to do that, but I have been gradually getting worse, to the point where I just don’t care about anything anymore, I hurt so bad inside and I’m so sick of trying. It’s been a constant battle in life it seems since I was a child, there’s always been something to overcome, and I’m just very tired of it I guess you’d say….. tired of life…. just plain tired. I sleep most of the time, part of me thinks my body gets so tired and shuts down because I don’t have to think about anything when I’m sleeping. He’s been watching all of this now, for a year and a half. Listening to me whine and complain about the same damn thing all the time, yet still never really doing anything about it. Even I know that no matter how much you love someone, it’s hard to watch that, to hear it, to deal with it. I’m forever asking him what’s wrong, is he mad at me, did I do something wrong, etc., etc., and he hates that, which I don’t blame him for, I see where it gets annoying, because most of the time, everything’s fine. It’s in my own mind that I think something isn’t. And I’ve done that, a lot. Freaking out because I haven’t heard from him, thinking he’s not talking to me for some bad reason, blowing things out of proportion, making up crap in my own head that isn’t even really there…. and I have no idea why I do these things!!!! He’s tried to be there to support me, to talk positive to me and at times I just kept talking negative things back to him, making it impossible to be positive with me, he’s given me all the advice he has and I haven’t taken any of it, even though it’s been good advice… he’s even offered to help me in any ways he could, including financially and I turned that down to in so many words. Then there;s my obsession with him coming to see me…. oh my God….. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve begged him to come see me, how much it drives me nuts because I want to see him so bad…. I’ve bawled my eyes out on cam with him because it’s something I want so badly, but it just can’t happen, not now anyway, and maybe never. And that is one of the hardest things for me to accept…. I don’t know if I can go on with this knowing that he’s never coming to see me. I’ve asked him to just please at least tell me if he thinks it will ever happen, and I can’t even get that. I know it bothers him to hear me hurting so bad over wanting to see him, because he feels like it’s his fault and that he’s the one hurting me…. and even though it’s related to him, I know it’s not his fault. He has a wife, a job, a life, things he can’t just leave and say ‘Oh I’m going away for a few days’…. But in ways, he could come, like when she’s gone for weeks at a time working. I can’t explain to him or anyone else why I need to see him so bad, I don’t even understand it myself, I just know in my heart that I need to and that if I did, I would feel so much better. All of these things though are becoming too much for him I believe and that’s why he has stopped talking to me like we were. He told me today that that’s why he hasn’t been around as much, because it’s always the same with me and I’m not doing anything to fix it. But I want him in my life, I can’t see it without him. He’s literally been one of the only things that’s kept me holding on. Him and my boys. I finally felt like I found someone who loves me for me no matter what…. and I’m sabotaging it I think, just like I always do. It seems I destroy everything I love and I’m tired of it. I don’t want to lose my best friend, I’m not sure my heart can take any more hurt like that. 

If You See Cupid Funny

Yeah!! lol

Jealousy – It’s Truly A Monster

I do not like jealousy, especially when it’s me who’s jealous. I HATE that feeling…. it truly is a green eyed monster. I’ve been jealous before, don’t get me wrong, but this particular jealousy, it will eat me up if I don’t do something to try and cope with it now. I just don’t know what is that I can do to make it go away. I guess I should start by saying that the reason I’m talking about this right now is because D is on a trip with his wife, somewhere up in Canada. I know that I should NOT be jealous…. he isn’t technically my man. Despite the fact that we have a connection, a bond, like none other I’ve ever experienced, including with my husband, he is not my husband or my boyfriend, so I have no right to have ill feelings about him taking a little vacation with her. She’s gone a lot because of her job, sometimes being gone for weeks, and I know he misses her so much during those times, so really, technically (there’s that word again), they need and deserve this trip. Plus he works long hours at a job he hates, so yes, he deserves this. Yet for some stupid and horrible reason, the though of it eats me up inside…. it hurts my heart…. and it’s stupid! Because I knew when we started talking that we would never be anything more than what we are now, and neither one of us are really even sure what that is…. what exactly you call this. It’s not like a traditional man/woman relationship because we both have spouses/family’s, responsibilities to those families, we can’t “be together”, what he have is on here – the computer I mean…. yet it has felt to me for the past year and a half more like a true relationship than the marriage I’m in now and any other relationship I’d had in the past. So I’ve always known, and accepted that we will never be together. This trip thing though…. I don’t know…. when he told me he was going, I was instantly disappointed, jealous, upset, and unsure of why all at the same time. I felt terrible. All I could do is say, Oh…. Really? I think part of these feelings I’m having come from the fact that I’m in a miserable marriage that is failing more and more everyday it seems, and when I say there truly is nothing that can fix it besides the Lord, I mean it with all my heart. I do not love him like a wife loves her husband, not anymore. He is not attractive to me in any kind of way. I feel terrible about all this too, I struggle with it constantly. I try to make myself start feeling that way again, and sometimes it starts to work and he’s nice back, but by the end of the day, something has ruined it, we’ve gotten angry with each other or argued or something like that. We have not had actual penetrating intercourse in about two and a half years and he doesn’t touch me very often anymore, which kind of doesn’t matter, because I have to force myself to do things with him in the first place. I have to close my eyes and imagine D. So as you can see, my relationship with my husband pretty much sucks. And so I think that part of my bad feelings toward D and his wife doing stuff together, even little things, just the thought of them together period, it makes me so friggin green with envy, jealousy and I think it’s partly because I don’t have that in my marriage, and I probably never will…. they do, and they probably always will…. and no matter how much he tells me he loves me, I’ll never be her… I’ll never be first, I’ll never matter more…. she’ll always be number one, as it is supposed to be with your spouse. She’s the one he lays down with at night in bed…. she’s the one he makes love to. she’s the one that gets to touch him, kiss him…. all the things that I don’t get to do but yet long to so so bad. I get so frustrated because after all we’ve/I’ve been through this last year and a half almost that we’ve been talking…. the one thing I keep begging him and asking him to do for me it to just PLEASE come see me…. please come and make love to me, let me see you, let me see your real, to touch his body to feel his skin beneath my fingers…. all of it and more. It’s not just sex that I want to see him for (although that’d be beyond awesome), it’s just about seeing him, just once, meeting him in person….. I NEED this, and I’ve told him over and over again. that if he would just come, if he would do this one thing for me, he has no idea how much better I’ll feel and be afterward. I don’t think he believes me though. I even spoke to a counselor I was seeing about it, and he actually agreed that I need to see D, that way I can start dealing with my feelings for him and what to do. It is terrible someday’s, it’s like I am literally obsessed with him coming to see me. It’s all I can think about most days, even when I’m think of other things he’s there in the back of my mind. I bug him about it all the time. I can’t help it, seriously….. I just don’t get it, I get so frustrated…. WHY!? won’t he take a couple days and travel the 15 hrs. to get here and come see me, just for a few hours, we both know I couldn’t be too long but I could stay long enough. If his wife is gone and she won’t be back for a couple weeks or so, then WHY? He gets three days in a row off every other weekend…. he could take Monday off…. I’ve actually sat and thought and planned all this…. How fucking pathetic and creepy creeper like is THAT? I mean seriously. He knows how much I have going on in my life, he knows how terrible I’m feeling and have been feeling for the last couple years….. I’ve told him a million times that I can’t explain it, but him coming to see me would end all this craziness, that I can’t explain how I know or why, but it’s what I feel.  Anyway, yes, I’m jealous…. I’m human too? I just wish he’d realize, she gets him for the rest of their lives…. I don’t. I get him when he can be with me online or on cam. So why is trip to see me such a big deal?? *sigh* I’m hurting….. really bad. Not just about this either, other things too, but I’m not gonna write about those tonight. I sometimes just wish I’d get over him…. but then I can’t picture my life without him. Idk…..