(Sneakily) Blogging by Candlelight

Here I am again, up past my bedtime, with my brain whirring.  Whir whir whir.  Yes, I can hear it.  Worse, I can see it.  I see flashes of people’s faces, movements, stumbling walks down an unknown road in the winter, fucked up on pot and alcohol and no meds.  Blithering idiot at important times, lying my ass off in the next, making it all look and seem ok.  I am ok, right?

One thing I know now, and feel now, that I haven’t felt in a million trillion bajillion years, is SAFE.  I am SAFE.  DSB will keep me SAFE.  My Mom will keep me safe.  My dogs will keep me safe.  DSB and Mom won’t let anything happen to me.  I trust in that, build my day around that.  They protect me.  But now?  Now it’s dark and the thoughts and the flashes of people and places and things are my only company.  I want to wake DSB up so he can give me a hug.  I want to call my mom so she can tell me it will all be ok.  I won’t do either of those things, though.  But I can blog.

I can get those thoughts and feelings in ink so that I can remember tomorrow to get a few extra hugs, a few more reassurances.  So I can remember to be a little more thankful for the people who are miracles in my little life.  So I can cherish that kiss, that hug, that kind word a little bit longer, and not let it go so soon.  I didn’t get enough hugs today and that was no one’s fault but my own.

I feel desperation inside of me.  To get these flashes out of my head, to quiet the insistent echoes of voices, to make my brain stop taking me down those paths every night.

I took my sleeping pill tonight, and I’m going to do something, although I don’t quite know what yet, about the therapist situation.  I absolutely have to get to the point where these memories don’t assault me with such force, such consistency, and such mean-spiritedness.  I can’t keep on like this.  I know I can’t.  Can’t tolerate it.  Something needs to happen, and it needs to happen soon.

Reveling in the Dialectic-icity of it All

I want my own space, but I also desperately seek out contact with others.  I think I am about on my dad’s last nerve with constant phone calls, only to have a brief interaction.  DSB is used to me seeking is attention constantly, as is QoB.  I don’t know why I have been throwing myself at my dad recently, but he is surely not used to it and I don’t know that he is altogether appreciative of me wanting so much of his attention.

I have this feeling and fear that I am losing a connection with Dad.  We spent years  with me not wanting to have anything to do with him and not having much of a relationship.  Over the past few years, we have become closer and I treasure our time together.  It finally feels like he “gets” me.  I have an intense fear of him being out of my life again, now that I have his support.

I don’t know exactly what the deal is, but I am constantly texting, calling, etc my loved ones.  I have a desire to have my own time, but an even more intense desire to be connected.  I feel empty when I am alone anymore.  I used to be able to just kind of do my thing, but now it seems that I get lonely easily and I find myself reaching out, sometimes into thin air.

My therapist and I were examining what makes me get up in the middle of the night and eat.  When I first wake up, I feel empty and lonely.  DSB is out on the couch and I can’t snuggle against him or hug him or kiss him.  I am utterly alone and in the dark and I can’t manage it.  I think I eat then to comfort myself and also because I know that, if I eat enough, I will fall asleep again.

Not sleeping in the same bed as DSB is very sad.  He has given me many reasons, mostly that I don’t sleep well when he is in bed.  The bed is too small, the bed is uncomfortable, my elbow is constantly in his side, he wakes me up from rolling around, etc.  I think we should just get twin beds and push them together.  Money prevents us from doing this now.

It is hard to feel close with someone when you aren’t ever physically close.  We don’t sit on a couch next to each other, our chairs in the dining room are across a table, we sit in recliners to watch TV.  There is very little closeness and I feel a great divide sprawling in between us.  He is not an affectionate person, so I am always the one to initiate a kiss or a hug.  He just plain doesn’t touch me.  Ever.

Of course, this makes me feel like I am unattractive, or undesirable, and sometimes unloved.  He does not know how to express his feelings and I can go for days, thinking that he has become uninterested.  Which, of course, makes me throw myself at him even more.  He must be terribly confused with it all, because I sure am.

I am not worried about our sex life and won’t go into any sort of detail here on this blog, but a kind word or a good long hug or even a slap on the ass would be welcome, in passing.  I just want some attention.

And I don’t feel like I really get any attention, yet I am always seeking it out.  It would be nice if I didn’t have to try so hard, to practically beg for it.  No one calls without me calling first, no one hugs without me hugging first.  Maybe I am just beating everyone to the punch.  I feel lonely and I feel starved for attention.  I don’t really know what to do about it.