Are you there God? It's me.

My eyes are blurry and my head is fuzzy.  The tears keep breaking the ledge and blazing a trail down my face.  I have taken one too many meds.  The migraine has pounded consistently today, as it has the last week and longer. 

I really don’t know what is wrong with me, and I have no one to tell.  I have pushed Therapist away; we won’t see him for several weeks.  I didn’t mean to push him away, but I’ve been so dissociative this week that it just happened.  My members have been so active that it is beyond description and explanation.  I fail at words.

I’ve been student teaching the last 3 months.  The last three weeks seem to really be worse, and I haven’t been completely present for them.  I feel the switches take over me during the classes.  I notice that my brain dissolves and the content knowledge seeps away.  I ask a question but don’t remember what I’ve asked, much less the answer.  I am losing time.  I feel myself become someone different.  It is not safe for me to be in a classroom.  It’s not that the students are in danger; it’s that I am in danger.  I am finding myself becoming emotional and teary in front of them. 

Away from the classroom, my coping skills have revolved around alcohol, prescription meds, and more prescription meds. 

One of my classes is a remedial class, and they have been abusive to me.  One of the girls called me a “white n”, a derogatory word used for black people.  Irony is that she is black herself.  The day this happened ended I called my university supervisor sobbing.   I haven’t stopped crying since. I left school this particular day and got so drunk I believe I had alcohol poisoning.  I took sedative drugs and passed out after I made myself throw up.  I’ve done this twice.  Yesterday Husband and I went out on a date to a movie.  I had been bawling all day so badly and had a migraine so terrible that I took his prescription tranquilizers, some of mine, and my migraine meds.  I ended up bawling in the middle of the movie, then passing out.  Husband tried to rouse me, but to no avail.  I woke up five minutes after the movie ended and credits rolled.  After I got home, I went to bed and I didn’t wake up again until 12 hours later. 

I’ve been bawling today till my stomach hurts.  I can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.  It’s so bad I can’t catch my breath.  Something hurts my heart and my members so badly it can’t be named.  I keep having flashbacks of people hurting me.  The uncle.  The neighbor.  I’m having flashbacks of hiding in my closet, and I can see everything around me like I’m really sitting in there.  And I cry and cry and cry.  And it won’t go away.  And I don’t know what this has to do with student teaching.  I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I don’t know. 

The irony is that for a while, the tears felt good.  For weeks I’ve been numb and rock-like.  Cold and distant.  Just blank.  Once I started crying I felt better.  I could feel the refreshment of pain again, and it was a relief.  But I’m over it now.  The pain is too much.  I’m ready for the numbness.

I am really trapped.  I need help.  And I really don’t know where to go from here.  I am hiding during the most important semester of my life, and I don’t want to.  I really don’t want to.  God, help me.

To You

I want you to hear the words I can not speak.  I want you to search for me where I’ve been forced into hiding.  I want a safe, warm hug from you where only coldness lives.  I want you to help me to cry when I can not face the tears myself.  I want you to help me as I’m forbidden from being human. 

There is more to me that meets the eye, and I need you to know it.

M.I.A.

I am missing in sight.  You will look for me, but you will not find me.  My words you won’t understand, my writing you won’t know.  I am disappearing in plain sight.  Please don’t look for me.  I surrender.

It's all over but the crying

I have told him I want a separation.  I’ve moved into the guest bedroom.  Every step I take away from him he is a bewildered little boy, not understanding how this could happen to him.  Whatever he’s wondering, it’s been happening a year and a half.  I feel I’ve told him every step of the way what his behavior would lead to.  But inevitably, according to him, it’s my entire fault.  

He says my internal system doesn’t communicate well enough.  (Well, god damn, why didn’t he just say so and I would have fixed it already!)

He says he only married one of us; he didn’t bargain for the plural lifestyle. 

He says I take him for granted. 

He says other things, but I don’t remember what they are.  I ask him to write them down.  He says no.

I know he feels alone.  He has alluded to suicide several times.  I doubt my decision to leave sometimes.  I keep asking myself if it’s really that bad that I would betray the covenant I swore before God.  The only reason it’s not bad right now is because we aren’t really talking.  But it is that bad. 

I’m grasping at straws for how to cope.  The negative thoughts slink back in, wanting me to hurt myself some way or another, some way to be able to catch my breath and fill this hole in my heart.  Anything to numb out.  Any way to make myself think of something else.  I would very much like to melt away.

Cheers to complications!

TRIGGER WARNING

********Talk of intimacy and sexuality *******

I told Therapist recently that I didn’t think the problem was with my marriage; it was with me.  While the trouble with my marriage isn’t that it’s all me, all of it has to do with me.  I don’t know any more if I dislike Husband, or I just want to be with someone else.  I know for sure I don’t want to be married again, and I long for the days when we become independent and self-sufficient.  And that will happen this semester when we are done with student teaching, we graduate, and enter the work force (hopefully). 

The issue is more complicated.  The issue is I want to be with a woman, not a man.  Every time I am *with* Husband, I feel sullied and unclean.  Recently we were intimate and I started crying the tears of a child half way through.  When Husband had finished, the tears wouldn’t stop.  We curled up and sobbed.  Husband said he was sorry, but we commented that even though he’s sorry he keeps doing it; he keeps asking for it.  He said it made it him feel like an abuser.  And yet, he keeps asking.  And that makes us look at him like an abuser, which makes intimacy even more difficult. 

There is a woman in the vast outer reaches of our life with whom we are attracted.  And it seems she is attracted to us.  We saw her yesterday, and she hugged us twice.  We get butterflies in the stomach when we think of her.  And we think of her a lot. 

And that is that.  It’s complicated.  Not all of us are on board with being with a woman.  Leaving Husband?  Maybe.  But not because a woman is involved.

But, cheers to complications and shutting my eyes!  They make the inertia of this life seem even less tolerable.   *insert sarcasm*