I Need to Dump This Out Now

 I'm no longer blaming myself. But after 5 months I do have something to say.

I have stated this part on my social media accounts at least once: If I hear one more person, who is practically a stranger to me, say that I'm dealing with this shit well "All things considered" I am going to scream.

No. I am not dealing with it well. The self destructive behaviors continue, just so I CANNOT feel anything. The excessive dating, the working 2 full time jobs. All it does is just stoke the fires of how absolutely exhausted I am from being angry. Do I work 80-90 hours a week for fun? Fuck no. This is a way for me to be too busy to process anything. I could survive off of 60 hours a week. 

Could I survive off 40? Again. No. Thanks to that fuck.

Which brings me to the second thing on my mind. Yes I get that I am "Handling things well" But if one more person, whether  I know them well or not, claims that they are happy my attempts at suicide failed. I may smack someone.

I know they mean well. But really? COOL! I'm sooo fucking happy that me being alive suits your needs. It does not, however, suit my needs. Nor even what I want.
Do you not realize what it is like to wake up after a mental breakdown, to see the sun rising as a taunt. Another mark on the "you've failed" list. 

Do you honestly think I want to know that I am immortal?

I don't. People could be sad. Yes... But I? Would finally be at fuckin peace. 
Take that "I'm glad you're still around." Bull shit and walk away. I'm not glad I'm still around. I'm kind of tired of living for other people's gains. 
Yay.. I'm glad that you would feel sad in a world without me, But that would only be temporary.

I've also been told that me spewing out the toxicity of the previous seven years helps nobody, me working myself until I am sick, helps nobody, and me being in a fragile state of mind helps nobody.

I'm not doing this for anybody. All of this??? Is 100% For me. The trauma dumping is me coming to terms with what I had ignored for years on end... The working 2 jobs is so that I am not homeless... I'm on newer medication to even myself out, so my mental state is going through major ebbs and flows until the cemistry gets used to it.

ALL THIS IS TO HELP ME! NOT ANYONE ELSE

So fuck off with that. 
I'm also tired of working for a big corporation where I have heard "We understand you're going through a lot but we have a business to run."
Yes a business that has seen an ungodly amount of increase in sales. To the point of shattering records.... And yet you refuse to give help or leeway. 

I was recently told that I seem to be in a better place, than when we first met.

Yeah, benefits of losing an abusive shit bag for a husband, and being free to make my own choices.

Honestly, the thoughts of my killing myself had dwindled. I just need to leave one of my places of work in order for me to be happy.

Although happy is a relative term, isn't it? I've started wirting again, started reading again, started collecting cards again.... I've had my empty two bedroom apartment newly decorated and furnished for what I want and need. 
And even with me being home just long enough to sleep.... I still feel trapped.

I don't have the serious desire to burn it to the ground though, and I assume that is a good step up. I have my car, to take me wherever I want to go, I don't have to check in with anyone about why I'm leaving.
And I am with someone who actually wants me to access my emotions and wants to figure out WHY I'm feeling the way that I am.

Not brushing it off or isolating me because it's not what he wants me to feel.

With all that being said. I am tired. 
I do want someone to come take care of me.
I'm tired of giving up things I want in order to get the things I need.

People keep telling me that these 80-90 hour weeks are temporary, I hear the hope in their voice. It's asked almost as a question, but stated as a fact.
And I, honestly, cannot say yes or no. Maybe I'll keep pushing myself to my limits for a while longer, to get the house I've always wanted. Or start the business I know I can. 
Even after my tormenting divorce is finalized and the shit bag is forced to pay just part of what he put me through. I'll use that as a nest egg and save more money. Working myself to my limits so that I can finally drag myself out of this debt and go traveling. 
Get a house with many dogs. I don't know, maybe get the fuck out of the toxicity that is Utah in general

I was told that I don't need to leave the state to get a fresh start....
But I do. I really do. The oppressive nature of this place in general has me feeling trapped, and regardless of whom I love here, it will always be the state to hold me prisoner.

My goals are all short term.... I cannot see anything past May of 2022 when I have to decide to renew the lease here, or try to find some place else to live. 

So for now, I'll work, I'll pay off debt. I'll try to save money for when  that time comes. 

And I'll hope that the meds even me out soon, because I miss being manic.

I'm Exhausted

 I'm so incredibly tired.  It's not a fatigue that I can shake. I can sleep for a full day and want more. 

I can drink a coffee and still fall asleep. 

I'm emotionally drained.  Empty. And alone.

Nobody is asking for me to be okay. But when I'm not okay. Consequences happen. My husband leaves, I lose my job, I have to find a new place to live. 

If I were okay I'd have my love, my job, and a home I loved. 

I miss my father. 

I miss having someone ask how my day was. 

I miss sharing small things with my husband. Like mailboxes shaped like dragons or a St. Bernard I see at the dog park. Or how well the dog we adopted is doing. 

But I wasn't okay. And so the person I shared my life with is gone.

I'm not playing a pity party. I dont mean I wasn't okay in the sense that me stating I was unhappy ruined everything. 

I stated I was unhappy well after I had done damage. And damage had been done to me. I am not the full fault here, but I didn't help matters. 

I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling second in life. I want to MOVE. 

After Wednesday broke me. It furthered my resolve. Once I woke up to a new day. Beyond emotionally drained. Happy for that feeling of numbness. 

I'm now tired of being angry. I'm just sad. I'm lonely. 

I have amazing people in my life. And I'm grateful to them. But they fail in comparison to the one who became my everything and is now my nothing. Just so suddenly.  

I can honestly say that Wednesday was terrifying. I scared myself. I worried others. But I woke up to the alarm after a fitful sleep on the couch. 

I can be better than this right? My dreams of a forever love, with a home and dogs. My own business can still happen cant it? 

Or did I screw up everything by not being okay? 

I am tired of being alone.

Sleeping alone. 

But it seems it's where I belong. 

Good night 

One of These Days, I'll Post When I'm Happy

 I've been in a contemplative state. Neither good nor bad, it just is.

I've been wondering if everyone views themselves as the heros, or villains in their own story...

I'm the support character. On a good day. 

A martyr on a bad one.

I genuinely want others in my life to be happy. No matter the self sacrifice it costs to me. I am also needy, and attention whorey without meaning to. 
With the way that things have been going, since getting married, I've been spending more time alone. 
I chat with myself as I walk the dog. 
My internal dialogue is no longer just inside my head, but spoken aloud.
When it is all internal... I'm smoking.

I'd always imagine, someone else asking the questions, and myself answering. Between inhales of smoke, 
In this scenario, I'm chain smoking. Not cigarettes, but cigars. Which is probably brought on by the last time I had too much to drink and gave into that oral fixation.

I'm not a support character, though. I'm me, but I have no idea who that person is. Maybe nobody does. I wear too many masks. I'm that person who would do anything to make someone else happy, even if that means to alter my own personality.... Which is a personality in of itself, is it not?

The husband has been trying to get his book finished, and published. So I won't work so hard to finish mine or publish them. I have postponed honing my baking skills because I have others who want to succeed. I'd study photography more, but honestly? I don't want to be in contest with others. I'll stick with my phone pictures.

The question comes down to, in this situation, am I doing these things BECAUSE I think it would be better than others? Or because I think others are so much better than me?

The wasted potential runs in my family.

I'm getting back into Boudoir, which is more empowering than not. Someone told me that they wish they had my confidence. 
I don't have much self confidence. I do these things because, while I don't understand how or why, I know that others find it appealing. 
At the very least, my husband.

I've been manic for so long, through Covid, through the holidays, the crash has been eternal. I can't seem to find my focus. 
Especially while home alone, more often than not. 
My brain needs a hard reset. But it's been two years since I've done it. I'm proud of myself. 
There has to be another way.

This is the part where another person would ask a question, and I'd take another drag. Tossing the smoke to the black sky.

While I play this scenario in my head over and over again, even fell asleep to it, I can't remember the questions; nor my answers.


I'm not suicidal, which is a huge step for me in this phase, but I'm stuck. Just stuck.
I'm so tired of being stuck, but what would get me unstuck?

Apparently, me wanting companionship while I'm alone, so I'm not alone, is a form of manipulation and using another human.
I just want to be on someone's mind when I'm not around.
I don't think I know what that feels like. 
Out of sight, out of mind.

Maybe this is my mid-life crisis. 

I desperately need to get to the ocean. To hear something more powerful than humans, to stare into the void as if I'm at the edge of a cliff looking over, and yet not feeling fear.

I've had my feet knocked out from under me, as waves try their best to keep me submerged. I've lost footing in a river, I've been sucked down below the currents by quick sand and mud.
And yet. no fear.

Maybe I need to take this time alone, and figure out just who I am. Maybe I'm tired of being the chameleon. Maybe those masks that I wear are what is weighing me down.

But it doesn't change the fact that I feel happiest, when I can help someone else feel happy.
Is it so wrong to have my identity so tied to how much I can do for others?

I suppose it is, when I feel jaded, or discouraged, when they don't return the favor. 

Welcome to the post manic crash. I've been so high for so long. It's long overdue for me to delve into the depths of me and make a nice home.

My usual self destruction has turned inward. (Would it be self destruction if it didn't?) But not in the forms of pain....
Apparently my mentality wants to attack what I am most vain about. I've had dreams of me chopping off the rest of my hair, because "It's awful, and so are you." as I stared myself down in the mirror. 
I've been fighting this urge to take it out on what I used to cherish most, for months.
I cut off 8 inches in December, I hate the cut. I hate how short it is now. I grew my hair out for years to get it to my hips. I chopped it off. 
And now I want to chop it off more.

I want to run away from who I am, and who I was. I need a new me. But why do I want to destroy everything I've valued?

I had a panic attack at work in November. 
The husband was nowhere to be found.
Just like when I was rushed to the hospital,
Just like when my father died.

I don't need someone often. But damn, if it doesn't hurt when the one human I need won't be there.
It would be FINE if I could rely on others. When my father died a good friend offered to pick me up from work and drive me to my parent's house while Doug was ignoring all my phone calls.
The guilt trip that I went to someone else, no... That someone else was coming to my rescue. Isn't worth it.

My panic attack was a rehash of all that; and just like last time; he was with someone else.

Out of sight, Out of mind.

Maybe this year I'll discover who I am.
I say that every year.


Maybe I'll pick a thing and try to hone it, attempt to not waste my own potential.
But again, I say that every year.


I had a dream where someone was telling me I was worth fighting for. Maybe I'll hold onto that dream more than the one where I wanted to cut off all my hair. 

I'm kind of bouncing back and fourth on my topics, but that is the muddied mess that my mindset is in. 

I keep going back to just settling for a physical relationship, maybe a friends with benefits isn't so bad. I have maintained a purely physical relationship for years. It seems to cut out the mess. Cut out the drama. Then it gives incentive for others to spend time with me....

Which is a thing I've been trying to fight. My company should be enough right?
I don't have to bribe with food, or sex?
With the way that I'm seeing the world....
No. It isn't enough. Bribes fully accepted.

I suppose I'll do what I've always done.
Bury all this shit so deep that I'll let it boil over and ruin lives.

Recently, I've been going back to a conversation I had with an old coworker. 

She asked if I was okay, I confessed that I had dark thoughts keep me up.  She went on to say "omg me too! I thought last night that what if i died. Like what would happen to my children?" 

I looked her, dead pan, and said "mine are. 'You could kill yourself but nobody would notice anyway so why bother?'" 

Bribes make people care 

Time to take the dog out for a walk.

adieu