a gentle kind of cruelty...

 

i've been feeling. 

i was reading. 

my general day-to-day has been empty. i've no desire to do anything or see anyone. my depression has reached an ugly, hideous place that is not all too welcome. it's slumped me with the burden of pain, paranoia and discontent. 

primarily, i move on auto-pilot. my actions are those that i know should be taking place, ones that make me look normal and sane and "okay." i do the laundry, cook, blog and smile wearing a mask that helps people to believe that i'm okay, just slightly sad. in this fantasy world i have created i am FINE. there's no problems to talk about and at the end of every day, i am FINE (a word that treatment trained me to associate almost nearly as a curse word purely because it is typically used by individuals only to placate any possible concerned passers-by. a word who's acronym tends to explain that the said "FINE" individual is actually one of four not actually FINE things: Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic or Emotional)

in reality, i hurt. god i hurt. but only on good days do i hurt, most days, i don't feel. i seem to have lost the ability to feel mostly anything. it's almost as though someone came and took everything out of me. my thoughts, hopes, dreams and desires. i just feel like an empty husk of nothing.

i went through all this same crappy-crap when i moved to england... no friends, no family, no job, nothing. i literally feel like i have nothing anymore. nothing to aspire to, nothing to push for, nothing to get excited about. alone and finding myself writing ideas for blogs but not actually finding the energy to sit down and write them.

the other night i was reading an article about an artist by the name of Ray Caesar in a magazine called Hi Fructose. there was one single piece of his art that took my breath away and in the middle of reading his words i had to stop because it hurt. his words touched me a little too hard in a place just far too sensitive for me to cope with. i have to admit that it felt nice to feel, but the feelings, they virtually murdered my tiny, fragile emotions. he discussed his psychological disorders, some of which i also have and he discussed the way that he feels when forced to deal with his past and emotions by way of creating art, which very boldly paralleled with myself and my writing.

and i relay his words... 

"a disorder helps you through childhood but can cause great difficulty as an adult. i must say that making pictures is one thing that has helped me cope and brings all aspects of my personality into play. 

making art is so difficult as well as healing and joyful that we/i need all of us in order to make it. the very act of making pictures for me is a form of compartmentalization that allows me to deal with overwhelming emotions and memories. i create a window into a peaceful world where the 'emotion' or the fragile part of me is protected... i make something gentle but also something that shows a dark side to it and strength. think of my pictures as a sanctuary where one can take out a small piece of pain and allow it to be free -  a place to confront that pain and even care for it. a protected place of color and happiness much like a christmas morning  for a child who is allowed to open the difficult gifts he or she has been given in life. 

it's a double edged sword for me that my pictures are so public as there is a part of me that would rather deal with all this in privacy but my pictures are also who i am in so many ways that i have to wear my life on the walls of a gallery or in the internet...i suppose art for me is that process in which we bear our inner most feelings, trouble and pain; happiness and joy... it's an important form of communication and that is more important than my need for privacy.

(in discussing the above painting, "Revelation") the Sailor is my own kind of metaphor for a traveler or one that explores... she is in a fog; something i have been in for most of my adult life. the light is that sudden knowledge... that overwhelming piece of the pizzle that explains so much, that confrontation with the astonishment that takes you to a new level of understanding. 

most astonishing about these periods of foggy missing time or periods of wasted time is that it felt as if some other thing had taken me over. a realization of having not one but several personalities so i could see and feel them when they appeared, usually in a moment of stress. 

i am then more effectively able to use these diferent parts of myself and that to me is a "Revelation," like living in a fog for many years and suddenly finding you are more than the sum of your parts. 

i think everyone has aspects of what we call "disorders." we all get depressed or manic or compulsive but some of us have such things magnified, sometimes to the power of 10 and others to the power of 100. i think we all have some parts of ourselves we know better than other parts of ourselves. all i do know is art is a great way to sail the seas of the subconscious mind and make a map of that strange world. my work is the map of my mind."

and now, i am here today, feeling raw and emotionless. reading his words helped me to at least find the direction that i need to be going in, but i have no idea how to get there. i have no idea how to turn the lights on and i'm mortified to do it alone. 

i feel as though i've no choice though, seeing as my stupid emotions and mood swings have shunted everyone else out of my way, leaving me feeling like a child who's thrown a giant tantrum and was left alone to deal with it on their own as a means of self-soothing. 

right now, i just want to be held. i am so terrified that all of my pieces are falling apart and i just want someone to hold me and make sure i don't lose myself. 

last night i held Muffin and was terrified to let him go. i held him and he kept attempting to escape but i just pushed my face into his chest harder to stop him from leaving me and seeing my tears. i don't want to lose him, i don't want to lose myself. i am so terrified that he will see me as this broken thing and not want to wait around until i put myself back together again. i just want someone to hold me. make me feel okay. i don't want words, i don't want eye contact, just a cuddle.

eh. i don't know why i've posted this. consume it how you will.

ouchies...

lately.

hrm. lately i feel very much like i'm learning about everything again.

that's to be expected given the state of my life in the last seventeen months. i've been on a road of constant change since even before Christopher and i split up. mental changes, physical changes, address changes, hair colour changes. the list of changes i've seen take place in my life is vast. sometimes i think about it and become so tired that i need to take a break from even just listing the ways my life has altered in the last year and a half... it's astronomical.

right now though. well, in the last two or three weeks; i feel very much like i really lost who i was, or more like... hrm. it's hard to describe. it's like, you know when you go to your iTunes playlist, the one you use for everything... cleaning, sleeping, driving, working out? the playlist that you (if you're like me) spent HOURS tailoring around your life... painstakingly picking out every single song that will light up your activities so you don't have to accidentally stumble across any ugly memories that you just don't want to have to deal with mid-push of the hoover or halfway through your ten-mile hike on the treadmill.

i've got one of those. my epic playlist that i had originally made back in october 2009. the playlist that i had very, VERY stringently created over a series of days. the playlist that, at the time, i created to be both uplifting, but also remind me of some of the less hideous memories i had had with my then-estranged husband. the playlist that, after i was finished compiling it, became a constant source of emotional strength for me, with songs that made me feel like a stronger woman (i still find it weird to call myself a "woman," but i guess at twenty-six i really have no choice, hey?), allowed me to be silly and slowly eased me into the fact that i was now being forced to forge a life on my own and without the boy i had been planning a forever with for nearly seven years prior, all of which could be carried around on a tiny four-square-inch ipod with ease. it's fairly magical, really, to know that i could so easily toss the very core of all my emotional everything into my pocket.

anyways, that playlist was my everything. it really helped me through a lot of dark times. it supported me and never treated me wrong. it was always there when i needed it and occasionally prodded me to feel or re-live things that i didn't, at the time, know i needed, but was very grateful for in the end. in a way, that playlist and those songs, they were ME. they defined me in all my emotional, quirky, dancy glory...

i'm aware all this sounds like the ramblings of a fucking mentalist. i get that, but i'm slowly making my way to an excellent point, i promise.

so, back to the third or fourth paragraph... i feel like i've lost myself. the reason the playlist makes sense is because the way that i feel, in a metaphor, is like my computer got some sort of horrific virus that deleted all my favourite things, including, but not limited to my playlist.

i can imagine not everyone is as neurotic as me and when they lose their playlists it doesn't ruin their lives, but for me, danie, the girl who is overly dramatic about every single tiny thing in the world, when a playlist is lost, i completely lose it. that means that i have to spend another goddamn eight or so hours individually picking out the songs that will be housed in my ipod again.

so. all of this, this losing of myself, it feels like that. like i had this amazing playlist that defined me and helped me get through my days that was very suddenly ripped from me and now, i am here today (and have been for the last several weeks) attempting to FIND that playlist again before i am forced to buckle down and create an entirely new one.

now, i know that just making a new one would be good for me. a lot of people do it and it's cleansing and healthy and blah, blah, fucking blah, but i LIKED my playlist. i LIKED my life and now that it's lost, i just really don't know what the fuck i'm doing every day.

i wake up and don't want to move, i lull around the house until i can muster enough oomph to throw some clothes on for a fag and then come in and look around the room wondering what the hell i'm doing with my life. the excitement i had for baking, crocheting and doing laundry has dulled to a low roar and the things i used to find myself doing every day are now only done when i absolutely can't stand hearing Muffin complain about it anymore (well, that's not entirely true. it's actually more dramatic than anything. i do stuff, just not every day now.)

i've mostly stopped eating and i can't sleep without the aid of a cocktail of melatonin, valium and some other off-brand sleeping medication. i go through short phases occasionally where i literally just don't care about anything. i would take my pills at night hoping that perhaps they would just stop me from having to wake in the morning, only to have them offer me more and more upsetting dreams to wake up and reel back from.

i know, that sounds horrible and ohEMgee dramatic and like a call for help. i don't want anyone to worry, which is why i haven't brought it up before now. i never actually planned-out any suicide attempts or anything, i just really, honestly don't want to have to exist anymore sometimes.

i feel like right now i'm not me. i'm just some person who is completely dependent on Muffin (which completely devastates my confidence) and who nobody wants to hire (despite the five to ten resumes i send out a day, every single day). i feel like i have few friends, a strong but very small support system that's decreasing in mass by the day and just not enough strength sometimes to do anything but sit and snuggle the dog. i don't feel like i benefit anyone's life and only exist to make Muffin annoyed and... well, that's it. my self-confidence is completely non-existent. i've not taken "face" photos in about two weeks because i can't bare the sight of it and i'm just... i don't know. i don't feel like dressing up or putting makeup on or anything.

all of this, this heavy, horrible came to a head a week or so ago when i just completely lost it with Muffin. there were tears, raised voices and a lot of honest realities expressed that worried him. since then he's tried, bless him. he's really making the effort to hold me tighter and for longer. he's really showing me that i have at least one person that loves the shit out of me and wants to see this over so i can resume normal activity.

and can i just say? all those stupid goddamn films that try to make it look like it's a fucking relief to have these little outbursts are lies. i felt worse. i felt like i had laid yet another burden on Muffin, which is why i hadn't said anything to begin with, to him or anyone. i've just kept my silence and hoped this storm would pass or something magical would happen that would pull me out of this stupid, ugly slump.

alas, no. i'm just eating less and waking up later as a result of the extra tablets i'm taking at night, leaving me sluggish and blah throughout the day.

wow, now that that depressing shite is over, i can say that i'm trying. i'm honest-to-goodness trying to make this hurt stop. if Christopher taught me anything, it's that i can't count on anyone else to make this hurt that i have less... the only person i can count on is me. the thing is, how am i meant to count on me when i just don't feel strong enough to do this? i get up and force myself to maintain a routine, i coloured my hairs, i've been putting makeup on and trying to put on a brave face, "faking it to make it" as we used to say in treatment... all of this is doing something, but i don't know what. i'm attempting to re-build that "playlist" in hopes that this new one will make the days easier and will make me slightly stronger if anything, which is all i can hope for, that i will come out of this at the other end with a thicker skin and better head on my shoulders.

we'll see.

parp. i need a fag.

sorry.

face

occasionally, i find it difficult to associate with my face.

i will take photos of myself. raw photos with no makeup, no glitter, no hair product. just my face. i take photos from different angles so i can remember what my nose looks like, the colours that exist in my eyes and the way my mouth turns down ever so slightly in the corners.

i take photos to see if i can remember who i am.

i take these photos and tend to post them on the Book of Face, not telling anyone of the hours i spend agonizing over every tiny detail that can be seen. the spots, wrinkles, colours... i spend so long trying to memorize these details.

i do this because so often i become caught up in the many, MANY emotions, dramas and whatever else is going on in my life that i forget that i am actually a real life human being who has lived. i live so often between all the whims of my existence that i relate myself more to my actions rather than to the minuscule, special physical aspects of my being. mostly, my face. i often forget i have a face.

that sounds stupid, doesn't it?

during the course of my days i find i rarely look at my face.

i will wake up every single morning and walk past my mirror, looking at my tummy and arse, checking to see if they might have magically gotten smaller or more attractive in my sleep. i'll go about my day from there without ever glancing at my face. i'll look at the reflections of my legs in the oven window, my hands as i type my blogs and my thighs as i bathe... but never, ever my face. often times i will go days without actually looking at my face.

this has been my general way of living since i can remember. i never noticed it until about a year ago. i had left for work one morning the same way i always did... toss my clothes on, look in the full-length mirror to make sure my body looked relatively presentable and then left. no attention to my hair and more often than not, no makeup. i just left my face to the elements of the world. the only help i had in realizing what i had been doing for who knows how many months prior to this particular day came from several awkward glances from the other passengers on the bus and then a quick glance at my reflection in the window. what was presented to me was literally a mess of hair. i actually looked like i had escaped from the mental asylum i was about to go start my day where i was employed.

it was about then that i started taking photos of my face. taking them and then looking back at them. comparing them to photos of myself from my childhood or early adolescence. picking out the details that were similar, how i'd changed and what things i liked or didn't like.

this became a ritual for me. i'd take photos about once a week. all of them became a very literal window into how i was feeling that particular moment. furrowed brows, wide eyes, smiles, moist eyeballs... so many details that opened my eyes to the face of me.

this ritual became something i almost needed every week. i needed to be able to look at my face and remember who i was. see what other people see. 

i soon learned the things that i loved most about my face (my nose. my eyeballs. my upper lip. my jawline) and the things i liked least (my eyebrows. my forehead.).

looking over the photos from the last year i can see so many things. i can see how my face has changed. i can see how i was feeling a particular day, depending on how much of my face i would photograph (some days just my lips, eyes or nose. some days my whole face). i could see ways that i would hide certain things using lights or hair to my advantage.

it was only today that it really hit me what i've been doing for the last year-ish. i don't know if it's healthy or not. i don't know if i am happy that i do this or not.

i know i love the photos because i so often am terrified that i might forget things. that's why i take so many photos, to stop me from forgetting. in a way, that's my version of hoarding. photos. memories. images. i need them for fear that i might forget what something or someone looks like.

the photos from today made me sad. my eyes look so  sad. my face so much thinner than i can remember it ever being. i look ill and tired. this comes from a hard week. a hard and emotional week. i'm trudging through a lot of heavy things. i'm hurting. and these photos. they really do show the hurt.

parp. anyway. sorry. that was that.

my body, my choice

overall, things have been okay.

i have been on a bit of a mission to purge the hideous things from my life. Origami, bad attitudes and awful people. i've been successful and feeling generally better about most things, on a slow incline...

the only thing i can't seem to find the ability to stop feeling terrible about constantly is my weight.

i still, today, find myself to be incredibly insecure with my body image.

now, this isn't a cry for help or a blog stating i have any sort of eating disorder, but more a way for me to explain what's happening in my head with regard to my body, weight and general appearance.

like, i can SEE that i've lost a lot of weight. i know that. i peruse old photos of myself starting from when Christopher and i split up and can honestly tell that i have had a drastic change happen to me. 

obviously, i know this from more than photos. i know this from the endless streams of comments and emails i get from people saying that they can't believe how thin i am and that they are worried that i'm not eating and that i have lost so much weight... i get it. i HAVE lost weight. the evidence is right up there and also in front of me every time i step on my scales and see i've lost a little bit more weight (something i do three times a day, after learning that from Christopher. i weigh myself in the morning, afternoon and before bed and average the totals. obsessive? i think so!)

the day Christopher and i split up i weight sixteen and-a-half stone (231 lbs) and now, today, i weigh twelve and-a-half stone(177 lbs). it is very clear that i've lost 54 lbs, i get that, but a lot of the time, i still look at myself and photos that are taken and am shocked by what i see. by how much weight i still hold on to.

when Christopher and i split up i didn't eat. i was depressed and went two weeks living exclusively on water and fags. that's it. so i very quickly lost a stone (14lbs). since then, i just can't find the ability to eat very much in one sitting. the only time i really ever eat very much is when i'm with janey (and that's purely because that's all we EVER really did together, apart from drink, a lot). i am the source of constant jokes from Muffin, saying he can't take me anywhere because i just don't finish eating anything, ever.

i FEEL hungry almost all the time, but typically, the instant i start to prepare food or that food is in front of me, i tend to feel ill and not at all ready to nosh. that lack of desire to eat has nothing to do with my weight, but more... i just don't know. like, i don't see food and immediately feel guilty or want to purge. i just don't feel hungry and typically feel ill when food's put in front of me.

it's a waste of a meal when i cook most nights because if i have eating anything, any tiny, little thing at all to eat during the day, there is no way i will be able to eat more than like, five bites of whatever i serve up for Muffin and myself. it's embarrassing and not at all nice for me.

despite this lack of eating, i just do not seem to be shifting any visible weight. i AM losing weight, but nothing that you can tell. i look in the mirror every day and my bum is just as enormous, along with my hips, thighs and tum. 

i didn't really click that i had a real kind of weight issue until last week. i was out having a fag whilst picking the mail out of the postbox when i caught my visage in the front window of the house. i saw that i am actually quite a lot thinner than i usually see. i sat and thought for a moment about a conversation Muffin and i had had a day or two prior. a conversation that saw me complaining again  about my weight and saw Muffin poking a little fun in reference to an episode of American Dad we had watched recently that focused on Stan having anorexia and seeing himself as physically fat and dieting and working out, when actually, he was emaciated and erupting concern within his family.

again, i must reiterate that i am NOT anorexic, bulimic or anything else you can put a label on. i just have a terrible issue with self-image.

i just don't understand. i don't get why i have such an issue. why i can't look at myself and see that i have made a lot of progress, rather than hate the fact that i haven't made MORE progress.

i know weight loss and body image are a huge issue with the bulk of the world's population, but i just can't shake this feeling. these thoughts that i am still too fat and hideous. i go through "ugly phases" where i just hate my face and body and everything, which i just don't know how to stop.

how do you stop feeling like this? what can i do to make myself love myself more?

he couldn't wait...

laying in bed most of the last week or so has supplied me with some overly dramatic thoughts. ones that i refuse to act on in any sort of emotional manner, but ones that are causing me a great deal of distress overall.

i spend the early hours of most mornings with the left side of my face squished on my pillow with thoughts racing through my mind. thoughts that drive me flipping crazy overall. thoughts that i just can't seem to shake no matter how hard i try. they just prey on me like i'm a tiny injured animal who can't escape and no matter how many sleeping pills i take, they just will not go away. they just push through any sleepy haze i might be in and destroy any kind of respite i might be attempting to achieve. i only seem able to sleep during the days now, after Muffin's left for work, and even that sleep tends to be horrific and filled with dreams that i would rather not have to have (ones that feature Pow being nice to me and us reconciling, which hurts more than anything else, because i then have to wake up knowing that he still hates me and that is just something i hate to deal with. those, they are my worst nightmares right now)

they all culminated into too much for me some night last week when Muffin finally decided to come to bed after yet another five hour Black Ops spree (this seems to be his new, mostly-favourite thing to do, stay up until late, late hours and play Black Ops until i can't stay awake any longer, so i sleep). i was laid in bed attempting to sleep but not succeeding.

he came in and i was silent. i maintained my stone-wall demeanor and listened to the B-52's tell me about the rock lobster until he rustled around loudly, let out a sigh and asked me what i was thinking.

i said i wasn't thinking anything, which he instantly knew was a lie, as he has met me before and anyone who's ever met me knows that i am CONSTANTLY thinking about pretty much everything all the time.

my thinking has traveled between so many different planes of thought over the last, let's says ten days, that i just... i can't seem to get a grip on myself and what's happening in my head. i don't know what my mind is trying to do to me.

like, initially, it started out with my head tormenting me, advising me that Muffin must not love me if he is willing to spend as much time as he does wrapping himself up in computer games, website design and hiding emails from me. my brain was constantly telling me that there is no way that anyone could ever actually care about someone and then try to find as many distractions as he does just to spend time NOT with me. i became unsettled, moody and down. i cried, wrote, talked to janeyface and didn't talk to him.

THAT thinking then developed into me attempting to rationalize what he was doing, but left me completely unable to. i just found myself hurt because every single day that i am with him, i feel glee and pleased to be with him after all this time. i feel thankful for each moment that i get to spend with him, every morning his face is pressed against mine when i wake up, every night i fall asleep as the little spoon and every single tiny millisecond in between. i could happily still just sit with him and not have any other distractions but our own bodies and voices. there's still so much i want to learn about him and us.

he just seems to feel nothing. he doesn't seem to share the same excitement and overall enthusiasm that i do in our finally being together. he doesn't seem to have any interest in learning about me or doing things with me unless they directly benefit him.

we get up, i make him breakfast and lunch, he leaves for work and i tidy, cook, etc until he comes home, at which time i will shower him with kisses and love. most times the shower is brushed off for the meal i cooked and computer games. i tend to remain steadfast and sit beside him whilst he plays, hoping that he will pay attention to me and want to talk about stuff. after a few hours i typically lose interest and prance off into the bedroom in a flurry of kisses and snuggles, hoping to lure him away, but with no luck. the pillows and i cuddle alone for sometimes up to two hours before he even realizes i'm gone and comes to bed.

when i broach this or most other subjects with him he never has anything to say. he stares at me and then ignores it, which tends to leave me feeling rejected, ignored and generally like he doesn't care.


now, last night, my thinking took a sudden and more hurtful turn.

after talking about our future a couple of nights ago i realized that it will be a goddamn long time until we progress any further than "going steady" or whatever it is we're doing. this wouldn't have upset me or preyed on me so much, had we not been planning things for a long time. things that would finally make everything in the world exactly what we, or at least i, had always wanted.

that conversation harassed me for several days and then last night my mind kinda freaked out and realized that he couldn't WAIT to marry his other wives. he got those rings on their fingers as quickly as  he could but with me, no. he wants to wait. he wants to do this magical thing that he calls "right." this thing that he thinks will just make everything so completely different than the things he had before.

why can't he see that the things we have, the things i give him, are substantially greater than the things he's had before?

or are they not? am i no better? just some filler until he realizes that i'm not what he wants?

i have no idea. this is rambly and painful and i needed to get these things out of my head. i just want to feel like he's actually committed to me after all these years. that i am actually the one he plans to stick with. i have no certainties right now, and to be honest, i don't really feel that i deserve them. i just feel like right now, i'd like to talk, and be given a chance, which seems beyond us.

blargh.

The only frontier left now is the heart

Dear You...

i never thought i would have to write this.

this goodbye.

it's more painful than i ever thought it could be, but the nights are getting longer due to the weather and i need to let you out of my head so it'll hurt less in the lengthening hours.

i am writing it and posting it here knowing you will most likely never read it, but also knowing that you, in a bout of rage or emotion or whatever it was, told me you never wanted to see me or speak to me ever again. those harsh words, usually reserved for playground tantrums and menstruating spouses, have been adhered to for just over a month now.

most days and nights i can't watch films or look at photos or listen to songs because of you. because of our history.

it is almost as if more than half of my senses are completely useless because all they do is make me want to die. everything reminds me of you and our friendship and i miss it so much.

some days i have to completely eradicate any thoughts of you from my house, putting the kibosh on any of your music and any films or meals that you and i might have shared for fear that if i were to encounter any of these forbidden things on that particular day, i might fall into a heap of something weepy, painful and all together awful that i don't want to experience.

the nights that i actually do sleep are typically filled with dreams of me seeing you again, sometimes with them bringing light at the end of the tunnel and you being kind and hugging me. other times, most times, you are horrible to me and make me cry so hard in my dreamy sleep that i  rouse with tears in my eyes and nothing to hold on to because Muffin doesn't understand this kind of loss.

god knows he tries. he really tries to listen. i've explained my feelings and emotions to him over and over again and i'm afraid that even now, nearly three months later, he still cannot fully understand more than that i am hurting and have to cry from time to time. he's not experienced a loss like this, so i don't expect him to understand. he holds me, and that's good enough most of the time.


i wonder if you too struggle. if you too find yourself avoiding certain films on the shelf for fear of the memories it will recreate for you.  i'm most scared that you don't feel like i do. that you don't care that this friendship we had is completely gone and has been for over a month now.

am i so disposable that not having me there is the same as having me there?

did all the things you and i go through over the last six years mean nothing more than what a letter and a messy bedroom could easily destroy?

it seems that way. and that hurts.

just know that i miss you. god i miss you so much. i miss your voice and face and kindness. you don't have to stop being kind. please don't.

i heart you squishy. so much.

heart,
dan

"you are now being blocked by this person (click here to find out why)"

it feels like he's hiding.

i've nothing to hide from him... i'm open completely about every movement in my life from emails to photos to phone calls. everything. i do that because that's what i feel a relationship should be. no secrets or anything hidden. i had that with Christopher and it ultimately helped to ruin us.

but Muffin... i feel like i am completely not a part of his life outside of the things that i can DO for him. things that sometimes feel forced behind closed doors. doors that are more often than not closed by his own hand.

daily, i am stuck in this house with nothing to do but laundry, dishes, hoovering and cooking. i've no money and no means to do anything outside of the house beyond walking to the post box at 15:04 (give or take a few minutes) and, when i've got food stamps, to the supermarket to buy more things to cook with.

all of this, the daily routines i seem to have gotten myself stuck in play out week after week. he's out of the house more often than he's in and when he IS in, the time is spent with little or no talking unless i initiate it. i noticed this the other day when i was in the middle of talking and noticed that he hadn't said ANYTHING about his day, despite him having been out of the house for over twenty-four hours and having more than 170 facebook friends (i bring this up because, weather he likes it or not, i update him on even the little things that happen with my friends that i think are special and should be shared, but him, nothing. it's like NONE of them ever do ANYTHING noteworthy at all, ever), he just had nothing not even a peep.

i tell him about even the most little things that might be weird or i think he may be able to offer me insight or support on, like emails from people that are questionable or comments that leave me feeling uncomfortable. but anytime he checks his emails, he does it VERY secretly and is quick to act in an odd way when i walk into the room and his emails are open. which leaves me asking questions, which i don't like. it's either that he hasn't received one SINGLE email in the last three months or that he just doesn't care to share that part of his life with me. which makes me wonder why i bother sharing those parts of my life with him?

i tell him about my days and emotions and life and he rarely has anything to say when i say those words that he's no doubt just as tired of hearing as i am so absolutely tired of saying: "So, how was YOUR day?" or "What have YOU been up to?"

those and any questions like them tend to be met with a sleepy gaze and shrug or are completely ignored.

getting any information out of him is like pulling teeth.

i try to be proactive in his life and help him to see that i'm here to support him and listen to him, but he offers me nothing to go on without me having to more-or-less drag it out of him tiny detail by tiny detail. it's a painstakingly long process that i don't bother doing as often anymore because i feel like i deserve better than that. i feel like i deserve to be respected and to have him WANT to tell me the details of his life because he WANTS me to be a part of it... not because i hassled him until he broke and told me.

he hides things, things which i've found out in round-about ways, things which, to my mind, didn't need hiding. i can understand that he's most likely just so USED to having to hide things that he just does it as the norm, but for me, it's lies. that's what it breaks down to plainly. lies.

i heart simplifying things.

the big things that i notice he's just NOT talking about, which worry me because they are huge things that really, need to be talked about are as follows:

Molly... for whatever reason, he is still very secretive about all things Re: his daughter, which confuses me because he was perfectly fine with me going and hanging out for hours with his son, who he is not really at all close with, but he will do all he can to hide photos of her from me and avoid calling her unless i am out of the room or he is out of the house. it hurts that he is just completely unwilling to discuss anything to do with her at all. the only time i ever get any updates on her is if i extract the information via his famous one-word answers, which tends to take longer than the meager details he even offers me are worth, which makes me wonder why i bothered in the first place. i feel like it is incredibly important that he shares more about her with me, but i feel stupid for having to ask. i feel like, this is the one other person in his life that has a bigger pull on him than i do, but i'm not allowed to know anything about her. it's not jealousy so much as just WHY?! why will he not ever tell me anything about her?! i just don't get it. it feels like he's setting me up to fail when i meet her... like he's not preparing me in any way at all to meet her, which, perhaps is his plan? is that me being rash or over-thinking? perhaps. but with all the blocking he's doing, what else can i think?

his divorce... like, once. that's the number of times he's come to me for support on his emotions or feelings toward his divorce. when i was going through all my crap with Christopher, Muffin was my numero uno, so i went to him when i needed to talk or help processing things. he was a huge help when it came to talking me through my feelings towards my divorce, but it's like he just doesn't want me to know anything at all about whatever the fuck is going on between him and Origami. he comes home occasionally after Behavioural Health appointments and tells me that it was hard because he had to talk about his divorce and then tends to scuttle off into another room after looking notably misty-eyed and sad. beyond that, he will not throw me any other bones. i ask him questions and want to talk to him about it, but he always brushes it off as though he's fine and it doesn't matter when, after seeing him get weepy the other day at the mention of his divorce, i KNOW that it's actually the complete opposite and i should just... i don't know. wait? hope he's willing to come to me EVER when it comes to any of his big stuff. is that what i should do? it feels like if i do that, it'll shove a huge wedge between us that might not offer a salvageable relationship at the end of the day. beyond all the emotional stuff, there's also the fun topic of when the FUCK her shit will be out of the house, which he never fails to make me feel guilty for asking about. she said December but that's clearly not going to happen, so i try to push a little on occasion and ask him what he's gonna do (because if it was me, i would have fucking nixed the bitch ages ago and put "return to sender" on all her post and either put all her stuff on the front lawn after notifying her that it was going to be there or at the very least, fucking billing her for the storage of her shit)... literally, every time i bring that or anything else Re: Origami up, he instantly becomes defensive and moody, which i can empathize with a little, but seriously? having the reminders of her all over the house constantly, every day, is NOT healthy for him and is NOT going to help this process go by any smoother. i don't know if that's what he wants... if he just can't or doesn't want to let go of her for some reason, but he's always quick to remind me that this is HIS house and that i don't pay any rent, which tends to make me feel awful and put me back in my place, so... yeah.

war things... right, so Muffin says he has quite bad PTSD. this comes from three trips to Iraq and seeing a lot of things... things that i know nothing about. things he refuses to tell me anything about, apart from that they are bad. well, "bad" for me is manageable. "bad" for me is something that shouldn't keep you up at night or give you nightmares or severe depression. "bad" for me is an adjective that i reserve the usage of for things like, the taste of the milk when it's gone off or the way i feel this season's Eastbound and Down ended. this is why i know that either he's just not comfortable talking to me about it or that he's... i just don't know. i don't want to push him, but he just KEEPS telling me that he's never felt more comfortable with anyone and that he trusts me more than anyone, so what's the fucking deal? am i just not ever, EVER allowed to know anything about his war stuff? he keeps saying he'll tell me, but nothing has materialized. years have passed with nothing... no information beyond the simple adjective of BAD.



like, do i have to put more than ten years into this relationship to finally have run the gauntlet enough to be awarded this and other precious information in Muffin's life? i just want to be there for him and support him and help him through things, but he just will not let me. at all.

i feel so incredibly helpless... like there's nothing i can do about it. our relationship is hidden from pretty much everyone in HIS life and... oh, i don't know. it all just feels like a big mess sometimes. particularly on days like today, where i'm pining after england and it's cold and windy outside.

i just want this all to feel okay and for us to be an actual couple... no hidden trapdoors, no secrets, no lies, just us. what we've always said we wanted.

blargh.

challenging...

i'm afraid...

i was laid in bed on thanksgiving night, filled with yum yums and realizing something that terrifies me.

during my time in England, the one thing i was and am most thankful for was the opportunity to learn about all the different films, music, food and art that i did.

the realization came because i was watching a film that Muffin had bought. a film that is not too dissimilar to most of the films that he owns/watches. typically, the films are slapstick-y and star adam sandler, rob schneider, seth rogan, will ferrell or some other "funny guy." (here, just now, i feel it very necessary to note that i have NO problem with these films and really, honestly do like them, a lot). i watched the film and enjoyed  it the same way i do all the other films that i watched with Muffin... mindlessly and without having to think or process any meaning or feeling that the director or screenplay writer was trying to get across to the viewer. i watched it and went to sleep without any further thought about the actors or the film... just further thought about england and the experiences i had there...

during my time in england i was constantly being pushed by Christopher, Pow, Janey and other misc people to broaden my horizons when it came to the films that i watched... i arrived on the continent a very naive nineteen-year-old who was raised in Cheyenne, Wyoming and had little or no knowledge of films beyond the mainstream. england and all the creatures i loved most forced me into a world of independent films and foreign films and animations and all things different. initially, i was terrified and fought the introduction of these films into my life with a violent tongue and harsh opinion... i was slowly broken-down by the different things people were introducing me to... vintage horror, black and white, war-themed... i learned to love them all with a new pair of eyes and a new mind. one that now, today, still yearns to see these from time to time.

it's not just films though, this was the case with everything. my culinary and musical palettes were pale in comparison to the ones that all my british favourites had and only after a series of fighting did i finally break down and learn the glory of stodgy european pasta dishes, homemade booze and andrew jackson jihad...

i feel my time in england has served to open my eyes to so many things that most people don't know exist... things people are sometimes scared to approach.

like, when i attempt to introduce a new film to Muffin, it is only after i harass the crap out of him that he finally breaks down and watches it under what i can only imagine is resentful duress.

foods... it's the same. he rarely wants to try anything new and when i DO attempt to put something new in front of him, he just placates me by eating AROUND the things he doesn't like, not even giving the baby corns or bamboo a CHANCE to change his life (and digestive transit).

musically, he's a good boy, but his passion is the music, whereas mine is the words... he'll listen to something, but if it doesn't excite him musically, he will rarely give it another chance... i heart words and i will listen to ANYTHING if the words say something special to me or strike a chord close to my heart...

i don't know, i just feel like i am not being challenged like i used to be. musically, film-wise or gastronomically.

i feel like...

hrm. i need to make friends. that's what i need... i need to go out and find people who i can cook for and show new music and films to, that way i can feel fulfilled in that way, because i am very, VERY aware that it's not healthy to just expect Muffin to fulfill ALL those criteria. to eat EVERY food ever, watch EVERY film ever and listen to ALL the music in the world... it's unreasonable and i need to broaden my people-horizons...

eh, off to make bolognaise and bread... for the third time in the last month.

a bit of crappy crap

► Are you single? nope, happily taken by a beautiful boy.
► Are you happy? overall, yes. overall, i am as happy as i think i can be given my current circumstances. 
► Are you bored? not particularly. i guess a little... but not for the loss of things to do, because i have a shit-ton i could be doing.
► Are you sad? mmm... slightly? i have an overall blah feeling, but i reckon it's from the cold outside and the tired. i should really take a sleep.
► Are you Italian? nope.
► Are you German? nope.
► Are you Asian? i WISH!
► Are you angry? i don't have a single angry bone in my body at the moment.
► Are you Irish? nay.
► Are your parents still married? nah. they divorced a billion years ago.

TEN FACTS
► Birth Place? Cheyenne, Wyoming, USA.
► Hair Color? brown... completely natural.
► Hair Style? constantly out of control. i never know what's happening with it... since i had it shaved i just let it do it's own thing and that's just what it's doing. i heart it though, despite the stupid side-part it's developed all by itself.
► Eye color? i THINK they're green... green and fabulous. i heart my eyeballs.
► Birthday? november 14th.
► Mood? meh.
► Gender? girlier than a lot of girls (see: crocheting, baking, embroidering, sewing, cooking, weeing whilst sat, etc)
► Lefty or Righty? i'm all about the right hand, yo.
► Summer or Winter? i LOVE winter purely because the temperatures don't make me want to kill myself. i HATE being hot and i love snow, so months with an 'r' in them make me happiest.
► Morning or Afternoon? i am ALL about mornings. i am quite possibly the most annoying person EVER first thing in the morning, all bouncy and pleased.

TEN THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love? with such an aching, burning in my chest that i MIGHT die.
► Do you believe in love at first sight? mmhmm... and i participate in this about thirty-six times a day with multiple people and items.
► Who ended your last relationship? hmmm, i said the actual words, but it was a mutual decision.
► Have you ever been hurt? of course i have.
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart? i have, yes. and i'm not proud.
► Are you friends with your ex? well, one of them, no. the last one, kinda? the final one, he's my... hrm.... boyface. 
► Are you afraid of commitment? i CAN be... i am slightly terrified of having to be as adult as is expected of me, but it's all a part of the thrill, yes?
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? just Muffin and Randy.
► Have you ever had a secret admirer? not that i am particularly aware of. i guess the Muffin used to stalk me and when we weren't talking... weirdo.
► Have you ever broken your own heart? oh yes... multiple times. i tend to be the worst for doing that.

TEN THIS OR THAT
► Love or Lust? love
► Lemonade or Iced tea? oh my GOD lemonade... american lemonade!
► Cats or Dogs? dogs!
► A few best friends or many regular friends? a few best.
► Television or Internet? internet.
► Pepsi or Coke? coke! yaycoke!
► Wild night out or romantic night in? well, it depends what company i'm in... i love both. right now i could do with a romantic night in though.
► Pink or Purple? oh my GOD i love pink. purple makes me want to kill myself most of the time.
► Day or Night? mostly day.
► IM or Phone? phone!

TEN HAVE YOU EVER
► Been caught sneaking out? nope. never once (and i did that A LOT as a youth. thanks Muffin)
► Fallen off the stairs? well, not OFF, but i HAVE fallen DOWN some stairs once.
► White water rafted? no, but i quite fancy it.
► Finished an entire jawbreaker? oh yes! i recall it very clearly as well! i was quite young and it was just after the first flinstones movie came out... they had some giant jawbreakers come out with it and i got one. it took me MONTHS but i finished every single last bit of it.
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? sigh. yes. i am living THAT dream pretty constantly.
► Prank called a store? ha! yes! i did that a LOT as a youth with jessica.
► Skipped School? oh yes, mostly during my summer of love with Muffin. i NEVER went to school. we just went from whatever bed we slept in to IHOP and back to bed again. what a glorious summer.
► Wanted to disappear? mmhmm... of course. everyone has those moments.


TEN LAST
► Last phone call? Muffin... he rang to say he was on his way home. weirdo.
► Last person you hung out with? aside from Muffin? Randy and Sarah, i think... on Thanksgiving. but i GUESS i did have a fag and a chat with Ben Jammin' the other night... does that count?
► Last person you hugged? Muffin. just as he was leaving from lunchies. i kept making him come back and hug me.
► Last person you IM'ed? Pow... ages ago. like, in september. i don't get on IM really anymore.
► Last thing you ate? Ramen with leftover ham, Thai sweet chili sauce and lemon pepper in... oh! and sesame oil. NOM. then a Swedish Fish.
► Last thing you drank? cola. 
► Last site you went to? the book of face.
► Last place you were? what? other than here? Muffin and i went driving for a couple of hours yesterday and we went through Puyallup and Lacey and then we went on post for din dins.

RELATIONSHIPS
► Are you in a committed relationship? i guess... yeah. unless we're on post or at wal-mart, in which case i have to be a secret.
► Do you want to be? yeah. i'd like it if things could be more firm and we didn't have to hide but meh...
► When was your last relationship? well, it officially ended on September 18th 2009. 
► Have you ever loved a guy/girl more than anything else in the world? oh yes... the muffin, big time. but this love's not reserved to love-interests. i love janey and pow more than anything else in the world as well.
► Do you still love them? i love them very much, yes.
► Do you like someone right now? SQUEE, yes!

FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along? yeah, more or less. my sisters and i speak regularly and we have a good laugh. i am the apple of my grandparent's eyes and... well, i love my family and they love me.
► Would you say you have a "fucked up life"? not even a little tiny bit. i have a more perfect life than i could have ever imagined possible.
► Have you ever run away from home? nope, and never had the inclination to either.
► If so, how long? x
► Have you ever gotten kicked out? nope.
► If so, how long? x

FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends? nope, i don't hate anybody.
► Do you consider all of your friends good friends? pretty much, yes. obviously, there are a few really lame ones, but overall, my friends are all amazing and i love them for their own special reasons.
► Do you trust all your friends? i trust people that AREN'T my friends. i trust everyone.
► Who are/is your best friend(s)? janeyface, Muffin and ashley. my three most favourites in the world.
► Would you die for them? well... hrm. that's a hard one. maybe?
► Who knows everything about you? pow pow, janey ashley and Muffin. they are the three who know the most ever in the world about me. i guess Muffin knows the most though.

needs vs. wants...

always an epic struggle.

always something people are getting mixed up.

always, constantly something i am personally getting mixed up.

i noticed it more these last few days than i have done before. i've found myself WANTING things but feeling like i NEED them. like i DESERVE them, which is a completely different topic.

like, i know that despite the fact that i WANT Muffin to give me a shag at least once a day, every day, i don't NEED it... it would clearly have it's health benefits, which is how i attempt to justify myself to him when i do that special little sexytime dance that i do before attempting to lure him into my lady trap. i usually ensnare him, but the times i don't, i lie there, listening to him snore, hating him secretly and briefly for not giving into one of my NEEDS that would CLEARLY be beneficial to both of us. i lie there and plot how i will make him feel terrible for missing out on such a magical event... how i will wait it out until HE comes to ME... now, clearly, this is me getting into some other relationship issues that really, aren't even an issue. our bed gets lots of action, but i am terrified of the day that i will fall out of love with sex again, like i did with Christopher. it happened with him and i've no idea how, but i worry a lapse in a day would accelerate that process that i really, absolutely do not want to even begin. so sex, that's a want... not a need. i've rationalized that now and i've come to terms with it.

other things... things i spend my days feeling like i NEED and DESERVE because of the things that i do... i feel like because i do all these things around the house, the tidying, cooking, food shopping, taking care of the dog, i should get presents... like i need positive reinforcement, which in some ways, i guess i do. i am still very much like a child in that i NEED that positive reinforcement to make me want to continue doing the things i do... and all i really ask for in return are fags or colas or other misc things... not big things, but just things, presents, like the stars you would get on your chart in primary school for doing a good job. it's a problem i've had since forever. i've always felt like i DESERVED to have special treats for being a good girl and getting things done... it works in some cases and i feel like for this, it's a bit of a toss up. like, i don't NEED colas or cast iron pots or computer games, but they sure to help me feel like i've done something good enough to deserve it so i should most likely keep doing it... so perhaps that's a difficult one.

i've been thinking today about all the things though, the things that i actually NEED.

this thinking comes after many hissy fits and guilt trips that i am not proud of that have born me many gifts that perhaps i didn't deserve.

this thinking comes after a Thanksgiving where i have seen people with less than me who were seemingly okay.

at the end of all the thinking, all i could come up with came to me at 1648 as i laid in bed with Muffin before he had to get up for his shift. i was laid there imagining what my life would be like without him... without days like today. today has been an amazingly magical day that has filled the house with lots of laughter and music. it's a day that's made all the other bad days disappear.

i was laid there, watching his sleepytime face as Juno McGuff gave birth on the screen behind me, watching his face and realizing that him, the beautiful thing that he and i have, that's all i actually NEED. he makes everything bad go away. he makes everything feel so beautifully okay and i don't know that i will ever find someone that makes things feel as perfect as he does. even our worst days aren't as bad as some of the merely okay days that i had with Christopher.

he's brought something incredibly special out in me and i need him. i need to make everything with myself and him right so that this, us, we can work even more perfectly together than we already do.

so, Muffin, i heart you, and i know you're reading this... just know that you, you're all i need. i need you and i need your love.

thank you.