It started back in February, 2016, when I got my dream job and was flown to California for a week of training.  I knew something was “off” before I left, I knew something was wrong, I knew my anxiety was way off the charts, but I tried to push through. I tried to ignore it. It didn’t work.  I ended up in California, alone, and terrified.  I couldn’t explain what was going on in my head, I just knew I was freaked the hell out.

I then made the biggest mistake of my life, one that would ultimately end my job and my relationship.  Mistakes that would be my eventual demise.  I was in the midst of full-blown mania.

All of those details are still foggy for me, except when I got to the detox facility. It was a big open co-ed bay filled mostly with homeless people and those strung out on various drugs.  Some people were there strictly for a place to sleep. Most terrifying thing I can remember.

I decided to drink, in an effort to cope. Wrong answer.  I proceeded to go on a 3 day bender, mixing alcohol and Ambien and have little to no recollection of what happened in that week.  Wrong answer.  My former boss ended up putting me on a plane back to Texas, where I then decided to drink some more.  I apparently passed out in the airport bathroom and was removed by ambulance in Phoenix, AZ.  The next thing I know, I’m waking up in an emergency room with tubes in my arms and no idea where I am.  

A guy across the bay refused to break eye contact & I was mentally preparing for my 2nd rape of the trip, while simultaneously trying not to die from withdrawal. It was inevitable & owed to me in my sick mind. That random dude’s, too.”

detox facility

I was issued a cot and a trash can, one to dry heave in as I detox. I had to suffer 24 hours before I could get sent to the “rehab” side, where there was food, and beds, and therapy.  I made it.  I spent another 3 days on the therapy side, before I was discharged and sent back to Texas. Of course, there are many details that I’m leaving out, only because I’m too terrified to revisit those feelings and memories. Worst experience of my entire life, hands down.

My first full-blown manic episode, brought on by extreme stress, fear, and sexual assault.  I’m bipolar, I know this.  I chose to not treat it for the past 3 or 4 years, pretending that I no longer needed to. Hell, I don’t know what I was thinking.  I thought maybe I was misdiagnosed, I thought I was strong enough to over-power, out-think the urges I had.  See, bipolar mania makes me feel like I can do anything, that problems don’t really exist or think the ever so present “I’ll worry about that later, everything will be alright.” NONE OF WHICH ARE TRUE. NONE.

When I’m in a manic state, I take risks, I don’t see consequences, I don’t see things as choice.  I believe I’m ok, and that everything will just work out fine. Some people will think this is all bullshit and that everyone has a choice, and to some extent that may be true.  For me, when in a manic state, impulse will always win. Risk, always wins. Always. I only think about myself, what I want to do, and what will make me happy in that moment. I don’t see any further into the future, than the next 5 minutes.  

The most selfish thing a person can do, yet I didn’t know how to stop myself.  I should have been strong enough to resist, I wasn’t.  I needed help. It’s so, so much more than substance abuse.  It’s a mental health issue, one that is very destructive but also very treatable.  If I wasn’t such an asshole and battled this stupid disorder head-on, maybe I wouldn’t be penniless, broken-hearted, and devastated at 38 living with my parents.

I lost the love of my life.  From the moment I heard his voice, I loved that man.  I wanted him. The first time I hugged him, I was home.  I knew, deep down in the deepest parts of my soul, he was in fact my souls’ mate.

And I blew it. 

I hid my disease from him, pretending I didn’t have bipolar and pretending I wasn’t an alcoholic (horrible attempt at hiding with both).  I was afraid to tell him about my baggage.  I also thought that our love was enough “medication” for me and that I could handle it.  I thought his hugs and kisses were all the medication I needed.  It was the beginning of a 2 year downward spiral.  I could keep my shit together for about 3 months at a time, and then I would have a break and go on a bender for a few days, and David would patch me back together, never knowing what was at the heart of it all.  I don’t drink when I’m depressed, I drink when I’m manic.  I drink when I get to the state of mind of not seeing consequences.  I drink when I think I’m strong, and invincible, when I think I can handle it. It sounds like a cop-out, I get it.  I can’t explain why I chose to drink, other than not seeing consequences, at the time.

I understand why David no longer wants me. Who would? I’m a mess.  I have a debilitating mental illness combined with substance abuse issues that have severely impacted my life in a very negative way.  I’m so angry with myself that I ignored the root of the problem for so long.  Why couldn’t I just treat the damn mental illness, and circumvent the substance abuse?   Maybe if I had been upfront with David about my diagnosis this all could have been avoided?  He is literally my every other thought.  I’m drowning in our early memories of when we fell in love, and how hopeful I was.  I never thought in a million years that I would have to see a future without him in it, yet that is my reality.  I miss his arms and his lips and kissing him good-bye in the morning.  I miss his laugh and his eyes.  I miss the way he looks in a t-shirt and jeans.  I miss talking to him about silly things, important things, and just being together.  

He was my BEST friend, my fishing partner, my confidant, and my lover.  Gone.  If the situation were reversed, I would never leave him, I would try to be as strong as I could for him and be there next to him, every step of the way and help him get the help he needs.  I understand not everyone is capable of that, so I’m not angry at him.  I just wish things could be different. I’ve already accepted that I will never get over him, I just have to continue life with that hole in my heart and try to go on anyway.  He was the love of my life, and I ruined it.

I’m now at my parent’s house, feeling abandoned and alone, in a house full of people.  I try to find things to be positive about, like the fact that I found a therapy program that starts next week, where I will hopefully get the help I so desperately need.  I also have an understanding of how lonely I was in Texas.  David was ALL I HAD, period.  I need a bigger support system than just him, which wasn’t fair to him either.  I need to do normal things, other than work and sit in my apartment.  I need to spend time with family and friends and realize how important I am to those that care about me.  I lost that in Texas.  I was so detached and secluded from everyone, which is dangerous for someone like us.  I need to learn to lean on my family and talk about my feelings, instead of hiding and burying them.  I need intensive therapy.

For now, I wake up each day and try to get through it the best I can.  Some days I can manage a smile or two, and that’s what I’m focusing on.  I’m trying my damnedest to see the future and see the positives in life. It.is.a.struggle.  I cry hard, and I cry often.  I miss David, every single day, a thousand different times a day and that is my punishment.  I deserve that.  I just hope one day there’s less pain.  I hope I heal.  I hope.


regret – cube with letters sign with wooden cubes

Here we are again, bitch.

Why does everything I do lead back to grief?

Why do I ruin everything?

Why do I let anxiety run the fucking show?

Why is depression always ready to take the wheel from anxiety?

When was the last time I was truly happy?

Why didn’t I see what I was doing? Saying? Who I was giving my heart to?



The man I loved so deeply, that I just re-connected with and wrote about in Belle. has taken his own life. Not a day has gone by that since we started talking again, that I did not talk to him. Hours long conversations, hundreds of emails, thousands of texts. I don’t know how he did it. I know I have 20 voicemail’s on my phone from him just calling to check on ME.  Every.single.one. starts with “Hey, its Me, just calling to see how your day or (fill in the blank) went.” Everything from doctor’s appointments to dinner, he always asked about me and my happiness. I just talked him the other day. I’M SO FUCKING MAD AT HIM!!!! HOW COULD HE LEAVE ME HERE WITHOUT HIM!  WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?? MY BEST FRIEND IS GONE!!! I know he loved me, I don’t understand!!! ….. I can’t even go to his funeral. I’ve been so worried about him I wrote the following email, as a last stitch effort…..and then I checked his sister’s FB page just to see if it said anything….it did. It was a goodbye to her sweet brother. This is the second piece of heartbreaking information I’ve gotten in the last 24 hours, so that’s why my email is worded the way it is.

Christopher Adam P******, if I don’t hear from you within 24 hours from now, I’m going to message your mother on FB. I can’t function until I know you are ok! I’m also going through a very hard personal crisis and I need my best friend! Fucking message me back “k” if nothing else. I’m checking obituaries man! Stop scaring me like this!!!

I Love you!
I’ll have to write more about him later and give him the eulogy he deserves, as for now, I’ll resume my complete emotional breakdown. This has GOT to be a dream……please just wake the fuck up already!!!

New Life.


So, I’ve been sitting here with this title typed out for about 6 hours now, stumped on what to write.  I thank Welbutrin for that.  I’ve been sober a total of 114 days now, and it’s been pretty easy. I have great medication and a couple hundred hours of therapy to thank for that. I went to my reunion at a bar, and went to a different bar after the reunion was over. While at the second bar, a gentleman purchased and brought over a shot called Rock Lobster (my favorite) and put it down right in front of me and complimented me.  I politely declined and pushed it back in his direction. No sweat. I mentioned this at therapy one evening, and thanked Naltrexone for the complete lack of want for my favorite shot. My therapist corrected me and said Naltrexone is good and effective, but it isn’t THAT effective and that I need to take some credit for the decision.  If you or someone you know is struggling with alcoholism or opiate dependence, please look into this life changing and miracle medication here.

I’ve started my job and now have 1 week left of training, and really like it so far. For working from home, I sure don’t feel alone. We have endless resources and it seems the company really cares about its employees. They sent me a great computer and the training has been extremely thorough. Zero complaints.

My shrink recently put me on a new medication to help with the nightmares that either Welbutrin or Seroquel is causing. The dreams I’ve been experiencing give me PTSD type nightmares, where I’m reliving traumatic events in my life, and dreaming about all new ones. I wake up a couple of times a night sweating head to toe in the midst of a panic attack. Prazosin is a blood pressure medication but so far, has not worked for me. I’m still having bizarre dreams and waking up in a full body sweat. Also, when I wake up a simple flight of stairs leaves me winded and dizzy, when I’m in the best shape I’ve been in, in a very long time.

I’m still jogging/running and am using a phone app called C25K, and I highly recommend it.  You start out, every other day with a 5 minute warm up, then 90 seconds of walking, 60 seconds of jogging for a total of 30 minutes. It has been kicking my ass, but it IS getting easier. I treated myself to a pair of bluetooth wireless sport headphones, with my first paycheck as a reward for sticking with something, that before getting sober, I loathed.  I love the time I spend on the treadmill in solitude. I always do 4 miles, which takes me about 85 minutes. Each time, it gets a little less, and a little less and I’m proud of myself for it. I also want to incorporate some strength training and toning, and will do that soon. I also want to be able to get up early and do my run, before work, instead of after.

The Men

I broke up with Donuts, and I have not missed him, not one second of one day.  I did not cry, I did not care. He took issue with the fact that I do not partake in organized religion and will never become a born again Christian, under any circumstance.  I didn’t like the way he kissed me and he had a certain “creep” factor about him.  I tried, I tried to like the “good guy” and it just didn’t take.  It’s not me, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

I also went out with Chocolate Cake (C.C.)last night, and it was a great evening. We actually went to get dessert at The Cheesecake Factory and I got Chocolate Cake Cheesecake to mark the occasion. It was quite hilarious for me.  C.C. was funny, charming, and sweet, a bit of a change since the last time we were together.  We ended up at a park that kids used to make-out at when we were teenagers, back in the day. So, we did the same, among other things. No regrets. I have zero expectations where C.C. is concerned, if things work out, then they do. No pressure, whatsoever. I do enjoy spending time with him and wouldn’t exactly turn down an opportunity to be exclusive with him, but I’m not rushing it or getting my hopes up.

So, on September 20, David and I’s anniversary, I was weak and sent him an email. I told him I wished him well and hope that he is happy. He responded with this:


I am happy and doing well. Work is pretty much the same and this Note 7 recall is a nightmare. I’m sorry it’s been a week for me to reply, but I have been busy. I’m glad to hear you’re happy with the new job. Congratulations. I’m also glad to hear that you’re still in therapy and it’s helping.

I’ve only been dove hunting twice this season and did not make it down to Sugarland for South zone opener. I have not shot my bow in months. I am so out of practice, I don’t even think I can draw it anymore. But it’s good that you have been practicing and I hope you can hunt at Brent’s this season and be successful.

I often think about how you’re doing, but I have a new life now. As much as I wish I could take things back, I know we can’t change the past.

I also wish you well and hope you continue to make good decisions to better your life.  Keep up the good work.


What a condescending, rude, ass. He doesn’t have a fucking new life, he has a fucking new girlfriend.  I am the one with a new life. My life was the one that was flipped completely upside down, having to start over from scratch. I’m the one that changed everything about myself, for the better. I’m sure he is still getting wasted every night, and it is only a matter of time until his whore figures out, he isn’t who he pretends to be in the beginning.  I just keep hearing “new life” in his voice, over and over in my head. Fuck him! What does he mean, I wish I could take things back? Honestly, I don’t care. Do I still miss him, yes. Do I still love him, possibly. However, he is toxic, in every sense of the word and I could not see myself back with him, under any circumstance.  I am honestly, and truly enjoying being single and have no plans to change that, any time soon.

New life? My ass!

90 Days

In a little less than 4 calendar days I will be 90 days clean and sober. I’ve learned more about myself in the last three months, than in the past 5 years combined. In my last post Stagnant I wrote about hitting “the wall” and I’m still there. Bored to tears with talking, reading, writing, and attending therapy. I’ve been doing my best to write in my gratitude journal daily, but I don’t.

I’m starting to get antsy about the upcoming days, as I usually relapse around this time, especially if I have some kind of drama or anniversary date around that time. Well, I’ve got a quadruple whammy. David and my anniversary is the same day as my 90 day mark, I’m about to end things with guy #2 that I mentioned in Stagnant, about to start a new job, and my 20 year high school reunion are all in the same week.  To most people, these are just normal life events, but when my sobriety is at stake it makes my anxiety go into overdrive. So, send me some positive vibes, please?


The Men

I feel like I need a sub-blog to cover my dating life, but since my stupid mental disorder always plays a significant role, I’ll go ahead and keep it here. So, to recap from my last post, there were 2 guys that I was interested in and my therapist came up with nicknames for the two.  #1 is Chocolate Cake and #2 is Donuts.  She used this analogy because I’d prefer chocolate cake, but donuts can be good too.  So, I ended up going out with donuts, and it was ok.  He picked me up and had the whole night planned. We went to a nice Italian restaurant and then to the drive-in.  I shit you not, the first date I went on with Chocolate Cake was to the drive-in, as well.  So, back to donuts…..I kept things pretty PG at the movie, but then we decided to go back to his place and sit out on the deck and talk.  Well, I got a terrible headache on the way to his house, so we decided to just stay inside and watch some Netflix and chill.  I ended up staying the night, but all we did was make-out, no real sparks to speak of.  He then asked to see me again that Wednesday and we went on another date. While sitting across the table, I started to get the butterflies and sparks, and then it was game on.  We came back to my place and sat on the porch swing for 3 hours just talking, and making out. I was ecstatic.  I was thinking donuts are great, forget about the damn Chocolate Cake.

We’ve been on at least 5 dates since, to include staying over at his house for 3 nights.  I divulged the bipolar and alcoholism in it’s entirety and he seemed fine with it all.  He knows that I attend therapy and how often I go, and is always telling me how proud of me his is.  Well, now out of the blue, he’s starting to pull back, just like Chocolate Cake did.  Which brings me to another topic, Chocolate Cake actually had the balls to tell me that there is no way he’d allow someone with a mental disorder around his children, even though I’m medicated and not exhibiting any symptoms.  So, that explains why he backed off in a hurry.  How can I not suspect the same thing about Donuts?  I mean seriously, this shit is getting old. I’m more than likely going to be ending things with Donuts this coming Wednesday, things just aren’t going the way I had hoped.  It’s Monday, and he’s already trying to back out of our planned overnight date on Wednesday, and he backed out of our planned date that was supposed to happen yesterday.  Fool me once, shame on you…..fool me twice…..   I just can’t put up with someone who doesn’t make me a priority and I have never been able to tolerate someone who stands me up.  I’m getting encouragement from friends saying to just slow down and give him some space to come to terms with my issues, so I may do that too.  Fuck, I don’t know.  I’m just so iffy about it all.

Want a good laugh? Chocolate Cake keeps texting me and has requested to see me this week. The shallow part of me is like, “sure, why not.”  If for no other reason to stare at him. Lol. We’ll see. I’m flying by the seat of my pants.

I also have an old flame from Colorado that has been trying to get me back since February. I think I’ll nickname him “Cookies.” He is in Dallas (of all fucking places) going to a school for 3 weeks and is going to get my stuff from David. Finally!!  Well, technically from David’s cousin, whom I am still friends with. Cookies did not want to meet David face to face, as he felt he might end up in jail if he did.  Now those loose ties will be taken care of. Mixed feelings about that.  I sure do have my hands full. LOL. I definitely have strong feelings and love for Cookies, but I have reservations about him.  He’s 32, never married, no kids. Therefore, breaking all my new dating rules.  Although, as I’m finding out with both Chocolate Cake and Donuts, kids complicate things.  Not saying it’s a deal breaker, but it is something new to me, for sure.  With Cookies, I’d be the priority 100% of the time, and at least he’s persistent. Guess I’ll be talking to Danielle about this soon, because I have no idea what the fuck to do. GAAAHHHHH!!!!

If anyone has any advice, hit me with it! PLEASE!!!


In addiction recovery there is a phenomena that occurs, called “The Wall.”  It’s basically when you’ve been sober for a period of time and just feel stagnant in your therapy. It almost always follows the “pink cloud” which is described as a time when the addict/alcoholic is super motivated with recovery and is in like a honeymoon phase.  To me, it just sounds like mania followed by depression, and that’s what it feels like. I’m there. I’ve hit “the wall.”

I haven’t written in nearly a month because I’m just so over talking about my feelings and therapy in general. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going, but I’ve definitely slacked off a bit with that too. I’ve also been busy with projects around the house, been dating a bit, and fishing a little. I had a 3 day period last week that I disguised as sickness, but was honestly depressed and slept as much as possible for those 3 days. The depression episode followed a week or so of mania, in which I went on a few dates with a new guy that I’m incredibly attracted to and had a great time. I’m having a hard time remembering anything else that went on during that week. Weird.

I’ve also been on my new increased dosage of medications for almost a month now.  I think it’s fair to say that it’s helping a little. I’m not spiking so dramatically and so often, but the roller coaster continues. I don’t appreciate 3 days of such severe depression that I literally couldn’t get out of bed, and will be mentioning that to the shrink on my next appointment.

As far as my personal life goes, well, it’s kind of up in the air. The guy that I went out with during my mania is great and I really, really like him.  He, however, does not want anything serious right now, for various reasons.  I, of course, do.  I’m also supposed to go out with another guy that I met online this coming Saturday, but I just don’t know if the physical attraction is there. I’m trying to think of reasons not to go, but I also feel like I should at least meet with the guy and see if a spark ignites.  I’m not good at juggling, and I feel a bit disingenuous when I really want to be going out with guy #1.

As usual, I’m still thinking about David a lot, but in a different way.  I saw that he finally updated his Facebook status to “in a relationship” so I assume things are working out for him and the home-wrecking whore. Good for them. He still hasn’t sent my belongings, so I don’t know what that is about. I honestly don’t understand how he can sit in that apartment and NOT see me everywhere. I bought every single thing under that roof, except for the mattress and the TV. I miss our cat and I wonder if he is taking good care of her. I miss them both, even though I know I shouldn’t and don’t want to.



pixlr_20160731004022844This is my homework assignment from my amazing counselor Danielle, a journal in which I am to write one positive thing about myself, daily.  It has taken me 3 days to make my first entry.  So, at the top of page 1, I scribbled “I look great tan” in cursive. Danielle assigned this to me after I spent an hour with her on Thursday, blubbering about David and dragging myself through the mud in the process.  She went on to tell me that I am horrible to myself and that I don’t get to own everything bad that has happened to me. Danielle explained to me that I was taking ownership of too many things and I don’t give myself ANY credit for anything positive, but am quick to take the blame for all the negatives. No shit. I’ve always said that I punish myself enough, that no one needs to do it for me, and she confirmed it.

I also told her I am SO sick of still hurting over David and I want to just be done with it. She doesn’t think that is going to happen anytime soon. I also finally told her all the details of what happened in California, as I explained in my post Ruined.  Well, most of them anyway. Danielle has a whole new perspective of what’s really going on with me, and I now have a whole new treatment plan. I asked what her thoughts were about Borderline Personality Disorder, and she said she was already thinking about that before I mentioned it and thinks it’s a strong possibility. She also said that I have a pretty severe case of PTSD and we absolutely have to address that, and soon.  I explained to her that it is extremely difficult for me to discuss, and that I’ll do anything to get over it. That’s the thing about all of this, I’ll do anything to get better. Anything.

I’m so stuck in Davidland that I’m finding it hard to function or think about anything else. Danielle believes that it is partially projection, as it’s easier for me to be angry and obsessed with my relationship with David than to be upset about my kids leaving. I feel like she might be right about that one. She, of course, reminded me that this man stood by and did nothing as I tried to kill myself, on multiple occasions and abandoned me when I needed him most. She encouraged me to think about the negatives of him and remind myself that he is, at best, a narcissist and a potential sociopath. I mean, he’s a BIG reason I’m sitting in her office to begin with, for fucks sake. Repeat after me: “Those things are bad, Emily. David is bad for you, Emily. David does not love you, Emily. Let go.”

I found myself looking up ECT therapy today, for real. Like, can they just shock the shit out of me and make me not hurt anymore? Can they shock the sad and depression out of me? If so, sign me up!  I’m desperate to feel some happiness and elation. I still only feel sadness, anger, guilt, remorse, abandonment, and depression. There have been several instances where “on paper” I should be happy, but I feel N-O-T-H-I-N-G.  I have an appointment with an actual prescribing psychiatrist on Wednesday, and I am to mention all the things above and my rapid cycling. I want to feel elation and excitement again, more than I can say.

So, for now, I’ll continue to struggle with coming up with one positive thing about myself, per day, to add to my little orange journal. I’m also hoping that will get easier at some point, as well.

God…..how did I get here?

Shared from WordPress

Stages of Grief: Anger – http://wp.me/p7Gkz4-13



Davidland, the opposite of Disneyland. I get stuck there sometimes, check that, abandoned there. Every time I think of him or hear his name the first words that comes to mind is Abandoned or Betrayed.  I then feel sick to my stomach and proceed to have obsessive thought, after obsessive thought about what he did to me and what he must be doing now. I start to travel down the rabbit hole of depression and start to hate myself and second guess every single thing I ever did in our 1.5 year relationship. I hear every lie he ever told me, I feel every hug, every kiss. All lies.  I’m sick, he’s sick, the whole situation is nothing but toxic.

Why do I do this?  Why do I let myself rehash the pain, over and over?   I dream about him almost nightly, and the stupidest thing someone says or does triggers a memory.  I told someone once in a blog comment that I think I could be on the moon, and somehow I’d be reminded of him. There is no out-running my memories. Think shock therapy could help me with that?  I swear, I would do A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G to just forget him. I’m tired of waiting for time to heal my wounds. What if time doesn’t? Then I’m stuck with this sickening feeling forever?  It’s enough to make me take up the ridiculous option of prayer. Almost.

On the complete opposite side of the feelings spectrum, I spoke with Chris again yesterday. Still smiling about that. We had a great talk, as usual, and there was brief discussion about me moving back to the state he lives in for a job opportunity.  I can’t see that happening any time soon, but I’m not ruling it out either. I really liked living there and it’s extremely tempting. I just don’t know if it’s the right time, yet. The only thing that seems to get me out of the hell that is Davidland, is plugging in my headphones and listening to our song on repeat. It’s impossible to think of anyone else while it’s playing. We didn’t have a perfect relationship, but I hold what we did have very close and dear to my heart. I still get intense butterflies and my heart starts to race and I get a little sweaty when I think about him, so, why not? I’m certain he would not mind that he is inadvertently helping me through this hard time in my life. In my eyes, he is such a wonderful man. Random side note: I miss his blue eyes and maybe his lips, a little.

The boys are leaving to go back to their dad’s tomorrow. I’m not even close to being ready. Although, I will more than likely get to see them over Christmas break, which is an unexpected blessing. I’m going to do everything within my power to make that happen.

I’ve also upped my game on the job search. Finding a job is now my full-time job. I am also hoping to go back to school within the next year.  I have always wanted to help people and I want to become a substance abuse counselor for co-occuring disorders and eventually a patient advocate.  I want to be able to speak on behalf of those who can’t. Whether they are lost in their addictions or are in mental health crisis. There is NOTHING more fulfilling in life, than helping those in need. Nothing.  So, that is my update for now.  Hope everyone out there is well, and if you are not, that you are finding the support and help you need.




This blogger nailed it. Completely nailed what depression is like.  Thank you for sharing. 


What does depression actually feel like? What’s it like living with an anxiety disorder? I have no doubt it’s different from one person to another but here is my description, my experience… My life. It’s like a big black vortex. Intrusive thoughts and emotions go round and round blinding you more each day. You have […]

via Mourning the loss of myself… May I rest in peace. 🙏🏻 — Life on the Borderline…


I’ve been rapid cycling the last few days and it’s getting old.  I’ve also been extremely short-tempered. So much so, that listening to certain individuals speak is too much for me.  I’ve been snapping at my parents and my kids for the smallest of things and it’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience when I do. I know what I’m saying is ridiculous and I shouldn’t be getting mad, but I can’t help it. Mom blames the Wellbutrin because when she took it, it made her angry.  Well, the woman is never NOT angry, so I don’t know how the hell she could tell the difference.  I spent 45 minutes speaking about her in my last counseling session on Friday, so I’m not going to waste keystrokes on it today.  I could start an entire new blog just about my relationship with my mother, but I won’t.  Even my therapist was floored by the things I was telling her about my childhood and recent events inside this house. Fucking shit show.

The boys are leaving to go to their father’s this coming Wednesday, and I potentially won’t see them until next summer. The only way I will see them is if I fly to Florida to see them. Without having a job and trying to get my own place soon, I don’t foresee that happening, but who knows?  Thank God for Skype. It’s been a good, but fast summer. I’m sitting here typing this looking at my youngest son, and my heart is breaking. When I look at them, it’s like I’m trying to memorize every single thing I can because I know I’m missing so much. I’m excited for them, as they have moved to a great new place with an even more awesome school district and they will have tons to do.  I can’t help but already start to miss them. The pain that I experience on a daily basis as a result of not seeing my children every day is unbearable. Every day is a struggle when they aren’t with me. It’s not fair.

I was talking to my best friend last night and I mentioned that this is the first time since I was 17 years old that I don’t have a man in my life that loves me.  I honestly feel so lost and incomplete.  I know, I know….I’m supposed to work on me.  Which is exactly what the fuck I am doing. I still don’t get why working on me requires me to be lonely?  If one more person tells me I have to love myself before I love anyone else, should fear for their safety. I DO love myself. I’m a fucking addict, believe me when I say, we love ourselves.  I want to feel loved, I want to be seen, and I want to be understood.  I want to know that I matter to someone who isn’t required to love me, like my family. I miss that butterflies feeling and the connection you get with someone you wake up next to.

I did miss David today, which is nothing new.  I go back and forth between hoping he is dead to hoping he pulls in the driveway some day.  I no longer fight the feelings I have, nor do I try to glorify them in my head.  I have to keep reminding myself that this man was in fact cheating on me, that he let me nearly die, and he does not love me.  That he let me blame myself and suffer intensely for weeks, because he was too chicken shit to tell me he was fucking around with his co-worker all along.  I do find some solace in the fact that his relationship with the whore from the office will NEVER work.  I don’t care what the bitch says, the fact that he cheated on me to get with her, will always be in the back of her head.  It’s just a matter of time until he does it again.  I’m hoping she does it to him, so he can feel that unbearable pain that I felt.

Also missing Chris today. I always listen to music when I write my blog and I literally have “Night Train” on repeat. I keep replaying the night we met, and all the times afterwards. Best kisser. Ever.  Among other things. I used to lay in his arms and we would talk and kiss and talk some more and make love over and over for hours on end. I could tell him anything and everything and he would never judge me, but always support me.  He was also very good at setting boundaries and never letting me think something false or get my hopes up about something that would never happen.  That’s a pretty important thing with people with anxiety.  We always need to know where we stand with someone, and I never doubted that with Chris. God, I miss him. I’d give anything to spend one more night with him.