TRANSLATING SYMPTOMS

Dear 2.10,
I know you don’t have the foggiest idea what’s going on with me so let me try my best to explain. My reactions, over-reactions, withdrawal, quietness, seeming control-seeking, and “mowing over” behaviors are my fear, hurt, and multitude of uncertainties stuffed just below the surface and spilling over when tipped. I act like we’re in some future building situation when in reality, we have never discussed that. We discuss trips we’d like to take, but we don’t discuss fundamentals of coexistence or anything. We are companions who lead parallel lives.

I do apologize for my projections, and they are many. I tore out a quote the other day that said “What you don’t see with your eyes don’t invent with your heart.” And it struck me that’s exactly what I’ve done. We’ve never discussed any future-building and I was acting as if we had. A couple months ago I had myself completely convinced. So you see, even though the situation I believed existed didn’t, my hurts and fears remain hard to shake. I’m in my shell and react like some caged animal with a compound fracture, I know it. I hate it. I hate myself for the role I’ve played in putting me here. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt worse about myself. See I don’t know how to know anything between us since I can’t ask with an expectation of truth, and I don’t know how to go on like that. Under the circumstances, I have legitimate questions to ask in an effort to feel better, or understand, or at least know what is so I can plan my life, but I’m not allowed. Is it any wonder I feel like I’m in some directionless holding pattern?

I, possible though not likely, could’ve died last month. I don’t know why my brain’s having such a hard time wrapping itself around that but it’s eerie to me that I’ve been telling you for the past year that it feels like life is slipping away, just days expiring one after the other, and then they almost slipped completely. We have no direction and I guess that’s an invaluable marker to me. Sure I can get direction on my own but that would forego you and I love you. We don’t feel grounded again; we did (my fantasy couple months), but we don’t now. I know, you told me to figure it all out for myself, but apparently I can’t if I’m in this. And is that really fair? Have you ever wondered how many times you could break me? Have you ever wondered if there was a point of no return where I wouldn’t be able to put myself back together again? Has it even crossed your mind?

I’m trying to make life decisions here; these are our lives, this is important. In my mind and your words and actions this is clearly more than a dating relationship, hence the impact, but is it? Maybe that’s just another delusion. How can this be great on the surface with such major chinks in the foundation? I don't understand their ability to coexist. Regardless, I put my every last bit and all into this last round. I held nothing back. I handed over compassion and understanding I didn’t know I was capable of, believing the results. Are you seriously surprised after the road we’ve been down that my comfort level and trust haven’t just sprung back this time? I mean I know you think they should because you said you were sorry and it would make you feel better, but do you honestly think that’s realistic? I know on the surface you’re doing everything you can, but why at this point do I have so many questions? I’m trying to get an accurate account of us (without knowing the good I’m sure an outsider would find it embarrassingly obvious). There are some things I need explained, and I need you to tell me how to go about being comfortable with them. To begin….

I MISS

Dear 2.10,
It’s like a vacuum has sucked me backwards into some deep dark hole. I want to reach out for you but invisible shackles bind. It’s a strange sensation. It’s like a puppy snubbed on the nose when it moves toward the light. I don’t give myself permission to smile, joke, or interact. I contribute nothing. Have you noticed? Or is it easier this way when to have all those things flowing would bring with them questions, curiosities, and fears? It strikes me as impossible to shut down certain areas while maintaining a healthy existence in others. Our system, running consciously, is an interconnected whole; you can’t exterminate an element without disrupting others. If only. It’s quite imaginable I’d have no problems if that were possible.

I don’t know how to reach beyond the void. I don’t seem to be bouncing back this time. I’m clearly not some Bobo doll springing up after repeated punches; or maybe I was but the deflation of chronic incidents has left nothing but an unresponsive pile of decorated plastic that is now me. I miss you. I miss me. I miss feeling like we were on our way to something. I miss.

WHAT'S IT REALLY WORTH TO YOU

Dear 2.10,
Maybe you could put your Dr. on the spot for some ideas. You know, get your moneys worth instead of passively rendering him a scrip’ writer by asking no questions and putting responsibility on your meds. Maybe you could ask him how to rebuild trust and relationship damage. Maybe you could probe him about what I, your primary relationship, might be going through and what can be done. What about exploring the sensation of coming clean by telling him what was (is?) really going on with your supposed improvement. Tell him how you don’t consider overindulgence self medicating as long as your name’s on the label. Tell him how you can and do get all the meds you want from another doctor too. Tell him how polished you’ve gotten at looking me in the eye and lying, time after time after time and don’t feel a thing when doing it. Tell him how you think I’m responsible for dealing with the impact of that on my own regardless of the chronic nature and long history. And since I am the biggest enabler in your life, or at least tied with your dad, ask him if you’d be better off if I left. I mean you do this over and over; I remain or come back, what can possibly be learned, right? And how can you possibly respect what’s left of me? I’m a shell. And I know it. And it sickens me.

What can I possibly look forward to if you reserve this as reasonable and at your convenience? Does he think anything healthy can come out of your apparent entitlement to that? Does he think smoking pot once in awhile (right) because you can’t handle the ‘stuff’ that is life isn’t that big of deal? If so he obviously isn’t taking into consideration an accurate history and the repercussions it’s had on your life and the health of this relationship and the individuals involved. Why don’t you tell him about that? I mean you’re paying for him, and this is your recovery. What’s it really worth to you? What are we really worth to you?

THIS IS NOT EXTRAORDINARY

Dear 2.10,
I am hollow. I am sadder than I have ever been. You knew damn good and well what was on the line and that I’d pulled out all the stops and ventured further out on a limb for you than I’d ever been. You knew this was a big deal, our last best effort. You knew. You disregarded. You crushed what had grown. I am sinking. Floundering and sinking. You don’t recognize this because you haven’t been around all the other times I’ve had to put myself back together. I’ve been the come back kid for 5 years, but now I feel nothing but dead. Your disregard in this fundamental respect (which you brush off as a minor infraction, clearly not heeding the impact) is dehumanizing beyond what your kindnesses are designed to gloss over. You think that because you’re nice most of the time that honesty and backbone are optional. And I’m supposed to reconcile all this myself you say. Well, as hard as it is to come to grips with, I’m beginning to admit that, if in fact I am reconciling all this myself, it certainly won’t be here.

It doesn’t matter how much I love you, I need someone who wants to build a future with me. I need someone who pursues honesty and integrity because they're the right thing to do. I need someone who can stand up to the ‘stuff’ that is life without getting stoned (etcetera, etcetera). I need someone who doesn’t rely on excuses and cop outs. In order to smile, I need the peace that trust makes possible. I need a partner. This is not extraordinary.

I CAN'T DO 'FURTHER TO FALL'

Dear 2.10 –
I wonder. I spend countless hours researching and studying and working towards understanding what you’re going through and what can be done and how you can cope and how I can support. Do you spend even a minute wondering what I’m going through? Researching, studying, or trying to understand my load? Wondering how severely I’m broken this time? Wondering if you’ve finally breached my point of no return? Have you ever considered that? I doubt it. “You’re gonna have to figure it out for yourself,” you say. Nice.

I’m gonna have to figure it out for myself. Huh. Well, I can’t. I CAN’T. CANNOT. No one ‘in’ a partnership can, it defies the definition. If I’m to figure out ‘us’ myself then I guess I’m even more single than you would on the surface have it seem.

But all in all, I really am single aren’t I? I’m a companion, the body that keeps you from being alone all the time, but it’s your dad you plan and manage your life with. You guys decide where you live, your work, what you drive, heck he's talking about what kind of water treatment you WILL put in your house some day. HE OWNS YOUR SIGNATURE! You believe every changing thing that comes out of his mouth regardless of whim, subjectivity, or basis in fact, and you let it decide your life. A life which you supposedly share with me but really it’s really just parallel lives we’re leading isn’t it? How convenient and devoid of responsibilities that is for you.

You’re ‘so much better’? In a sense. True you quit doing certain drugs, but you threaten our relationship and hurt me with the same lies and actions as when you weren’t ‘so much better’; so really, what is gained for me here? Granted you’re not playing Russian Roulette with your body everyday, but how about the underlying emotional behaviors and thought patterns? I mean, what do we have to look forward to as you get even ‘better’ if you’re ‘so much better’ now and this ridiculousness still exists? Further to fall when we repeat this nonsense? I can't do further to fall. Further to fall suggests that I can get back up from this one and remain here, and we don't know that yet. I don't know. And I'm clawing and crying to know how to know.

COMFORT IN STEPS

Dear 2.10,
I miss you. I can only equate this to mourning. Does that mean I’ve passed my personal point of no return? I fear it does but I don’t know right now. I’m not in a physical or emotional place to be drawing definitive conclusions about anything. An argument could be levied for procrastination on my part, and that may be partially true, but my body and mind are far from sound right now; improving daily, but not yet there.

I’m taking steps everyday, physically and emotionally, and I recognize some comfort in that; little premiums placed on myself hint of good. I walk more each day. As long as my body is tolerant, I ask myself if I’ve got anything better to do (roll my eyes at the sarcasm), and keep walking; a little further everyday. So slow it may not qualify as exercise but at least as increasing mobility.

I’m writing again! It’s amazing. These pages are my liberation or path to it. These purgings reek of redundancy and some may say self pity, but in the absence of close friends or a support group or therapist, they are my way of flushing and ruminating, and examining and searching; they are my pressure valve and pursuit of clarity.

I spend hours researching and reading online; about ADD, OCD, GA, addiction, depression, codependence, compulsive lying, attachment, relationships; anything that might help. Regardless the issue, self-education has always been my approach, and I’ve consciously put that back into play. It’s my way of taking action. I never feel as free as when I’m writing. It feels indescribably constructive.

Reading blogs by people with anything relevant to say, discovering common paths and challenges, has been the most enlightening, comforting, and perspective lending element. It lessens the isolation a bit and quells the ‘Am I going crazy?’ feelings. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone but it’s amazing to know people can relate; that our experiences share so many similarities and our situation is far from unique.

So I am actively trying to move out of this emotional paralysis. As much as it feels like once again I’m doing all the work, it’s ultimately me who pays if I don’t.

I pay constant gratitude to a patient universe, whose skills of listening and absorption and guidance go unmatched. I wish so many good things for you, but more than anything 2.10, I wish that you could experience the same. There’s nothing like it, and there’s no going back. Best of all, it’s ours for the taking.

I HAVE SO MUCH TO GIVE

Dear 2.10,
I have so much to give and I miss giving it. Humor, uplift, energy, tidbits of information, empathy, encouragement, sweet goofiness; I miss it all. This is not me. This runs so completely counter to my giving, affectionate nature. It’s like swimming upstream but the torrent, akin to a voluntary muscle, a protective reflex, wins now. It’s hardwired. Interfering would mean losing and eye, or getting hit by a bus. The equivalent of what has happened each time I’ve overrode the system on your behalf.

Each override has occurred after increasing intervals of distance as each swipe cut deeper compounded by the last. How long the numb, empty sadness this time? How long to get my feet under me where you’re concerned? Ever? It’s strange, but I don’t even feel myself trying. Defeat is what I feel. Punched in the gut and still sitting on the floor, but this time with a white flag in my hand. Maybe the temporary lack of physical wherewithal is contributing, or maybe I truly am defeated. I’m not sure. I'm truly not sure this time.

P.S. - You know what's the biggest shame? I'm not the only one with so much to give, so are you. You have SO much to give, and are much more so than I in certain ways right now, but withdrawal has dampened my ability to receive and reciprocate, which undermines both of our efforts. What a ridiculous shame and waste of two people who do love each other.

I'M AFRAID OF YOU

Dear 2.10,
I’m afraid of you. I wonder if that ever crosses your mind and how it feels. Is it powerful? Does your patriarchal, chauvinistic upbringing suggest this is appropriate male/female relations? I am afraid of you. Do you get that? My heart is afraid of you. Loving anyone hands over the power to wound and I can’t trust you won’t. Do you realize there’s not even a hint of relationship in that statement? How does anyone reconcile that with the sweet, loving presence of daily life? How can we ever be healthy if that’s the yin and I never know when the yang will show up? Do you have the first clue how confusing and deeply disturbing this is?

The dull ache remains as the razor edged pain of the latest infraction subsides. Naturally this is when I begin to relax back into the normalcy of laughing, sharing, and affection; but I’m afraid and I hold back. I’m afraid to let myself enjoy anything, as if it’s easier to have nowhere to fall. But what kind of existence is that? I know we could be goofing and having fun and enjoying each others company, but it’s like my arms are tied at my sides in this deep dark hole and there’s a numbing protective buffer that filters everything down to a murmur. And I’m aware of it. And this deep, awful sadness accompanies it as I watch myself. It’s such a loss. Is it a greater or lesser loss than subscribing to you once again as if honesty was a reasonable and mutual expectation? This is what I don't know.

THE ME I USED TO BE

Dear 2.10,
Do you remember the me I used to be? The brimming with possibilities, positive, secure, magnetic, light up a room, me? The motivated, witty, athletic, I-can-do-anything, me?
Yeh….so do I.

Where do we go when we don’t recognize ourselves anymore? Do we become invisible? Or just numb to everything except the heartache? Like water on rock such transformations clearly don’t happen over night. Something very important to us chips away resulting in this slow degradation of soul we miss until we wake up in the extreme and hate ourselves for it.

I detest my bitterness, anger, and fears. I’ve morphed into someone I don’t like and a skin I’m not comfortable in most of the time. My judgment and self-preservation are a joke; I’m a duped fool to the core and bear little in the way of self esteem; and the only life this universe is going to grant me is wasting away. The humiliation is excruciating. The time that is life is evaporating while I feel paralyzed.

How can the lied to end up feeling responsible and guilty, like they’re the crazy one? And how can the liar who cares about them allow such torture? Would they also let you get hit by a train? And what is the difference except that in this case they’re driving (which compounds the charge and the damage)? Partners should have your back but how can that be when they are all you have to fear?

I miss myself. I remember being glad to open my eyes in the morning. I remember having a smile and gushing energy into every person whose path I crossed and thriving on the energy I got back; I prized connections. General happiness is so stimulating. Like spark plugs going off in my brain. I got so much accomplished. I was productive and forward thinking. I was in the flow and the universe was my advisor and playground.

But I bucked the system. I got in this situation and stayed, and stayed, and came back, and came back, and stayed, and came back. I was taught and believe that relationships are the most meaningful and important things in a human life. Self-deterioration aside, and regardless of gains made when apart, loving someone engenders so much guilt at the thought of abandoning them while they’re clearly struggling with issues, that I guess I put myself on a shelf until further notice – or never. Whichever comes first.

ISOLATION IS A CANCER

Dear 2.10,
The truth hurts and on the surface you gave me a boat load to sort out. I say on the surface because the fact is I’m well aware how poorly you think on your feet and your tendency to revert to mean spiritedness and juvenile processing; and as much as I couldn’t carry things around any more I’d have been better served by writing things down.

You say you have no conscience so you just do things and don’t feel anything at all.
You defended your subjective brand of lying when something’s “not important to you” regardless of knowing it’s a well discussed (over discussed!) issue that will hurt me and jeopardize our relationship.
Regarding the trust issues you’ve created in me, you told me I’m gonna have to figure it all out for myself.
Regarding your subjective interpretation of honesty, you told me it may not get any better than this.
Regarding us, you told me you don’t know what you want.

Far from the words of someone interested in building a future.

You also had the nerve to blame our fight in Melbourne entirely on me, completely forgetting the entire interaction started because I could no longer endure your abysmal negativity and moodiness and that you were ‘freaking out’ being in a city. Christ, I had to go get coffee in the mornings just to have someone smile at me! And you unloaded all sorts of unforgivable nastiness like you knew you should’ve never came, knew this would happen, and how you’d have had every last detail figured out before the trip without ever using the internet (which besides ignorant, is hysterical!). No, I was not level or unemotional; I was upset and ready to explode on top of having a really bad UTI that I saw a Dr. for the next day, please excuse my imperfection. But please also share some bloody responsibility instead of this ridiculous ‘no, you’re right it was all my fault’ woe-is-me shit.

I responded that after 5 f’ng years this conversation was insane (and redundant)!

And it is.

How clear this all is on paper without the good stuff interwoven; the humor, and kindnesses, and touch. I’m at a loss for how to reconcile it all. In the absence of a support system, friends, or the energy of a metropolitan area, I feel paralyzed. Isolation is a cancer.

LUCKY YOU

Dear 2.10,
How is it you never pay a price for the ‘us’ damaging decisions you make? How are you immune to the consequences? You just carry on as if you dropped no bomb, as if we’re right where we were before you did. As long as I don’t bring it up life’s peachy for you. You don’t have to get through your day nauseous. You don’t have to survive 13 rounds between your head and your heart. You don’t have to fear the free radicals coursing through your system wondering where they’ll settle next. You don’t have to wrestle your esteem out of the ditch. You get away with doing whatever the f** you feel like once again. This is dandy if you’re solo, but Dr. Jekyll says you’re not. You don’t even have the conversation you promised, or deliver the letter you’d supposedly started. You give me a card like plenty before and think that miraculously absolves the fundamental crevasse you’ve reinforced. Aside from ease and convenience for you, how can you just cruise along knowing you’ve left me carrying this around? How do you jeopardize ‘us’ so casually and act like we’re great, as if you can repeat this juvenile bullshit over and over, call it reasonable, and expect anyone to be unaffected? How does any of this strike you as acceptable? And how do you leave all the heavy lifting of addressing things to me banking that I won’t? How do you live with this? How do you do it?

How do I recognize this as wrong, painfully immature, and quite possibly passive-aggressive and not act? Why do I still feel deeply connected when you call or appear regardless of this health devouring damage? Where is my backbone? Am I simply the your very biggest enabler? What version of judgment is necessary here? And how do we weigh the black and the white when they’re not? If only things were as simple as third party assessments would make them.

Initiating Mo-blogability

'Mo'-bilizing another escape hatch, a pressure valve; relief is never further away than my phone.
Does anyone else feel like that?

MAYBE NEXT TIME

Dear 2.10,
How is anyone expected to relax with no avenue to truth? You’ve taken my very last avenue away and left me with nothing; you have no desire nor do you think highly enough of us to prize truth, and have no clue as to how deeply insulting (and damaging) that is. So everything thereafter becomes difficult. I mean why waste time chatting about superficial stuff as if everything’s peachy while it’s known no credible foundation exists beneath?

I haven’t laughed or even genuinely smiled since before the 5th of May. I miss laughing. I miss being happy. I miss feeling a smile come up from inside. I miss being excited to wake up in the morning. I finally had that for a couple months leading up to the 5th of May. Finally. 5yrs coming. It was fantastic. It was amazing. I felt my old genuine self coming back. The real me. The upbeat, giving, gushing, ‘anything’s possible’ me. I liked and appreciated you more every day. The clouds were drawing away and I actually glimpsed possibilities and looked forward to things – and then - you schooled me on my delusional state; delusions built on bullshit, subscribed to by a ridiculous fool, me. I am so fucking stupid and I am so fucking broken, like someone took a baseball bat to my insides (and that was before surgery).

What a coincidence right, that my insides imploded a week later? I told you I couldn’t believe you were making me carry everything around for another 4 or 5 days or however long until you’d have a conversation and that I didn’t know if I could do it – and as we found out, I couldn’t. My body broke. The poison that betrayal and humiliation send coursing through our systems hunting for a weak spot found my abdomen. I got lucky, it wasn’t cancer. Maybe it will be next time. Or maybe in the midst of the next confrontation you set me up for, the accompanying arrhythmias will spawn an actual heart attack, or maybe a stroke. Yeh, maybe next time; now there’s something to look forward to, and a heck of a way to live.

LOVE AS BUSINESS?

Dear 2.10,
It doesn’t matter how much I love you or am in love with you. I’ve retreated so far within myself I don’t know if I can come back. I read a quote yesterday that I’d never heard before: “What you don’t see with your eyes, don’t invent with your heart”. So I’m examining reality the way I do business; do the facts add up indicative of a future or do they not and it’s just my love for you that’s deluding my thoughts and my life.

Things that lend themselves toward a future: Our shared interests in books and writing and art; our love of hiking and the outdoors and animals; our energy levels and tactile relationship with the world; and the fact that we just plain like hanging out with each other (I also happen to be stupid crazy about your body and love looking at you, and I love your voice, and your hands, and many other things). The impossible to articulate grey areas of attraction/love are many, and are clearly the toughest when attempting reconciliation of checks and balances.

Beyond that, do we have a situation based on honesty and integrity? No.
Do we both make decisions with the interest of protecting and nurturing our relationship in mind? Clearly not.
Do we both prize ‘us’ beyond casually jeopardizing our relationship and the well being of the other individual involved? Clearly not.
Do we put our heads together to figure things out as if aiming for a shared path and destination? No.
Have we ever talked about doing so? No.
Do we each have the autonomy to do so? No.
Do we both face our individual situations head on and maturely take steps to resolve problems? No.
Do we recognize that a future is only possible if we do so? Apparently not.
Do we both acknowledge that love gives you the power to damage the other person beyond repair? Obviously not.
Do we both appreciate the level of damage inflicted by the humiliation of lying to someone who loves and trusts? No.
Do we both appreciate the compounding level of damage when humiliation is issued repeatedly over time? No.
Do we both understand that the damage destroys the receivers’ physical health as well as emotional health? Certainly doesn't seem like it.

So you’ve told and written and demonstrated for me that –
You “can’t” tell the truth (honesty),
You “can’t” do what you say (integrity), and
You “can’t” handle the “stuff” that is life without being stoned (maturity).
Doesn’t breathe much in the way of stability, reliability, security, maturity, or potential, does it.