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Saturday, November 24, 2012

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have not made a Christmas Wish List in years. I haven't celebrated Christmas in years. It isn't that I hate the holiday, I just hate the way that I feel around this time of year. I have had no reason to celebrate for a very long time and I have been alone for a very long time. It is easier to push it to the back of my mind and just treat it like another day, rather than admit that I am lonely. But this year, I have much to be thankful for and much to celebrate, still I find myself a bit melancholy still.
Wish one - a heavy bag and boxing gloves. I am disabled in just about every other way, but I can still use my upper body.
Wish two - tangible, physical affection from my partner. I miss it and crave it.
Wish three - Answers. For both myself and for my partner regarding our health. I pray for forward momentum and progress, instead of this infernal stagnation that we have been treading water in.
Wish four - I pray for fidelity, loyalty and honest love for all of those that do not have it. I see brothers mistreating their partners, being dishonest and being disloyal. It breaks my heart. I will abide by the rules and I will keep my mouth shut, but I will pray relentlessly for their hearts to be touched by the Lord and for them to become "real men" in the eyes of the maker.

I am not big on public opinion. I despise liars and cheats.

Lord forgive them, fore they know not what they do.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Silent Contemplation

The time of year for my annual withdrawal from sanity has begun. I don't know what it is about this time of year that makes me crazy, literally, but it seems to be happening more and more. Take today for instance, I have been battling the beast of depression all damn day, barely keeping it at bay. Is it sad that I have to make sure I leave the house before the really bad thoughts start?  Those dark, seductive "Let's put an end to the suffering" kind of thoughts. I have never wanted a violent end, but there is something so alluring about the sig saur .40 caliber sitting on the counter that keeps drawing my minds attention. I have to leave so I have an ounce of a chance at ignoring those thoughts. It really doesn't matter though, whether or not I am physically in the house, because my mind is there...seeing me picking up the pistol, caressing the smooth barrel like a new lover. Feeling the weight of the loaded magazine in my hand, the way the grip slides willing and comfortably into my waiting palm...
Yes, these thoughts have seduced me all day, even now, they are invading my minds space while I write this. I have tried every way I know to keep the wolf at bay and it has been relentless, not taking the bait and leaving me be.
As the day has worn on, I can feel my resolve strengthening, but it is not solidified yet. I had an invite to go meet him for a drink...oh a drink, what a lovely thought...though I know what happened the last time I was not "right" in the head and lost it in public...he did not receive it so well.

and so it goes, and so it goes...

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Happiness lost...

When did happiness get lost? Do you remember the exact moment that it slipped away? I can not recall when it went, but I know that it is gone. I am miserable and have no one but myself to blame. I have let the insecure, selfish actions of others dictate my existence. When did I become less of who I am and more of who I am not nor wish to ever be? I am not weak, I am not meager, I am not spiteful or mean, I am not jealous nor possessive...however neurotic I may be, lol. So how in the world do I get back to me and still live in this life that I have chosen? Stay tuned, maybe I will figure it out.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Absolutes and Ultimatums...

It has been a month since my last post. A month of ups and down and uncertainties, a month filled with fear and the unknown, and a month of relief. He went in for his first surgery on his neck and back. For the first time he was afraid of the outcome. As he put it, "I've been blown up, shot at and stared hell in the face, but nothing compares to this, not knowing how I'll come out on the other side or if I will at all." These were words he spoke to me as tears ran down both of our cheeks and we held each other, not wanting to speak of the possible outcome, but forced to acknowledge it anyway.
This man that I love, the one that I rarely see anymore, reached out and squeezed my hand as he was getting wheeled away to surgery. "See you soon", I whispered and kissed him goodbye, praying that this would not be the last time I saw him, that I would not be going back to our home alone.
Success!! The surgery went well and he was released later that day. The next week was filled with the usual, cranky and being a prick because he was in pain, but that I'm used to..so easy to take in stride. He stopped drinking because of the medication and was diligently trying to quit smoking, to the point that he no longer smokes inside, yay!!! So many small victories to celebrate :) and he could feel his arms and his hands again, something that he hasn't been able to do in 2 years. It was everything we had hoped for and more. He even noticed a change in the physical abilities of his body, that little twinkle returning to his eye and the flirtiness in his actions. Wow, is this really happening? Is it too good to be true? I don't want to get my hopes up too high, but it's almost hard not too.
Then the fear sets in again...we haven't had a physical relationship for a very long time, will this change our life, our connection? Will it make my fears about infidelity worse, because now I know he is physically capable of it? Too many questions and that little 'IF' is a damn foreboding word that can drive you to drink if you let it.
Then, without warning, he showed up...who you may ask? Why him, I tell you, the man that I love, he showed up out of no where. He was caring and compassionate, he was affectionate and fun to be around, he was home again, after having been gone for so long. I was so happy to have him back, especially since my disabilities have gone into overdrive and it is I that need the caregiver for a change. Things were absolutely perfect again for the last couple of weeks. I was so happy...
And then, the walls came crashing down yet again. I had been blinded by my happiness, even though the signs were there, I chose to ignore them and got hit square between the eyes...
The drinking had steadily progressed again, since he stopped taking the pain meds. It is in moderation, but is still increasing at a rate that is more a "need" than just a "man that tastes good, I think I'll  have another" type of thing. He is able to drive again, so has no regulation by me on his movements...so he went out, around town and did what he used to do, stopped by and had a couple beers to reconnect with everyone. I could tell when he got home, the words were already slurring. Yet, I didn't say anything. We sat on the deck and he had 2 more. Yep, "here we go again" I kept thinking to myself. He is repeating himself, retelling things over and over...yep, here we go. His loving caresses have turned into the grabby man again, he is texting and chatting it up again..I actually caught him doing it without even trying. Then I get the "I know the flirting bothers you, but you're the one I want, you're the one I come home to...You are my everything, you know that, don't you? I hope you know that." And the lies have started again. Sometimes I wish I didn't know as much as I do...the lies would be easier to swallow without such a bitter aftertaste.

He fixed dinner, kept visiting me in the office...kissing on my neck, playing with the dogs..He's hiding again, hiding in plain sight and feeling guilty because I caught him (though these are things that he will never admit too)...then I did it, I opened my mouth (because in the past month, I've been able to talk to him without fearing the blow-up) and told him jokingly, "Ya know, I think I liked it when you were drinking less." and that was it. That set the whole raging roller coaster into motion yet again. He blew up at me and stomped out of the room..saying "well pardon me for having a few beers and some milks, maybe if I crash into a damn building then everyone will be happy." "Just leave me alone, it's obvious that you have a problem with me." All this followed by the glares and the hateful tones. So I tried to explain it to him, that I wasn't chastising him, nor judging him. I was happy he wasn't drinking as much because that meant he wasn't in pain like he used to be. I know that he smokes more when he drinks and it was counterproductive to the progress he had made. These pleas got ignored and he fell asleep on the couch...Yep, here we go again.

As he went outside for his last cigarette, before ignoring me and going to bed, I approached the subject one last time. "Babe, your drinking used to be a barometer of how you were doing, how much pain you were in or how bad the memories / dreams / flashbacks were. I could gauge how you were doing that way, since you rarely talk to me about it when you are closed off and hurting. But since the surgery, you evened out. And yes, to tell the truth, I liked it when you drank less. To me, that meant you were in less pain, that you were suffering less. It meant you were happier than you've been in a long time and you were "here", not just physically, but all of you. I missed you terribly and you were finally here. I was so happy and the house was calm again. So yes, when I noticed the drinking increase, I knew it was slipping away. I hoped saying something would keep you here, but now I know I was wrong." And with that, I kissed him on the temple, told him I loved him and walked back inside.
He proceeded to go to bed without speaking to me, something he hasn't done in this past month. I walked in later and kissed his head, rubbed his side and told him "sleep well, I love you" and walked out of the room.

Then, in the silent darkness of the night, I stepped out on the back porch and lost it. I cried like I had just lost my best friend without warning. The sobs shook my body, feeling the pain of the loss down to my very core. I knew it was coming, I saw the signs, but I didn't acknowledge them...and this is what was left. As I bawled my eyes out to my mom. Everything was so perfect, we were so happy and just like that, it was gone again.

I miss him. I want him back. I want our life back....

I miss him....

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Delicious Decadence

I began writing about delicious decadence and all the joys of the last few days: the smooth creamy texture of the butter pecan ice cream; the sweet, crisp crunch of the maraschino cherries; and last night, the cool breeze across my naked skin, the soft texture of the sheep skin blanket creating a warm tomb of solidarity that was ensconced with vivid dreams of my deepest fears. While I spent several days in contented bliss, I read the words of a fellow "caretaker" and to my chagrin, all was lost in the dreams. Her words echoed my own pain and that of many others. My temporary reality was rocked again by the painful truth, the loneliness, the emptiness that we all feel. To be together, yet utterly alone. I allowed myself to slip into self-pity, feeling sorry for myself and the situation in which I find myself.
I am lonely. Too long has it been since I have felt the tender caress of my lover. To feel soft kisses, to hear I am beautiful. It has been too long since I have felt like a woman, since I have been made love to. I miss it. I miss the feeling of a tender touch, of a candlelit dance locked away in the security of our home, our private moments that are just for us. I miss him. My greatest fear  is that our time will be cut short or worse yet, he will be better physically and forget me, allowing the restless spirit to take over and run again.
Today, I felt his eyes on me and there was a genuine contentment in them. He was watching me as I worked in the treeline, sitting there, smiling. It is times like these that I lock onto and hold with a ferocity very few understand. These are the moments that keep me going when things get really bad.
So, I am contented once again, despite the pain of my fellow suffers. I refuse to be stuck in self pity. I understand pain, I understand grieving, I understand loneliness. I have lived a thousand lives alone and am ok by myself. I can separate myself from the situation and from him. I will survive, with or without him. But I will never stray, no matter how lonely it gets. Like the lone wolf, I mate for life and I will stand alone forever more.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

How much can I stand?

How much more am I willing to stand? How many more lies, deceptions and hidden secrets am I willing to accept as part of a condition? When does it become too much?

Love, real love, endures. It stands the test of time, human faults and everything in between. It is not jealous, it is not possessive. It is patient, it is kind, it is strong and unyielding.

I am learning that lesson, every single day, every moment. I am changing, I am going through a metamorphosis. I have never felt like an adult, always felt like a child trapped inside an aging body. Though my soul was much older than my physical being, my heart was innocent and child like. Perhaps because of the things I endured as a child, I was locked in that state of mind. But I find myself blossoming and growing, truly finding out what the meaning of love and commitment really are.

I have transcended the levels he is at, been there done that so to speak. It is not time to be demanding, it is not time to be possessive or jealous. It is within me to withstand the non-sensical motions of past traumas to lead to a better future.

So, to answer my own question...How much more am I willing to or able to stand?

As much as it takes.

Roller Coaster Ride...

This roller coaster ride of emotions is driving me crazy. I am angry tonight, for no particular reason at all. Perhaps it is because my hands hurt from using the lotion I do to give him his massages to help him sleep. Perhaps it is from the comment of "Well, my everything hurts all the time so I don't have any sympathy for you". Well excuse the hell out of me while I torture myself to help you find even one iota of comfort!

I am not all about the martyrdom here. I care deeply for this man, I hate to see him in pain, I choose to do what I can to make it better even if it is only temporary. But damn it, enough is frickin enough! I understand you are in pain, I get it, I live with my own injuries every single day. I fight against it to get out of bed some days. And I push it aside to take care of you. There are days when I can't and by some miracle, you aren't a huge prick and make me feel better. I love you dearly for that, because I empathize with what you have to deal with.

I don't know if the pressure, the pain, the uncertainty of it all has got you so wrapped up that you can't see past your own circumstances? If that is the case, I can understand that. I get the PTSD, I get it baby, I really do. More than you know. All the books I read, all the research that I do, it isn't so I can understand what you went through. There is no way in the world I could even come close to fathoming what you have experienced. I am just trying to understand the disorder, beyond my own experience.

Thank you for opening up to me, for baring your tormented soul to show me bits and pieces of what you lived through. Thank you for trusting me enough to lean on me. When you curled up next to me and fell asleep with your head on my shoulder, I felt you here again. You weren't gone in your mind, you were here. You let me be strong for you while you grieved. Much more so than last year. Time is a healer of all wounds, it is a builder of bridges, of trust and of love. I am not your architect, I am your engineer. You show me the path that will help you achieve what you need and I will do what I can to make it so.

The roller coaster is part of the ride, and for now, my little rant is over.