I’ve been so emotional, psssh. Like a crazy thing really. While I’m working I can just shut it off and push it away. I can detach really from what I feel and think. Just let my hands do their work. As the holidays come round I find myself even more needy than I am during the year. I find myself reaching out, even to people who have in essence replaced me on their lives.
Over the last two weeks I’ve connected with someone who … well has paid me loads of attention and it’s felt so so good. I’m struggling with a few thing, but the conversation and the fantasies we’ve shared are motivating. (To say the absolute least) It reminds me of how much I love true submission. Truly letting myself go. Allowing myself the freedom to just be and let happen.
The longevity of this relationship is murky, because of the reservations I have. I almost feel judgemental that I’m having them. I work so hard at my job, take awful good care of my health, hygiene is SO important to me. Things like smell will totally ruin a moment for me. My nose is awfully sensitive. So when I run into someone who doesn’t share those same views, it will always be difficult for me to commit.
It makes me wonder if I’ve been single because my standards are to high. But if I can’t get around the problems what’s the point right? It’s an internal struggle, being moved by someone who can utilize my submission properly. But not finding the simplest things about the attractive.
I don’t know how to feel about this.
We grow up learning that if you treat people kindly, they will do the same for you. If you love them, they should in fact love you. If you are good and kind and sweet, that is exactly how people will treat you.
But it’s not, is it? We are selfish creatures. We think of gratification first. We push aside the ones who have invested in us for the next best thing.
I’ve been a pill, I can imagine, since January. I’m so stuck between wanting to BE and wanting to just exist. I keep trying to make myself better. I try so hard to be good enough for anyone to notice.
As usual this is just some crazy post.
Like I’ve been cemented into this place. It feels as if I’ll be here forever. Wanting something I’ll never have and not appreciating something I don’t find vaulable.
I feel like I should work at a DMV, let the problems in my life be people who all have issues.
After three and a half hours of being in the hospital today I’ve found out that the lump in my breast is a calcified bruise. I have a handful of cysts here and there, but no cancer. I’ll go back in 6 months to check it again.
I get home, after a celebratory dinner with my sister, to a 3 page long text about some new bullshit.
I hate relationships.
I hate people hurting my feelings.
I hate feeling like I owe someone.
I hate developing soft spots for people.
I fucking hate all of this.
Today we worked up the guest list for my sisters wedding. 185 people.
There are only two people on that entire list who don’t have a plus one.
Me and the weird uncle that’s lived alone in the woods for 45 years. Literally every other invitation will say :and family: please RSVP with your number of guests. Plus one is a daunting thing for a single person. Especially to a wedding. Doubly to your younger sisters wedding.
I’ll be 30 when she says “I do”. 30 and potentially in the middle of cancer treatment while building a business from my bed. 30 and single. 30 and watching my baby sister begin a whole new life without me.
Aside from that, I had to drive right by my ex mother in laws house to get to the venue. I hadn’t been stuck behind a tractor in 4 years. So I’m going 15 miles an hour and look over to my left. There it is, 7 years of memories to kick me in the ass. Right in the fat ass.
Plus side today? Having my nephew see me from across the room and run towards me as fast as his little legs can carry him. “Nannnnyyyy. Oh Nanny.” What an incredible beacon he can be.
I miss the smell of you
On my skin
In my space
The rumble of your voice
Vibrating the walls
Of my home
I miss longing for you
Once you’ve gone
For our next rendezvous
I miss feeling like I’m special to you.
Have I ever told you exactly how comfortable my bed is? Because I have two of them that are just bloody amazing. I want to be in one of them right at this very moment. But, I cannot. Because I also need to leave in 53 minutes.
Last night was very hard for me. I cried so much I woke up with my face still swollen this morning. I keep getting these waves of grief. Waves and waves of them. But I should also tell you that I’ve made some updates to “The list”. Numbers: 11, 21, 30, and 31. You can find the most recent version here. I’ve also made a deal with myself to start creating again. It’s high time I spend some me time doing something I love. So number 33 is my next goal. I’ll share the preparation of that one with you.
I hope you are well. Thank you for reading if you do. Much love.
I’ve been trying to pinpoint, for the purposes of the post, when my parents hit the horrific wasteland their finances had turned into. When the holidays got a little less sparkly. When it was just mom and I closing out every year under blankets on the couch or the front porch. I can still hear her small voice in my ears, feel her even smaller hand in mine. “Next year will be our year baby girl. It has to be.” *side note: I can’t tell you how slicing the pain is. How it feels like an actual piece of my body is gone when I remember the loss of her.*
Well mom, this year was not our year. Losing you in January, my diagnosis a few months later, and then now. Now I’ve found a lump in my breast. The same side as you as a matter of fact. I had an exam Wednesday and am scheduled for a biopsy in three days. I see these medical bills piling up, because hell if I have insurance. And I’m terrified. I’m so scared. Scared of this actually being cancer and then what. What if I need a mastectomy. How can I afford to be rebuilt? I think back to the literal open wound you carried on your chest for 12 years. The death of your intimacy with your husband. The lymphedema that developed. The eventual need to replace all of your teeth. Then of course the recurrence. The one that took you away. The one that left me, at 28, an orphan. Abandoned by every bit of family I ever hoped to have. The fact that there isn’t one person I could pick up the phone and call right now. Because the friends I have are tired of being a part of this constant tragedy of my life. I am tired of feeling guilty for needing someone to talk to. I feel like I’ve failed everywhere. I feel so awfully alone. Because no one knows me. Not like you did and there is no one here now that wants too.
Universe help them if they did. Because who would really want the disaster that I am.
I am so tired.