Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Tornado In my Head

I don’t know where to begin. So many things inside of my head, so many emotions spinning around and so much left unsaid. How do you explain your feelings when you can’t understand them yourself? I feel lost. I feel scared, angry, happy, sad and hurt all at once. I feel utterly alone because I cannot share these feelings. I cannot deal with these feelings so I bottle them all up and walk away from them. I pretend that they don’t exist and I get through the day. Day after day I become more alone and more scared and I cannot find my true self. I cannot find my happiness, I cannot find me and I am lost.
I cannot say I have a horrible life. I have a house, I have a car, 2 kids, 2 dogs, a man, a fish, a frog. I have people who love me, I have a family. My life isn’t bad from the outside looking in. I do have a lot to be thankful for and I know this. And I know that things could be so much worse and I should stop my pity party and move on. If only it were that simple. If only I could I could find the OFF button for the self destruct machine that lives in my head.
I don’t feel sexy, I don’t feel pretty, I don’t feel wanted. What I feel is that I am trapped in this body that isn’t mine and I cannot escape from it. I feel needy and clingy. I feel like I need his attention and I am not getting it. He would rather watch TV or play video games than talk to me and the only time I can get his attention is when we are having sex and I use that as much as I can. And then it is over and he goes to sleep and I lay there wishing he would hold me. Wishing he would want me the way that I want him. Wishing he needed me, wishing we were equals. I have spent so much time alone in this house that it is become both my prison and my fortress.
I am not the person I used to be. Because of this stupid disease I have lost everything that made me me and I have been forced to start over, but each day I feel I have to start over again because each day brings new challenges and new symptoms. I am trying to accept this disease but I cannot accept the unknown. I can accept what is here today but I know that it will change in the blink of an eye and I will be forced to accept what happens tomorrow.
There are things that do not change. The numbness, the pain, and the emotional whirlwind that is so hard to stop that I feel like I am going insane. And yet I fight this disease. I fight with all that I have because I want to be there for my family. I want to see tomorrow even though I already know tomorrow is going to be worse than today.
This disease is trying to kill me. It is killing me. And I am going through the testing and the poking and prodding, the needles and the drugs, and for what? Every month I have to get an infusion that could kill me and it could save me. I would not invest money in the drug company’s stock, yet I have to rely on them to save my life. And I deal with the emotional turmoil of that every month, by myself, alone. I feel like I am fighting for a slower and more painful death. I do this because I have a family that needs me, I have two children who need a mother. I have a man who needs… well, who knows what he needs.
He doesn’t talk to me. He hides things from me. I have to snoop on him to know what the hell is going on with him and when I do I find out he is talking to the one person who has ever caused a problem in our relationship. A person he has sworn to me he will not talk to anymore. I see that he is giving his phone number out to another ex girlfriend. I see him deleting pictures off of his phone that he took at work, pictures he never sent me, and I wonder who he took them for. If he talked to me, if he told me what was going on I wouldn’t be so hurt and I wouldn’t feel the need to spy on him. But I feel like he is constantly hiding things from me, and I wonder if he is faithful, I wonder if our whole relationship is a lie. I wonder why he doesn’t care that it hurts me so much. My friends send me links to websites like online fuck buddy and adult friend finder and he is on there, and I am supposed to trust he would never lie to me or hurt me, I am supposed to trust that he is being open and honest with me. He works so hard to take care of us and our family and I know a part of him resents me for it. A part of him hates me because he is here and his daughter is in Kentucky. A part of him hates me because he has to work so damn hard just to provide for us. And I don’t blame him. Maybe that’s why when he come home at night I get one or two sentences before he shuts me out and turns on the TV.
I know that he loves me. I don’t question that. But I do sometimes question if he stays out of a sense of obligation or if he stays because he actually wants to be here. And that is a scary place to be. Maybe he shuts me out because he is scared and he doesn’t want me to see that side of him. Maybe he shuts me out because he is just going through the motions of life and he doesn’t want to feel. Maybe he puts his emotions in a box and walks away too. I don’t know. I really don’t know anything anymore. I just wish he would talk to me. I wish I knew how he was coping with all of this. I wish that we could have an actual conversation like we used to do back in the days of yore when we were open with one another. We have both hurt each other with stupid mistakes and I don’t know what we need to do to gain each others trust again. I find myself not trusting him, and its not his fault really. I have been hurt so much in the past by stupid men and I find myself feeling that way again. Like something isn’t right, like he is hiding things from me. I hate the way that makes me feel. It makes me feel small and petty, it makes me feel like I have to find whatever it is and I don’t really know that I even WANT to know what is going on when he is not here. Maybe I am making something out of nothing because I am insecure and I feel like I have lost everything and I am waiting to see if I lose him too. A part of me feels like I already have. And I cannot talk to him about it without it being a huge fight. I just don’t have the energy for any more fighting right now.
I have two kids that are wonderful, one is mine and the other was the greatest thing that Alex ever gave me. I never thought I would fall for his daughter and she would have such an impact on my life. But it kills me when she comes to visit and I have to give her back. Especially knowing she doesn’t want to go back. She wants to stay here with us. She has never really had a mother and I am closest thing she has to that. This does put a lot of pressure on me, to fill shoes that have been empty for so long. And I love her. More than words can describe. I am sometimes saddened that I have become her confidant as she tells me things that I do not know how to deal with. My heart breaks when she is hurting, which is happening a lot now a days and I am the only one who knows. She doesn’t see her father the way I do. She sees a man who does not stand up for her, who does not fight for her and she feels unwanted by him. I have no idea how to comfort her when her heart aches because she wants to be here and she has to go. I don’t know how to get her to see the man that I see. Yes, he has his faults but he is here anytime that you need him. He works everyday to provide for us, he goes to school, he takes care of us, and she doesn’t see that because she is not here and that is a decision that he and his father made. It kills me when she is not here. If feels like a part of the puzzle, a part of the family is missing and it is not the same. When I put her on that plane it felt like someone had ripped the heart right out of my chest. It hurt to the point of physical pain. I do realize that a part of me wants her here for selfish reasons, because I love her and I want her close. I want to do what is best for her.
Yes, I do think his parents are financially in a better place than us and they can afford to give her opportunities we cannot. But she has been forced to be an outsider, to be different because she lives with her grandparents and not her mom and dad. She wants a mom and dad, she wants a normal family. I want to give her that, but it is not my choice. I don’t know what hold Alex’s father has on him, but I know that his father has a way of making him feel like nothing, and cutting him to the core and he cannot stand up to him. I don’t understand their relationship and I probably never will. It is very different from my relationship with my mother.
My mother: well, what to say about her? She is there when you need her, she is there when you don’t and she is there when you don’t want her. She is dependant on me because I am the only constant in her life. I love my mom, but I find myself comforting her because I am in pain. I comfort her because I have a disease. I had to comfort her when I found out it was primary progressive. I am her kid, yet I feel like her shrink most days, sometimes I feel like her parent. But she is my mom and I love her. She is crazy. We all know this. Our whole damn family is crazy. If I can say nothing else for my mom, she is there for me when I need her. I don’t tell her a lot of things. I hide a lot of things from her, and I feel guilty for that, but at the same time, I know it is for the best.
I wrote about my father the other day. It was liberating to finally let that out. But it brought back a lot of painful memories and wounds that never healed. It brought back a lot of feelings about my sister that I would rather not have. But it had to come out. I have been living with this pain and this shame for far too long. And now that it is out, I don’t know how to turn off the emotions from it. And I cannot talk to anyone about it, except my shrink who only knows part of the story. I opened a closet of ghosts and skeletons and I cannot figure out how to shut it.
My mind shut out a lot of things that happened with my father, and I know it is for the best. But there is that side of me that feels like I need to know the truth before I can move on and put that behind me. I will never get over what he did and I will never get over the betrayal I felt from my sister. I know that he is dying and I know that until he is dead I will never heal from this. Yet, I somehow feel guilty to wish death upon him, to wish death upon anyone. That is simply not me.
Some days it feels like my entire life has become one big fight. A fight to live a fight to survive, a fight for my relationship, a fight for my kids, just one big fight. Days like today that fight becomes too much. I lose the energy, I lose the will to fight. I pretend the battle isn’t there. I focus on mundane tasks like cleaning or crocheting and I take my mind to another place, another time. I run away from the fight because it scares the hell out of me.
I have an average of 15 doctors appointments/infusions/mri’s/lab tests each month. I see my friends… about once every other month. They all have their own lives and they are all so far away. I miss them. I miss date night with Curtis. I miss Funny Bone Wednesdays with Bryan and Jen. I miss shooting pool with Nichole, I miss just hanging out. I would gladly trade all of that for my family. I live for Sunday nights when we all get to sit down for dinner together. Do you know how pathetic that is?
I need to find something for me, something that gets me out of this house, some place where I am actually needed. That is what I miss about working. I miss having people depend on me to get things done. I miss the chaos, I miss the responsibility. I have tried to make a business of my own, and I have failed miserably at it and it is hard. I gave it all that I had and it wasn’t good enough and that is how I feel about my life right now. I don’t know how to describe it, and maybe it will get better if I ever get approved for this stupid disability thing and I can have some money of my own and I can start doing things. Right now I think the finances are killing me. I have enough money to put gas in the car, buy cigarettes, and get groceries. That is it. There is nothing left after that. I don’t have the money or the gas to go do things, and it isn’t right to ask Alex for money. I hate asking him for money. I hate that I can’t help with the bills. I hate that he works so much and never gets time off. I hate that I am stuck in this place that I can’t get out of. I hate that my emotions are haywire and I hate that I only get one hour a week with my shrink.