What Can Be Said?

Wednesday. Well, what to say? I had a panic attack for a few hours leading up to them arriving. Dinner almost didn't happen, but I am who I am. I pulled myself together enough to say "come anyway" because the food was almost ready. So fuck it.

Steve's girlfriend is a sweetheart, generous. I can't hate her anymore. She's too likable. Her and I have too much in common. She had been told what was going on and wanted to help out in any way she could. She is so innocent, and he really likes that about her. He wants to keep her that way. She's so Christian too. Like, my inner former Catholic kind of wants to give her a reality check because she's a little too Christian. Not saying "God" or "damn" out loud is...I grew up with Irish Catholics. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph" was a common phrase uttered in the household. "Lord have mercy" was another.

I was the super Catholic. In the choir. Went to church on saint and holy days. Saturday church with the choir, and Sunday church with the family. I believed in confession. When I started liking girls, I talked to my priest in open confession about it. The first time I cut, I did the same. "If today you hear his voice, harden not your heart" which is something I learned with the sacrament of first holy communion. We even had a project in Sunday school where we colored in heart shaped rocks to "cleanse our sins." Sin. That an 8 year old had. Haha

That I had. I have done things that I am not proud of since then. But at 8? At 14? Heh, that's when I left. Because I wasn't ashamed of liking women and men. I wasn't ashamed of my sexuality. No, if anyone had a debt to pay, it was a distant God who put me through hell again and again.

No. That system made no sense to me. It hasn't made any sense since. And that is entirely why Steve and I could never be together. Because he believes in it, with everything in him.

And when other Gods start saying "hello" over the years, when they keep watch, even when I'd rather be left alone...It's not even one pantheon either. They all show up when they want to, sounds like Gods.

But, none of them help. They never have. Not with the pain, the depression, the panic attacks, the PTSD, the disassociation. None of it.

The meds aren't helping. Therapy isn't helping. I've been all sorts of wrong since Wednesday. I lashed out at Steve on Friday. I was a total asshole. I did the thing I told him I never would: be vindictive. Be mean and hateful. But I didn't care. I wanted to hurt him because I wanted him to hate me. And I realized it worked.

I hated myself for it. So I wanted some space to regroup. To stop hurting him. But he didn't understand. We left things on a sour note. I was deep into the depression. And yesterday I cut, right along a vein on my wrist. I almost passed out from something I did. I wasn't from bleeding, just something. Maybe because I've never cut near a vein before.

Even though things were terrible, Frank was at work, and all I could think was to call Steve. I didn't expect him to pick up, and he almost didn't. But given things, he knew it must be important. We ended up talking for 2 and 1/2 hours. It helped, more than I could imagine. And we're good again. He was worried, for good reason. But the right people are going to be told about everything.

The depression hasn't been kind to me for the last few months. *sighs*

Complications

I don't think he reads here anymore, or even would think to, so I'm going to write what's been in my mind since I last saw Steve. Since I decided I had things to say again, things that mattered to my soul and itched to be free.

In some ways, I've been stifled knowing he'd be on here reading my words. That's no longer a problem.

I can finally say the way he ended things was one of the most heartbreaking things someone has ever done to me. It nearly killed me. It's what pushed me off the fragile edge into oblivion. I had arrangements made. I knew what day I was going to end things.

After everything and everyone who tried to break me, he managed to do it by accident. I couldn't let him "see" in that annoying way he "sees" me. If he thought, guessed for a brief moment, he would stop me.

The Ex moving two and a half hours away helped a lot. My therapist says that's when he saw an improvement. But that's not what rekindled the fire, no. I helped a friend get out of an abusive situation. I saw the fear firsthand. A look I know all too well. One I didn't just wear around The Ex. One I've wore most of my childhood. I know abuse when I see it.

They'd already broken up. She was packing up her things as quickly as she could with work. He was being an asshole about it and was trying to convince her to reconsider. So while he was off on a job over a long weekend, I got her out. I pushed my body and my mind to its limits, but we did it. I slide into a disassociative state about 5 minutes after everything was done. Not completely gone, but I lost the ability to speak for a while. I kept shaking.

I want to shake now. When she admitted to our friends, with my help, that her ex was abusive no one believed her. They still don't. They thought I was projecting my Ex onto her situation. Want me to live? Make me angry. Give me a reason to defy people actively. Give me something to prove wrong.

But nothing has been right these past few months. The lynch pin, my therapist calls her. The center around which all my abuse and trauma can be tied back to. One of my first abusers. Someone I used to call "mom" but isn't my biological mother. We talked in December. The nightmares started then. Restless nights. Meds no longer working. Weeks of unrelenting migraines.

And his girlfriend. Seeing her name show up on FB. We're not friends but she's tags him in things all the time. She's integrated in his life in a way I never was, maybe never could have been. And I hate her for it. I hate her. I have no reason to; she seems like a really nice person. They connect really well.

Yet, I hate her. The idea of being around her puts very bad thoughts in my head. Bad dreams. I say I want him only to be happy. Then why is there so much rage? It's not like she's someone bad for him. I'd understand that. But she seems great. A total sweetheart who's been through her own miseries in life. I should connect with her.

He says he's surprised that I'm not vindictive. I could be, and he has no idea of the levels I'd go to. I can be ruthless. But not to him, never to him. And she's now part of his life...my brain should transition to a protective state.

It's not though. I see competition. I see prey. I see something to eliminate.

If this is who the medications make me become in order to "help" me, I think I'll take my depression and anxiety and ptsd instead. Kthnx. Because that person sure as hell isn't me. 

No Good Options

Since last summer, Steve and I haven't been close. I saw him once in the fall; it may have even been September. I don't really remember anymore. The meds I'm taking make it harder to keep track of the days and months. Time eludes me. But he was over for dinner to meet Frank. Steve knows my housemate who's living with me. She has a job in the area for the year working for a library. It's to advance her career and it was an opportunity she couldn't pass down. I needed the company. One of Frank's friends who lives in town was also over for dinner that night, so it was an interesting evening.

Though the friend is now my friend as well. In the last year, I've lost a lot of friends who I used to hold dear. They chose to keep someone abusive around. I saw what he was doing to our friend. I helped get her out. And yet, they would rather believe I'm projecting my own past issues onto other people than believe that yet another person is an abusive asshole.

Yeah, my ex was a piece of shit. That's all I'm willing to say about that.

Last Monday Steve and I met for lunch. We wanted to bridge back together the pieces of our friendship. I was reserved, but damn if I don't still get butterflies every single time I see him. I shouldn't, especially now, but may the gods help me, I do.

Lunch went fine. He bought a house in the fall and asked if I wanted to see it. I had time so sure. It's a nice house; he can do a lot with it. We started talking and catching up. Four hours later...lots of crying...too many emotions.

There was a point. The attraction is still there as if June 8th, 2014 wasn't over a year and a half ago. It feels like a couple months. I fell right into subspace for him, something I haven't been able to touch since things ended between us.

But he just started seeing someone. They've liked each other for months now and just finally admitted it. He still sees us as having obstacles that will never be overcome, even though he's entirely wrong. He can have his opinion and I can have mine. The words "You are everything I've been looking for" still whisper in my mind. Words he said in awe.

Things have fallen out with Lisa. They just happened, in the same way we just happened into a relationship.

As for Frank, yes we've talked about the future. But that is something Steve never understood. I do that with everyone. I told him I did, but he didn't seem to believe me. I dislike unknowns. If things continue forward, I have a clear understanding of where Frank and I will be, where we stand, what we want for the future, etc.

But it's also been less than a year. And given everything I still feel for Steve, I'm conflicted. Steve says there will never be a future there. All he can offer is friendship. Is it right or fair to be with someone when my loyalty will always be with Steve? I love Frank...but I gave Steve everything. I bet everything on him.

And I would do anything to make him happy. I can't say that about anyone else. So I'm lost with no good options.