We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Wednesday, 8 June 2011

Then I Exhaled



When I was writing yesterday's post about monkeydickfuckers, Jigger walked in and I stopped at the spot where the post ended which is why it ended so abruptly. I had asked him to bring some juice home with him because I had a horrible migraine, and he did, but as he handed it to me he made some remark that just broke me. Honestly, I have no idea what he said all I know is that it caused me to fly into a blind RAGE. I unleashed upon him all of the shit that I have been keeping inside of me. I was CRUEL. I knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it so that it would inflict as much pain and hurt as possible. At first he tried to put up a fight but really he was way out of his league. While we have had screaming matches in the past, I don't usually go full force, but this time was different. He stood no chance. The more I screamed the less he did. Until finally at some point there was only silence, and we simply stared at each other.

But I refused to blink first. I stared him down. Stone cold death stare. I did not cry. I did not show emotion. I am good at it. My mother trained me well. All those times of being beaten with belts and switches. "If you cry and apologize, I will stop she would say. Except I hadn't done anything wrong. At least not enough to deserve the beating I was getting and fuck her if I cried or apologized so she beat me. Until blood ran down my legs and I stared. Until the switch or belt broke and I simply stared. So really Jigger had no chance and I broke him. 

I hurt him deeply with my words, but I was also hurting. To be fair to him, he is as much a product of his environment as I am. I react the way I do partly because of bipolar and partly because of the abuse I have lived through. He is no different. He wasn't abused in the same sense as me, but he wasn't loved either. He is the "black sheep" in his family which is ironic considering all he does for them, but simply because he chose to live his life slightly differently than their traditional way he is the outcast. They talk so badly about him. So it's hard for him to accept that I truly am with him because I love him and want to be with him. We both have scars that are healing. We both have issues that we each are dealing with. We come from very different worlds so sometimes he doesn't understand my language and I don't understand his, but we have reached a point where we both realize and accept we have done wrong to the other one. 

After he broke down last night, we talked. I mean really talked for several hours. He finally told me all of the things he had been told. He doesn't really believe it, but he says that sometimes when I do or say something it makes him think that maybe it might be true, and anyone who has bipolar and/or BPD knows how easily it is to make yourself believe the "worst". So we both agreed to be more open and talk to each other more honestly. Even if it is hard. Even if it is something we don't want to talk about because if we don't then we are going to tear each other apart. 

In some ways I am glad he is going on this trip in a couple weeks. I desperately need some space and living in a house full of people it is very difficult to find that space. I have always found comfort and calm in the water. Before whenever I was upset or anxious, I would go to the river and just sit and stare at it. Watching it always brought me a sense of calm and peace and now I don't have that. I feel like every nerve ending in my body is exposed and my flesh is burned raw. Every touch is painful and I just need some space. This time apart will give me that space I am so desperately in need of. Then maybe I will be able to breathe. I'm sorry for leaving that post the way I did yesterday, but it was important for me. I needed that physical reminder of where we had been and where we are going.


my spot

So for now I am just going to exhale.

4 comments:

Haven said...

Believing the worst is the easiest thing in the world to do. Once it starts, it doesn’t just not stop, but it runs and runs wild. Eating away at you from the inside out.

Communication is SO important. I’m so glad that you can resolve to be more open and communicative with each other.

Despite and because of, everything you’ve been through, you are a very strong woman. You’ll work through this. I very much believe it.

Aimee said...

Bravo. So remarkably intuitive. I only wish I had known this much about myself that early in my marriage.

Maasiyat said...

Haven, thank you so much for your support. I am sorry I haven't commented much lately on your blog, but I have read every single post.

Aimee, don't forget this is my second time around that makes it very different.

lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog said...

Yep, the second around makes you an expert. Yes I'm being sarcastic.

The second time around makes me wiser.

It always makes you more in tune with your feelins and your awareness.

I hope you two get to where you need. If not, I hope you stay on the positive path for yourself anf your mental health.

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