Tenuous Stability

It was one of those rare days where the hypomania kicked in and wow, I got some stuff done. Stuff I’ve been saying I’d do for a year now. Not everything is done, because while I flew high for several hours…
Around 4 p.m. the slide began…No trigger.
Anxiety. Lowering mood. Kinda like falling down a well in slow motion.
I don’t want to just crash, not when I was so focused and getting things done.

Unfortunately, cyclothymia doesn’t give a damn.

My brain has latched onto its OCD thing. Something has wounded me deeply and while I want to forgive…Bottom line is, I can’t forget. It’s salt in a wound and no one who cared about you would do that. And certainly not repeatedly. It’s the end of the road for me with this relationship beyond what is necessary for survival.

Sick of my vulnerabilities being exploited. Sick of others having selective memories when it comes to facing anything that might shatter their denial and make them see themselves for who they are.

I’ve had several epiphanies about myself of late.
I am to blame for much of my past emotional trauma.
Not because I am absolving certain assholes of responsibility for their contributions.
Just because I am recognizing patterns in my own behavior.
I realize my first marriage failed because I never should have been with him to begin with. I had feelings for him, but they were more platonic than anything. On the other hand, he truly worshiped me. But we weren’t on the same intellectual plane and I always felt so…starved.
I don’t regret ending the marriage. He deserves better than someone clinging simply because it meets their insecure needs yet don’t reciprocate.

Seeing yourself in a clear light is tough. It is also empowering. You feel less like a victim and more like someone who has emotional baggage and keeps making poor choices that result in them being hurt further.
Maybe my first husband loved me too much and my own self loathing wouldn’t let me accept it. He was the ONLY guy who ever dealt with my ups and downs and screaming and bawling without discarding me like some pain in the ass.
I wonder if deep down it was too much for me to handle because I didn’t (and don’t) think I deserve to be loved that unconditionally.
I want to be.
Deep down, I question whether I deserve it.
So while I don’t purposely seek out intellectuals who are emotionally void…I think when I find them, I latch on and every time I get hurt, I think I deserve it. My karma.
I hate it. God, I fucking hate it.
I do deserve better.
And this is not exclusive to romantic stuff, it’s friendships, too.
But I can only declare “I deserve better” if I disengage from the toxic relationship.
If I remain entangled…my self loathing thrums beneath the surface and inevitably those around me bring it boiling over the surface. It’s like a form of self torture.

Bitter fuckin’ pill to swallow.; Especially now that my mood has slid into the abyss and I know soon, the self loathing will come on full force.

It was nice to be up and functioning so highly for awhile. I wasn’t bouncing off the walls with joy but I was…managing.
At this moment, the bed is calling my name, telling me it’s ok to fetalize under a warm blankie and shut out reality in favor of sleep.
Even if my sleep is plagued with bizarre dreams and never for more than a couple of hours at a time courtesy of my child.

Time to start a new week.
What fresh hell will this one bring.
And what mind frame will I be in and will I be tough enough to cope or will the emotional shrapnel go flying again?



2 Responses to “Tenuous Stability”

  1. Sorry things are rough

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