drive-by wtf-ing
July 28, 2008
Boyfriend and I attended a concert last night. Brad Paisley…my fourth, as a matter of fact, and he did not disappoint. Neither did Jewel or the two up-and-comers that came before. I got some good pictures, which I am too lazy to post at the moment. I’m too lazy to even hook my camera up to the computer to transfer the pictures to my database.
Hell, I’ve been too lazy (and too depressed) to blog much at all for the last few months. I try to laugh and smile and carry on with my friends, to hide how shitty I’ve been feeling, but it’s getting harder every day. My body is starting to protest.
I’m having doubts about my relationship. Not serious ones as of yet. I have a feeling that I’m just second-guessing myself…which I’ve done often enough to know I shouldn’t be hasty when it comes to any life-altering decisions I may have to make.
I love The Boyfriend, make no mistake of that. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give myself over to him…or anyone…completely. Can I really love him the way he deserves to be loved? He’s an amazing person. Sure, he’s got faults…no one’s perfect. But he treats me like I’m a fucking princess, and I’m not used to that.
I’m used to being used. And treated like I don’t really exist. How does one get past that? I know I deserve better, and I know Boyfriend gives me that…but it’s not an easy fix. How can you repair almost six years of damage in eight months? I don’t think you can…even if those eight months have turned out to be wonderful.
Besides, I feel like keeping in touch with D could be considered the equivalent of an emotional affair. Any energy that is directed toward him is focus taken away from my REAL relationship and the guy who really loves me.
Boyfriend has made me the center of his universe. I feel selfish…almost childish. I’ve never had to worry about anyone but myself, and now all of a sudden I have another person’s feelings to consider. I’ve always been able to do what I want when I want to do it (and *eh hem* WITH whomever I wanted). Those days are gone.
I don’t want to hurt this person I love just because I’ve got some serious baggage. His past girlfriends were unfaithful and conniving. I’m neither of those things. I want to make him happy and be honest and open. But honest and open has always gotten my feelings crushed. That’s a hard thing to forget. I know he would never hurt me on purpose…LOGICALLY, I know this. But doubt still lingers, and I can’t seem to shake it.
I feel like a real asshole…
It’s making me sick and depressed all over again. I keep thinking I should go see a doctor and get some medication. Or at the very least seek the advice of a counselor. I’ve been hearing all these ads on the radio about how depression is a real illness and can be fatal if left untreated. So what am I waiting for? I really don’t know.
I’m not sure I want to be at the mercy of medication. What if it leaves me unable to think, to create, and to see the world clearly? I want to be subjected to the truth of the world even if it hurts. I don’t want my thoughts censored or held back by anything. I don’t want to forget what I’ve learned. I don’t want my will to leave me. I want to be happy, sure…but I don’t want to forget what it feels like to think and to be a part of the world. I don’t want to lose my connection to my emotions and my truth.
What would it feel like to go for days, weeks, months, or even years without having to fight the urge to throw myself into traffic. And, no, sadly I am not exaggerating or trying to be funny. Sometimes I actually contemplate what it would feel like to bleed to death slowly or to suffocate with a pillow over my face or with my head wrapped in plastic. I wonder what it’s like to drown, to feel your lungs fill up with water…or to burn and feel the skin shrivel and melt away. What’s it like to be crushed or to have a bullet travel through your head and into your brain?
I know how this all sounds. And, no, I’m not planning to kill myself…or at least, not anytime soon. I just think about these things because I have that option, like having a fire extinguisher encased in a box that reads IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS.
Sometimes I even enjoy the time I spend in my little fucked up world, no matter how terrible these things may seem to others.
I’m not afraid of death. I know I’ve got somewhere to go after this life is over with. But I also know that I’m not quite ready to go there yet. There are still things I need to try.
Like skydiving…or milking a poisonous snake. Or even not fucking up a perfect relationship with a really awesome guy because I am a pussy who cannot handle being treated like a human being instead of a blowup doll.
