(no subject)
Nov. 3rd, 2014 03:20 pmDay one, again.
I think that my strength and my weakness are pretty much the same at the moment. I'm surviving this because I'm always thinking about it, always looking for new angles, always trying to find something that makes sense, someplace to stand, some question to ask, some way I can comfort myself in the places where he once did, some way to cope with the new parameters of this relationship, things he has no interest in giving me if I can't explain why I think I want them.
But this is also destroying me because I think about it all the time. I try to figure out what I did wrong, what I need to do to be kept, to be loved, to be safe. I try to figure out what I've lost, what I'm losing, how much I can give up and still stay me, how to keep showing up. I worry about him breaking faith again all the time, every thing he says has fourteen different interpretations, and at least ten of them don't bode well for me.
And he says I don't need to be smaller, that he's not taking anything away from me, and in this particular case, we don't speak each other's language and I know I love him and I believe he loves me, and my will is strong and I am a thing of much fierceness. And maybe I can carve out something that works. But right now, I just keep repeating the first line of the aeneid every time my brain tries to start thinking about what progress is going to be undone, and it's getting pretty shouty in here.
Not even I get to break me. Orthopaedics shares a hall with the location I used to have my mammos done, so good memories etc, and I survived that. So while I'm still hoping for a happy healthy outcome, no matter what, I'm going to survive this.
(I really thought this was going to be a more positive entry. My good cheer might be more than a little fragile, but I thought I was keeping a convincing face on it. I'm tired of feeling good when he's around and worthless (to him at least) when he's not and I'm resolving to try to be done with it.)
Not even I get to break me.
I think that my strength and my weakness are pretty much the same at the moment. I'm surviving this because I'm always thinking about it, always looking for new angles, always trying to find something that makes sense, someplace to stand, some question to ask, some way I can comfort myself in the places where he once did, some way to cope with the new parameters of this relationship, things he has no interest in giving me if I can't explain why I think I want them.
But this is also destroying me because I think about it all the time. I try to figure out what I did wrong, what I need to do to be kept, to be loved, to be safe. I try to figure out what I've lost, what I'm losing, how much I can give up and still stay me, how to keep showing up. I worry about him breaking faith again all the time, every thing he says has fourteen different interpretations, and at least ten of them don't bode well for me.
And he says I don't need to be smaller, that he's not taking anything away from me, and in this particular case, we don't speak each other's language and I know I love him and I believe he loves me, and my will is strong and I am a thing of much fierceness. And maybe I can carve out something that works. But right now, I just keep repeating the first line of the aeneid every time my brain tries to start thinking about what progress is going to be undone, and it's getting pretty shouty in here.
ARMA VIRUM CANO TROIAE QUI PRIMUS AB ORIS. ARMAVIRUMQUECANOTROIAEQUIPRIMUSABORIS.
These endless weeks have taken a toll on everything around me, my friendships, my house, my body, my work. So the other mantra is "I refuse to live a life of squalor". So far, it's gotten me to do the dishes two more times than I would have, put the laundry away sooner and actually cook a forreal dinner. It also accompanied me on all of my walk to the cambridge hospital from central square, where they gave my foot a clean bill of health.Not even I get to break me. Orthopaedics shares a hall with the location I used to have my mammos done, so good memories etc, and I survived that. So while I'm still hoping for a happy healthy outcome, no matter what, I'm going to survive this.
(I really thought this was going to be a more positive entry. My good cheer might be more than a little fragile, but I thought I was keeping a convincing face on it. I'm tired of feeling good when he's around and worthless (to him at least) when he's not and I'm resolving to try to be done with it.)
Not even I get to break me.