The Life You Save May Be Your Own

DID, knitting, sci-fi, and strong opinions

Pretty sure we found Nemo February 10, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 8:21 pm
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I am sick. I get cranky and whiny when I’m sick, so I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.

But it really sucks when you wake up sick and there’s two feet of snow on the ground.


But I really needed cough drops and soup, so I ventured outside.


That’s the sidewalk outside my apartment. More than knee-deep.

Half the mailboxes are buried.

There’s usually a sidewalk there.

Luckily, some kind stranger saw me struggling through all that snow and gave me a ride to and from the grocery store. I like nice people!

Yes, that is a snow bank that’s at least two feet taller than me, and I’m 5’4″. But my hat is pretty badass.

Gratuitous picture of me.

But I now have soup and cough drops and NyQuil. But my throat still huuuuuurts. Wahhhh.


Things February 7, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 9:45 pm
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–In a weird twist of fate, Bob emailed me while I was writing that last post. We’re talking again. I told him I’d be willing to do couples counseling. I’m not sure yet where the relationship is going.

–I’m near the top of the wait list at Sheppard Pratt. They estimate a week or two before they’ll have a spot for me. I’m desperately trying to find someone to take care if Winston while I’m gone.

–I got majorly stressed out at therapy this morning. Annie does sand tray therapy, which is one of the types of therapy I’ve never done. Expressive therapies stress me out because I feel like I’m being watched and judged, and the therapist’s interpretation of what I make might be full of incorrect assumptions about me. I’d rather just talk. Annie wanted me to play with the sand tray, and I couldn’t do it. I was tense, my heart was pounding, and it just made it worse because I was sure she was going to be pissed off if I didn’t do it, even though they never say so. I felt simultaneously like myself and a very frightened child. I don’t like when those parts of me get brought forward.


What right February 6, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 4:37 pm
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I keep thinking about Bob (my ex-boyfriend/best friend), and then I can’t sleep at night. When I finally do get to sleep, I dream about him. Not sad dreams–just normal ones where we’re together and happy again. I almost think sad dreams would be better.

I never thought I’d be one of those girls who pines away over some guy. I thought my asexuality made me immune to that. If I’m being honest, I always used to look down on people like that. “Just let that person go,” I thought. “It’s not that hard.” I only thought it wasn’t hard because I’d never let myself love anyone and I’d never let anyone love me. Before Bob, I had never really missed anyone, not even the people who had been my closest friends. I thought I had formed attachments to people, before Bob, but now I’m not sure I ever did. It’s always been so easy to let go.

I keep thinking I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve agreed to couples therapy. I should’ve found an individual therapist who could help me undo my asexuality–maybe he was right and the asexuality is just because I was abused. And even if I couldn’t undo the asexuality, I could’ve learned to tolerate sex with Bob. If I could tolerate sex with my father, surely I could tolerate sex with Bob. I could’ve married him and had kids. I wouldn’t be a perfect mother, but I could probably do okay.

I always scorned women who tried to change for their partners. Still do–myself most of all. But surely we all change for each other. Why did changing for a capital-R Relationship feel so threatening? Why did I fear losing myself so much that I clung to a rigidly-constructed, unyielding self?

Because my father decimated me, of course. Always that.

I want to beg Bob to take me back, tell him I’ll do whatever he needs, be whoever he needs. But what if what he needs is my absence? I’m assuming that’s his need because I haven’t heard from him in months. I emailed him to ask if he was avoiding people in general or me in particular. It took me weeks to send because I wasn’t sure how I’d survive if his answer was “You in particular.” Several days later, he replied to say he wasn’t ignoring me, he just wanted to make sure he got the words right. That was weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. I imagine him surrounded by friends, maybe even a new girlfriend, never thinking of me. That’s probably not the reality, but I have no way of knowing. In part, I want it to be true. I want him to be happy and loved. If I’m too broken to give him the life he wants, then I hope with all my heart that someone else does. God knows he deserves it. He’s so kind and loving and good, and he deserves everything good in life.

But I want so badly to be able to be that person for him. And I want to be happy and loved too. I want him to love me. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and I’ve never wanted that with anyone else.

But what right do I have? I dumped him and then didn’t talk to him for months. I told myself I ended it so he’d be free to find someone who could give him sex and a family. That was true…but only part of the truth. The rest of the truth is I was scared and hidden. I hid from telling him how I felt about being touched, I hid from telling him he reminded me of my father (physically, not behaviorally), I hid from telling him how hard the relationship was. I was too scared to be open and too scared to change, so I ran way. I went even more silent. I hurt him. So what right do I have to ask him not to be silent? What right do I have to ask him to let me back into his life or his heart? What right do I have to tell him I still love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life?



Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 12:02 am

I’m very much on edge right now.

Actually, I’m angry. I want to hurt someone, but I’m the only one here.

Had a terrible therapy session. I don’t remember exactly what happened, even though I remember thinking I was present. She wanted something from me, some answer, but she wouldn’t tell me what she wanted and insisted she wasn’t looking for anything specific. Not sure what the question was. And I remember feeling like I was being treated like an idiot child. I hated her so much.

She asked me what I wanted to say, and I said I didn’t know. I didn’t want to SAY anything. I wanted to throw things at her, wreck her perfect office and her perfect life, and run away.

I don’t even know why I was so angry. I can’t remember. It’s like a dream, dissipating when you wake up. But the rage, the rage sticks with me.

And then, afterward, my ride didn’t show up. It was freezing cold, my back hurt, and it was a two mile walk to the bus stop. No one on my team picked up their phones until after I was supposed to be back in Northampton for the team meeting. I waited in a gas station convenience store for someone to come get me. I wanted to scream at them, but I couldn’t. I was nice. “It happens,” I said. I wanted to say it shouldn’t happen. I wanted to scream it.

I think I’m just not worth helping. I’m too impossible, too broken, and everyone is giving up on me. As they should.


February 4, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 5:21 pm

I feel like I don’t fit in my skin. I don’t fit in myself. I want to claw at it, rip it open, but I’m not convinced there’d be anything underneath.

d i s s o c i a t i o n

I need out. Out of my body, out of my life, out of myself? I don’t know. Just…OUT. I was okayish last night and I woke up after dreaming about alien puppies that came through a dimensional portal (yes really) and there’s no reason for me not to be okay but I’m not.

I want to cut. I want to binge and purge, and with the Social Security money, I could even afford to. I keep thinking about killing myself.

No. Not today. Today I am going to put on my shoes and walk to the pet store to buy Winston more food and bones. (He may actually be an extradimensional puppy because he chewed his last bone in half in two days.) Then I’m going to go grocery shopping, not binge food shopping. Then I’m going to eat actual food and then go to kung fu because hitting things is awesome.

And I’m trying to keep breathing.


Scream February 3, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 12:49 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

I need to binge and purge or cut or burn or do SOMETHING self-destructive. I’m crawling out of my skin for no apparent reason. I’m fat, my ED is fake, I have no friends, everyone’s sick of hearing my shit, and I deserve it. I should be dead. My life is pointless, and I am worthless.

I have no mouth and I must scream.


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