Ok so this funk is a little more intense than I realized.
The only thing that is helping is to write.
This blog helps me to heal.
Helps me to vent.
Let’s me be real when I can’t be to the real world.
People say you can call me and vent, talk to me.
That has burned me in the past though.
I have a few friends that know everything I am dealing with, but for the most part I try to just write.
What is too detailed to post, sits in my queue for posting at a later time.
I learned the hard way that sharing all of my stresses and all of my drama (for lack of a better word) can push people away.
Not everyone can handle it or if they can, maybe they just didn’t want too.
I don’t blame them.
It is what it is right?
I unloaded all of my hurt on someone and it was just too much.
I don’t know what made me think it was ok to do that.
I know to be on my guard and to keep a strong face.
I thought that it was different with them though, so I unloaded.
It was too much.
My walls are up right now.
It’s easier to stay away from the people that you know can see the hurt in your eyes.
Maybe that’s what I’m doing right now.
I hadn’t thought of that.
See, writing helps.
I’m good at faking when I need too, but they can see it.
I have felt this way before.
I know the feeling and I know it will go away.
The thing is to get to a point where it doesn’t happen anymore.
I’m overwhelmed right now.
A lot is going wrong and it feels like a downward spiral.
Out of control.
Standing in quicksand and your foot is getting sucked down.
Farther and farther.
I’m tired, exhausted, but I can’t sleep.
When I sleep I can’t get up.
I know that.
Anyone can diagnose me, it isn’t rocket science.
When will it end?
I mean really?
Up, up, up and then he shoots me down.
Like a balloon that you blow up but forget to tie.
You let it go and it comes spiraling back down.
He knows just when to let it go so he can watch it come spiraling back down.
I can take so much.
So much more now than I used to take.
I used to only travel up a short distance before spiraling back down.
I can travel much farther now.
I’m just done.
I am so done with this chapter of my life.
Of our life.
I am ready to turn the page but I can’t.
My own personal Hell and he loves it.
Loves that he is in control.
Loves that he can do what he wants when he wants and it hurts us all.
Hate is such a strong word.
I don’t like that word.
I don’t hate anyone.
People have hurt me in the past, I don’t hate them.
I hate him.
I despise him and everything he is.
I don’t know when it got so bad.
Yes I do but it doesn’t matter anymore.
It has gone on so long and has been so excruciating, watching paint dry, that who really cares anymore?
The goal is to wear me down so I will just end it however he wants.
Well the good news for him is, I am worn down.
The bad news is that I haven’t spent the last two years of my life in Hell to just crumble.
So yes, right now I am in a funk.
I am down.
For lots of reasons but they all stem back to him.
Let’s just be honest.
It hasn’t been for nothing.
I refuse to believe that.
Christmas with zero help was rough but I made it through that, with smiling kids.
I know I will be ok.
I know it.