It Should’ve Just Ended With My Attempt

when will it be enough for me

i need to talk it over more, but these are my stipulations for now while i’m thinking about it at 3:30 in the morning

1. i will wait until i figure out my dissociation, DP/DR stuff and feel like a person again. i don’t want to make any huge life changing decisions while i can barely remember what happened two hours ago.

2. i will make sure it’s a converation; i don’t want to blindsight him, that’s not fair. i want to try and keep open communication about where i’m at and where he is

3. if he doesn’t put the work in, doesn’t start going to therapy and taking care of himself by this time next year, i’ll reevaluate

4. i want to also check in with myself and that i can distinguish between whether or not my issues lie exclusively in his emotional unavailability or if my sexuality is coming into play (wow, haven’t had a crisis like this in a second)

my good intentions will not negate the collateral damage i’m causing

thinking about this quote from bojack:

"But I want you to know that your actions have an effect on others, and I hate you, and you are a horrible person, and not understanding that you're a horrible person does not make you less of a horrible person".

it was over before it even started

i don’t know what i expected, it was never going to happen

i don’t know why i’m still hurt

i didn’t know i could feel anything still

i know i’m still loved, however small my place in their world may be, but it feels like that space is getting smaller and smaller

i should know better than to try to cling to things that i can’t hold

i’m dying

slowly, but always

and i miss a lot of things

all the time, really

and i worry of course

about everything, always

i’m sick

fed up, lovesick, homesick, brain-sick, twisted

if i were livestock, i’d have been taken to the yard by now i would think

if i were livestock, i’d feel less alone i would think

sometimes i wish i was ill in a way that i could purge, or in a way that would purge me

i don’t feel anything, not really

my emotions don’t reach me

i’m so far away from myself

it feels like i’m being nudged

just sensations, mild discomfort

nothing gets past the barrier

it’s like throwing stones at a brick wall

WHO FUCKING CARES

I CANT FIX IT

EVERYONE’S HURTING AND IM SO FUCKING ANGRY AND I DONT KNOW WHY

I’M FUCKING USELESS I’M SUCH A FUCKING WASTE I’M SO SICK IM SO SICK I’M SO SICK

i think i flew too close to the sun this time

i want to be small again

i punched the storm door like you did that one time when i was a teenager

except i wasn’t thinking about hurting someone else

i keep hurting myself to bleed you out my body, but i must’ve i forget that we’re not blood

i don’t have your genes but those who know us both would never be able to tell

i wonder if i remind mom of her abusers

i have my father’s face and i have your temperament

i was there for five hours, brought dinner home, and when i got back, he’d moved furniture again and i immediately had an emotional response. then he asked if i’d look at what he’d been up to and i obliged, trying to hide that i was upset.

he had set up a small desk area for me in his space- something i’d planned to do myself, but hadn’t had the chance

that’s what he’d been working on

and i’d been spent my time away talking about our issues

i wasn’t saying anything untrue or inaccurate to how i felt, but i feel terrible for talking about him so negatively while he was at home making a space just for me

it doesn’t negate our problems, but it’s a reminder of how much he does love me contrasted with the way i talk about him and that really hurts

the timing is a little conveniently inconvenient. sometimes i wonder if her just knows

i don’t hate him, i don’t even dislike him. i love him with everything i have, but it’s so hard

his dismissal of my emotions, his neglect of his own, his complacency, unwillingness to grow is putting me in a position. the barrier there is between us is apparent to not just me

and i know he has his own side of the story and i would love to hear it

but he won’t talk to me

and that’s where we’re at. a standstill.

he said once he figures out his schedule, and gets his insurance figured out, he’ll try therapy

a year. i’m going to try and give it a year