Ghosting

Life.  I don't know if I'd call this endless, empty, existence a life.

I don't feel real, I don't feel like a person, not unless others are around me pulling me into existence.  Until they leave again or until it's time for me to leave.  Sometimes I wonder if I succeeded in committing suicide and this is my personal hell.  I feel like a ghost just drifting through the World with no meaning to whatever this existence is.

I don't feel real.

Am I defined by my illness?  Is it who I am?

It has lost me a husband and gained me a caretaker instead.   He is just existing too, between work, sleep, and taking care of me because I can be a danger to myself.  I have to hide the proof of my past transgressions.  Long sleeves in the summer are a misery but I think I deserve it.  The painful scars aren't enough punishment for putting my loved ones through the worry I've put them through.  Seeing the scars every time I glance at my arm, they won't fade, being reminded of that day, knowing that I was serious about ending the pain is not enough.

I would give anything for 5 minutes of total sanity and happiness.  No I wouldn't.  The pain would seem more pronounced, the depression stronger, all because of those 5 minutes of peace.  You never realize just how much pain you're in until you get a break from it.  When it comes back, when it comes back...

 

My sister sent me a link to this song and some of it fits too well, too close to my reality.  I just can't wrap my head around the idea that I'm an innocent.

I'm in a bad place again.  I want to numb the pain, trying to stop it is too dangerous and makes me less trustworthy in the eyes of my friends and family.  They wonder how far I'll go.  What if?  It scares them.  I wish they knew how much it scares me.

I'm ghosting through life looking for meaning.  Like the Velveteen Rabbit I want to be real.  I want my life to have meaning.  I want it to be worth something.

Much More Muchier

I used to feel much more muchier than I do now.  I feel like I've lost my muchness.  I don't feel like me anymore.  There's a distinct lack of passion for most all areas of my life.  That is not me, it isn't the me I used to be and want to be again.

I'm doing my husband and Owner a huge disservice with neglect to his feelings and needs.  I don't know how to meet his needs when I have no desire for those things and, in fact, go into a panic thinking about it.  How can I be doing this to him?  I love him and I want to make him happier than he is now.  I know my neglecting him is contributing to his unhappiness.  Gods know I don't want us to fall into being a sexless couple forever and ever.

Other than going completely off meds, I don't know what else to do.  I know the meds are to blame, everything physical checks out as normal.  We talked today, he tells me going off meds is not an option.  I got the impression that divorce would follow if I went off meds and back to the manic freak I was.  The thing is, I'm afraid divorce could follow extended neglect.

I'm scared that my brain is changed forever, that the meds have ruined everything and that this person is who I will always be now.  I don't like this person.  I didn't like the manic me either but at least I had passion and desire.  I LIVED.  Now I just seem to exist.

I'm having a hard time feeling attached or bound to anyone but the people I live with.  Even then, I like being alone more often than not because I don't have the stress of their needs and feeling like a failure because I can't seem to meet them.

WHY does there have to be such an expensive trade off?  It feels like a punishment.  I've lost my life, I've lost myself.

Ouch!

It's been non-stop panic-anxiety for a few weeks.  Which is causing it?  The isolation or the medication?  Which is worse?  Me off meds or me isolated?

I'm trying to figure out what I can do with my life from this point forward.  Sooner or later I'll have an answer.

Ketchup

Well,

Here we are again, me having been gone a while and trying to catch up.

Life has been full of ups and downs and I'm learning to move up and down with them.  Not easy to live with.

I don't know where I left off so I'll just hit the highlights.  I've been diagnosed bipolar with medication resistant depression, panic/anxiety disorder, and emotional intensity disorder.  Some days are better than others.  The medication side effects are an adventure in ugh.

Alan/Dominus and I are trying to build a new D/s relationship for ourselves.  The relationship seems to be going along well and building upon itself with little effort.  I have no complaints about our relationship.  I feel fulfilled in submitting to Dominus.

The problem I do have is a lack of kink socialization, no kink play at all, and still this stupid need to have another love in my life.  I want my old love back.  We have part of a lifetime together and he and Alan got on famously.  They both loved me well.  I don't know if I can, or want to, find another love.  They won't be him and I want him.

Then again, Alan and I haven't talked about this.  He may not allow me another friend/kinky play/lover again.  I don't know yet how to feel about that possibility.  I just considered it as a possibility.

I am trying to focus on what I do have instead of what I don't have.  But the reality is I feel isolated, I feel like I will never have SM play again.  I feel like I'll never get to try the kink things I'd been planning to try with the person who came after my former love, Sir, whatever.  I have two brand spanking new toys I had bought to be used on me that I doubt I will ever feel.  I'd had a multi-cane toy that had been sitting in my closet for the better part of a year before someone finally used it on me.  It makes me sad that it was neither of my men who used it.

I'm having to give up certain things in order to take care of my mental health.  I know it's for my own good and I know it's important that I do it but in the long run which is worse?  Better mental health or low quality of life?

I'm facing this same question regarding libido and ability to orgasm.  Take the medication and have more stable moods and no libido or orgasms, or don't take the medication have libido and orgasms and probably be mentally worse off, maybe lose my family or my freedom in the process.  sigh

Other than that, I'm ecstatic.  Really it isn't as bleak as all that.  Those are just snippets of the whole.

My former lover is my current friend.  It is difficult sometimes but I'd rather have him in my life as a friend than not in my life at all.  We have three interesting grown children, and three amazing granddaughters.

Dominus has taken an interest in decorating his submissive.  He hasn't taken me officially as his submissive or anything else, we're taking baby steps together and I like that.  But he is enjoying decorating me and dressing me in ways that please him.  Since I cannot work he is starting to let me have facial piercings that he feels are feminine and enhance my looks.  I love it.  I'm his Teddy Bear too, whenever he feels like it he will tell me to come cuddle when he is in bed.  I love being Dominus's Teddy Bear.  I also love the privilege of greeting him at the door every morning after he gets off work.  After that I am allowed to clean out his lunch box.

I am going to start belly dancing class tomorrow night so I can entertain Dominus with my dancing.  Plus, I just enjoy belly dance, it makes me feel sexy.

I'm taking an intensive behavior modification class to help me learn to manage the emotional intensity and my outlook is starting to change a little bit.  I still wish there was a cure.

 

Sick

I am sick with stress.  I'm sick knowing I have lost friends due to my own behavior or X's trust breaching.  I am sick with feeling I cannot trust anyone because they choose to be sheeple and not ask my side of it.  Dominus says they've shown their true colors and to be done with them.  But it hurts and it still makes me sick.

I want to be part of the group again, not an outsider looking in.  I guess I did that myself by taking a hiatus, you lose your standing as a valuable anything if you take time to take care of yourself.  You lose your standing too when you've got jackals at your back sharing only the choicest bits of what you've said, the bits out of context that will make you look like a horrid person.  They leave out the things they've said or done.  They leave out the bits that would prove them untrustworthy.  But no, let's not ask questions, it's so much easier to swallow everything they say, hook, line, and sinker.

It hurts but what can you do?  People will believe what they choose to believe.  It's much easier than thinking for yourself.

I am sick, I want closure, I want people to fess up, to be honest.  I want people to think for themselves and wonder if maybe they should ask me to see what I have to say.  I guess that's asking too much.

Veritas et Aequitas.  It's in my skin, it's what I believe in, and it's what I deserve.

Crazies/Metnally Ill/Tired

DISCLAIMER: To all my fellow mentally ill peeps, I call mental illness crazy it's a catch-all word without having to go into detail about the particulars or waste time saying it all.

I'm tired of people in general. Not you, not you, you, but not you.

I go along believing I'm crazy and then every now and then someone out-crazies me and I realize that in comparison I am perfectly sane. The perspective is awesome but the experience is wearying.

You cannot reason with a crazy person, logic is a foreign concept, and their reality trumps Reality. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't. The extremes in behavior almost give you (general you) whiplash.

I hate drama, I really do. I prefer to get along but there are some people out there who just won't get along, they don't want to. It's really saddening, I feel badly for them because they must be extremely miserable.

Keep your good friends close, you (again in general) don't realize how valuable and rare they are until the crazies jump out at you or your own crazy takes hold. sigh

Mental Illness NOT Under Control

So my "emotional intensity", as my therapist likes to call it, is out of control just focused in a different direction from my loved ones.  Oh Goody.

I have to ask for a higher dose of the medicine and find out if I can still join the intensive behavior modification group.  I hate being me today.  I neither want, nor need, your sympathy or well-intentioned suggestions or advice.  I just cannot handle needing to be polite and thankful right now.  I know what I am, what I'm not, and what I have to do.

I'm going to end up alone because of this crap because I can't seem to control this thing.  I just want to scream and cry and give someone else this pain because I'm done with it.