Hmmm...

Arroh...

So I am feeling compelled to post something, but am at a bit of a loss as to what to write about. I have about five different things half-written, and am feeling particularly uninspired by all of them. Anything funny I want to write is just turning out silly, and anything serious is kinda tinged with pissiness. And my voice is beginning to bore me a bit; wondering if it is the same when you read me...

I am thinking that a nice segway from 'Love' is 'Mental Illness'... lol. But that's not something I can be particularly fucked explaining much of right now.

So, I will bond the two briefly (Love and Mental Illness, that is) with a quick story.



I've had both Love and a Mental Illness. I was in a pretty much fantastic relationship for quite some time, with a supportive, nurturing, gorgeous, and patient partner. Due to my own sometimes shitty personality, coupled with times of extreme mental anguish due to my particular disorder I put him through Hell, and a lot of what hung him in there with me was some hope that I'd be 'better' one day...'well' again. He had faith in both of us that all the effort we put into 'making things work' would pay off in the end. However, it ended when I pulled the plug on the whole thing... 1) because I couldn't bear how evil I was being to the people I loved... 2) I lost a lot of respect for him for staying with me. I didn't think he was valuing and respecting HIMSELF staying with me. And 3) that relationship had required me to take on so many roles to so many people, that when the time came to make a big decision in terms of where to take the relationship next; how to make the next load of compromises, I was at a total loss. I could not hear enough of my own opinion. I  couldn't hear MySelf. Not only did I have the multiple views that my varying roles gave me, but I had sub-classes to these roles. So for example, I wasn't just a wife or partner: I was 'depressed wife'; 'well' wife; 'sexy' wife; 'mother' wife; 'working' wife; 'committed' wife; 'psychotic' wife... When I made the 'decision' to run, it was more out of blind fear and being totally overwhelmed by the anarchy in my head; I didn't realise at the time, but in retrospect I was so fragmented I couldn't even see myself as a whole anymore. I left that relationship because my love for him and he for me had rendered me unrecognisable; 'acting' pieces of Me from memory. In fact, so tight was our relationship, so strong our love, we were pretty much knotted together; I wasn't even sure anymore how much of Me was Him (I am staring to see why 'Remember Sammy Jankis' is so touching to me... I WILL have that tattoo.)

And yes... That's just one story. And, yes... it's just the story of someone admittedly 'fucked up'. But if I didn't think the sentiment would be felt by others, or if I didn't feel like there are people out there feeling similar who have not yet found the way to putting it all into words, I'd likely not bother. It's easy for me to write this shit... I have few problems with 'sharing', but I like to be heard. And I do try to make listening to me semi-enjoyable (like a handjob with a grater...?).

This could well be total drivel. Dunno. Just have a desperate need to post. Sorry. x