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I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance (karma: 1)
By Sumayah
On Fri Dec 22, 2017 09:24 AM
Locked by Sumayah (204191) on 2018-09-09 22:46:23 Time for a new one

Welcome to the future.

I am single. I am determined. I am ready to fight.







Title: youtu.be . . .
Image: traffordparsons.com/product/rebel-rebel-leia/

172 Replies to I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance

re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Elfiemember has saluted, click to view salute photosPremium member
On Fri Dec 22, 2017 11:42 AM
Congratulations! I'm very proud of you, it's not an easy thing to get out of a bad relationship, but sensitive people can't afford toxic relationships.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sun Dec 24, 2017 10:39 AM
Thank you! I’m pretty proud of me too!

This diary is going to be a lot of healing, a lot growth, a lot of crying. As soon as January 1st rolls around, I will be finding a therapist to work with. This is something important to me, I’ve got a lot of anger and resentment built up inside and I don’t know how to deal with it so I... don’t?

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING - emotionally abusive relationship, graphic sex

Those of you who follow me on social media know that my pups Cosmo died on late Friday night. I’ve seen it coming. On Tuesday, the 19th, the day I got divorced, my dad came with me to court for moral support. I was fine. I was smiling leaving the courtroom. Starving. So we got breakfast and over breakfast I told him that every day Cosmo was alive was more a surprise than if I came downstairs and found Cosmo dead. Wednesday, I told my nephew the same thing when he was worried about Faye (his German shepherd puppy) being outside with Cosmo.

So Friday, after my sister made queso and we had fixed ourselves bowls of queso for dinner, when my nephew brought a stiff pups inside and gently laid him on the doggie bed and said, “I think Cosmo’s dead,” I was like... welp. I went over and pet him and he was cold and stiff and not breathing and definitely dead. And I looked at my bowl of queso and looked at my dead dog and said, “Is it wrong that I want to eat before dealing with this?” We decided to wrap him in a plastic garbage bag and put him in a box in the garage where he’d stay cold and not get gross overnight and bury him the next morning (it was already dark out).

So we reheated dinner, drank some beer, watched the Great British Bake Off and post to social media and tried to feel sadder than I felt. Like, I’m pretty sure all y’all felt sadder about Cosmo’s passing than I did. Saturday morning I got up, dug a grave in the flowerbed - and if you’ve ever dug a hole in Texas soil you know the Herculean task it is to dig through caliche. I buried Cosmo, and came inside and got dressed. I haven’t grieved of felt sad yet. My heartstrings felt a little plucked when I saw Baxter wandering the house looking for Cosmo. He’s never known life here without his buddy. I wonder if he’s gonna be okay?

I have been on a spending spree lately. One I know I need to control. I know what I’m doing. It’s a conscious thing. I’m very aware of my finances and where they stand, and I know a lot of this stuff I shouldn’t have done, but I knowing did anyway. Here’s what I mean. Friday I went to Lowe’s. We’re finally going to paint the last two unpainted rooms in the house. My room and my sister’s room (which was B’s office). While we were getting paint and walking around and looking at stuff I passed by showerheads. And I stopped. Mine sprays all which way but down. So I decided that since I’m here, might as well replace that. Ended up seeing my third nephew (not really, he’s my nephews bestie, so he’s family by default) and we chatted with him. Then we passed by the washers and dryers and I longingly ran my hands over the pretty blue Samsung ones. The ones I’ve been staring at since we remodeled the downstairs. They were onsale.

😒

My current washer and dryer were “new to me” and I’ve already disassembled the washer to replace a part. The dryer sometimes takes three runs before it dries anything and it makes your clothes smell burned. So my other nephew got me set up with a new washer and dryer. We kept walking through and I pointed out that I one day I wanted to do a backsplash in the kitchen. I hadn’t been allowed to - no money for that - when we remodeled. The tile I loved is half off. There’s exactly enough pieces. Exactly. WELP.

I didn’t need all that. I coukd make do with the washer and dryer I have, I could have made do without a backsplash, I don’t have to paint. But yet...

I know I don’t have the money to pay for it right now, that paying it off will be slow, but I choose to do it anyway.

I was denied SO MUCH in my marriage. I know that’s why I’m going overboard now. I’m extremely cognizant of the fact that it’s a direct reaction to always being told no. So now I’m rebelling and telling myself yes. I know it’s healthy - to a point - and probably something I need to go through and so long as I stay on top of making sure I’m paying my bills and not letting things go, it should be okay.

When we remodeled the house, B got drums, he got his pool table, he got his students loans paid off, his car paid off, he got so. much. from it. I got a Roomba and the chance to choose the tile around the fireplace. I told him I wanted to go to Hamilton. So when I saw tickets were available in Houston, even though I don’t really have that money, I bought a ticket. I will be there. Because that was the one thing I wanted and I will make it happen. It hurt, putting that on my credit card, but you know what? It’s worth it. And better yet, I don’t have to hear about it.

Any time I got something, I heard about. Remember, you got XYZ? Well, that’s why we can’t go out to eat now or that’s why we can’t go to the movies or that’s why you can’t go on the trip you wanted. But he still bought plenty of games and movies and gaming systems and toys. Literal toys. TMNT figures. But if I wanted something? Mmm no, that’s not in the budget, sorry.

And if the credit card bill was high? I had to literally justfy all my purchases. He’d call. And call. And call. And leave horrible messages. And text. He’d text about how he can’t keep doing this, how he’s going to have a heart attack, how he’s not going to pay for my dance and he’s not going to work to just pay bills. And if I was home he’d yell and cry and I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise. He’d ask why I’d do this to him, if I wanted him to have a heart attack before he was 40. And he’d give me the credit card bill accusatorially and make me feel so small. And I’d go through it. Grocery store, gas station, eating out a few times a week. And I’d show him. And he’d demand to know why the grocery store bill was $300. I’d say come with me, come see the price of everything. And he’d say no.

He didn’t just want four or five bottles of tea, he wanted forty or fifty or more - at $1.20 a piece. He didn’t want a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, it was five of each. Everything was bought in bulk. He couldn’t ever be inconvenienced to run out of something. So my grocery store bill was $300 a week. My take away from that? Less than $100.

He’d calm down. Sometimes apologize. But be sure to bring up that I don’t work enough and I don’t take care of the house well enough and I did then he wouldn’t be so stressed. And he’d tell me to find a better job. He’d tell me to get off my phone - that if I didn’t he’d take it away. He’d tell me to stop being so negative around him, that it affects him and he can’t deal with negativity. To stop arguing with him. To stop questioning him. To just for once do what he told me to the first time instead of drawing it out and making everything SO DIFFICULT. That it didn’t have to be so difficult. Why couldn’t I just be consistent? Why couldn’t I just clean the house when I was supposed to? Why couldn’t I just do my laundry on Sunday - even though he had rags to do - when he graciously allowed me that day sjnce that was the day I seemed to do laundry on and not leave stuff in the dryer? Why couldn’t I just do the dishes - even if they were all his and he hadn’t bothered to rinse them off? Why did I have to be difficult about sex? He just wanted sex, he wasn’t going to waste his time with foreplay, when was I going to figure that out? He wanted me naked for all sex acts, whether I wanted to be naked or not. Blow job? We both had to be totally naked. I hated it. HATED IT. He also masturbated naked. I’m actually really interested in getting with another guy just to see if I hated giving B a blow job because of how he made me feel or if I just really don’t enjoy having a dick in my mouth. It should be interesting. Because it might just be the sheer fact that I was basically forced to strip down and perform a sex act is what made it awful. That there was no lead up just whinging until I got drunk enough to shut him up by doing it. It always felt very degrading. So maybe in a healthier relationship it’s different. ANYWAY. That went somewhere I wasn’t expecting. Sorry guys. I guess I really need to talk right now. I should put content warnings at the top... and done.

So yeah. After 14 years of THAT is anyone surprised that I’m spending a little too much money and getting things I wanted but was denied?

I found my old curved barbell last night. I have a navel piercing. Got it in 1998. B never liked it, he didn’t like piercings or tattoos and so I took it out. In 2003. For him. Despite the fact that I liked it and thought it was sexy. He was weirdly jealous of my body. He got angry? upset? about my Cheshire Cat tattoo and how close it was to my pubic area. He actually asked how much the tattoo artist had seen. Uh? First, none of your damn business and second, there’s so much sterile draping, none? Right now I sort of want to (safely) just go sleep with a bunch of people. Women. Men. Whoever is hot and wants to take me home. Just to purge my body of him. To make it so that he isn’t my only sexual partner. To just go live and make mistakes and yeah. Have some silly regrets. I never did that. I never had the chance. Religion. Too good, too afraid. I want that time back.

But yeah, the piercing is still there and the jewelry is now back where it belongs. I have plans for future tattoos and I think I might look into some subtle piercings that would be work appropriate. Just because I never got to do it. However those are completely non important projects for a future date. Not now.

All right you guys, it’s time to get up, get some coffee in me and yeah. :)
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Fri Dec 29, 2017 07:30 PM
Requisite CW/TW about body image and weight and stuff. And graphic sex.

Hello my friends, and welcome to Sumayah Has No Self-Esteem Despite The Fact That She Really Should And People Tell Her She’s Beautiful But She Doesn’t Believe Them Because Insecurity Is The Worst (or SHNSEDTFTSRSAPTHSBBSDBTBIITW).

So on today’s episode of SHNSEDTFTSRSAPTHSBBSDBTBIITW we are going to examine why Sunayah’s friends are ready to throw their hands in the air and just... walk away at this point. I was having a good face day. And I knew the moment I put more than a bra on, it was going to get disheveled and mussed up. I took three quick pictures leaning back on my pillows in my bra. Like, nothing shows but bra straps and my sternum, not even cleavage (because I have none) and really good makeup and decent hair, but my self image meter ticked over to, that’s really naked, you cannot put that put there. So I texted a friend who would give me an honest opinion because someone needed to see it and it wasn’t exactly racy.

And she responded “Oh girl” with some hearts and I smiled, ear to ear. Because yeah, I felt pretty and kind of sexy in that picture and I don’t usually look at myself and feel sexy. Or pretty. I usually fix the light and color, maybe through a filter on it but frequently not. A lot of my pictures are raw from my camera because I don’t feel like I deserve to hide how unattractive I am. Why filter out the flaws? It doesn’t make me any more desirable in real life. So yeah, this picture I cropped I did auto correct on and that was it. And I smiled and I felt happy.

And I couldn’t leave it alone.

Instead of just accepting the compliment and feeling good, that voice in my head, that doubt, that gnawing pain of never being good enough crept in and I had to justify it. And my friend was supportive and told me I was beautiful and I deserved to feel good about the picture. But that need to hear someone tell me (as I start crying while I’m typing this, jesus, why am I like this? Why can’t I just grow up and get past this shit?) the need to hear someone tell me that I looked sexy and that yeah, someone would want me, someone would want to get me naked just kept eating at me. And it wasn’t my friend who would want to get me in bed, but just a general statement that someone would. That someone would want. And I know it’s been just over a week since the divorce was final, but I’ve felt so alone and unwanted for so, so long.

Ever since the beginning of my marriage when B told me that cuddling with me was a waste of his time, that seriously did harm to my sense of self-worth. Couple that with the fact that our sex life was pretty much on his terms - I don’t know what foreplay is, I mean that literally. Sex was get naked and wait in bed and have sex and then be done. If I got drunk enough, and instigated it, it was more fun, more positions, but even that was get naked get in bed and then... do all the work? If I wad on top he just lay there. I’d try to encourage him to touch me and he’d donit halfheartedly, but it was very voyeuristic and made me uncomfortable. Like he’d put his hands behind his head and just watch. And shutting my eyes, trying to imagine I with someone else? Didn’t work. Trying to kiss him, kiss his chest, rub on his body? He didn’t like that, it spoiled his view. So we’d start in missionary because then I could just disengage from sex altogether and close my eyes and just, I don’t know, not be there, and then we go to doggie stule to finish because that’s how he’d finish which was fine with me because it meant I could lay on the pillows and close my eyes and he wasn’t kissing me anymore and then he’d be done and I’d go to the bathroom and get dressed. I had to be a bottle of wine in to enjoy sex with him, to be uninhibited enough to actually get into it. Except when I did, I was too rough. Also, he didn’t like his pecs or nipples to be touched and he didn’t like a light touch - it tickled - and no nails, so. Yeah.

Basically because of all that, I’ve never really felt sexy, like ever. I own beautiful lingerie. But no foreplay. Lingerie was a waste of time. Why bother when it was just immediately coming off? His remarks to me. I shouldn’t bother putting on lingerie, he’d rather I was just naked - easier access. That was early in the marriage too. So I have this unreasonable need to not be pretty or beautiful, I want to desirable. I want to be sexy. And my friend, being my friend and not being my lover, was telling me I was beautiful. And I couldn’t get it out to her what I needed to hear or why. That even if she didn’t want to ever sleep with me I just needed her to tell me the picture was sexy and that I was hot and that yeah. And how do you express that much insecurity and years and years of hurt? Without saying “look just tell me you’d do me because my ex screwed me up and I just need to hear that right at this exact moment?” Ugh. And I do look beautiful in the picture. But I wanted to be desirable, you know?

I’ve also gained back 10 pounds since Thanksgiving. Way too much food. (+cough+candy and cookies and booze+cough+) Not enough walking. (+cough+none at all+cough+) So I feel gross and heavy. My fleshbag is all fleshy and doughy and overflowing my jeans. And I need to stop that and get that under control. Because I know I should accept my body, I know that anyone who is going to like me is going to like me for me, not because I’m a size 2 or 20, but I look in the mirror and all the body dysmorphia just distorts everything. I’m a 12 right now. I was a 10. But I look in the mirror and see these absolute thick fleshy waves of skin billowing out. And it disgusts me. On me. Other people? Don’t care. On me? It’s the most horrific and disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. Like, I don’t want anyone to see me naked right now because I’m this bulbous disgusting growth on the planet. And yet that description literally only applies to me. It doesn’t apply to anyone or any body else. The exact body like mine standing next to me is beautiful and lovely and perfect. My body is a travesty upon the planet and no one should be subjected to seeing it.

That kind of another reason that picture was important to me. I post pictures and I kind of don’t care, because I look how I look and well, that’s that. But I actually felt good in this picture. Which is rare. Especially given how I currently feel in my skin. That I feel this way andntook a picture that makes me hope someone would want to get me naked is a positive thing. And my self-loathing and self-doubt have to go and ruin it. And I know I’m not the Hunchback of Notre Dame or the Elephant Man. I’m not some freak or medical anomaly. I’m pretty average.

And that’s what worries me.

I’m pretty average. I’m average height. I’m overweight. I’m blahnde and blue eyed like every other girl in Texas. I’m quiet. I’m awkward. I’m oblivious to flirting. Like unless someone comes up to me directly and out right tells me they’re interested I sorta assume they aren’t? Because why would they be? There are so many more beautiful men and women around who are vivacious and interesting and I’m mousey and demure and yeah. Would you buy a drink for the girl sitting by herself staring at her phone sadly looking pathetic? No? Yeah, me either. So who would want me? Quiet, boring me?

Well Sumayah, have you gotten out there and tried yet?

+in a small voice+
No. I’m scared.

Guys, B was my first. My only. And I want to change that. I am going to change that. But it’s scary. I don’t know how to start. I’m afraid. And I’ve been afraid of a lot of things. And I’ve done them. Successfully. And I will do this too. But working through all of this is daunting. This is a lot of baggage to deal with. This is a lot of personal worth I have to try to find. A lot of self-esteem I need to source from somewhere. Because I can’t be the mousey girl pathetically sitting alone on her phone looking unapproachable, I need to be open and interesting and ready for new experiences. It’s just going to take some personal work. Hard work. Maybe some grieving for myself, for my past self, for those expectations that never got fulfilled. Maybe some crying as I rip the bandaid off and douse the wound in alcohol because I’ve carried this for too many years. I can’t keep this up. I can’t keep lugging these insecurities around. They are painful. I need to let them go. I just don’t know how.

Okay beauties, I love you.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sat Dec 30, 2017 02:52 PM
Okay, on my sister’s recommendation I signed up for Bumble yesterday. It’s a bit like Tinder - swipe left, swipe right - but you can only initiate a conversation if both prople swipe right and even then only the woman can start a conversation and even then you’ve got 24 hours. So dudes aren’t just harassing women and sending unsolicited dick pics. AND unlike Match where you have to choose men or women, Bumble lets you choose men, women, or everyone. So bisexual folx rejoice! So instead of just having women to choose from, I’m looking at everyone. And it’s funny, I notice my swipe right ratio is like 1 dude per every 4 ladies. Ha! Mostly because a lot of the guys are very DudeBros™ or RepublicanRichGuys™ (one guy had Trump 2020 in his profile. SWIPE LEFT IN A HURRY.) so yeah. I hate to stereotype but if your profile picture involves lifting or CrossFit? I’m out. Men or women. Lady lifters I’m sorry but I’m just super not into that scene. If your profile picture features you playing in a band? Nope. Sorry musicians, but I’m not into the lifestyle. But if you have kind eyes and nice smile? Okay. Maybe a dorky picture or something not pretentious in your profile? I’ll swipe right.

So far, I matched with one dude. He’s cute. He has a dog. We’re chatting. So we’ll see. I did meet up with my Match friend, Y. We chatted about Dr Who almost the entire time. She tiny and Persian and has an accent and I’m glad we’re friends. It’s good to have out friends in the area. Especially friends who are super nerdy and into the same things I am!

I do have a crush on an online friend. Why must my cute online friends be far away? It’s not fair. She around my age and also recently divorced. So we’ve a lot in common. And also gorgeous. But anyway. Stop getting infatuated with inaccessible people Suma. Or is that why I do? Because they’re inaccessible? Both physically and emotionally? Because it’s easy to like someone from a distance, safely, where you aren’t involved with their daily life. I mean hell, y’all like me despite reading all this +gestures dramatically at everything+ so yeah. And it’s easy. It’s easy to have a crush and feel something and know it won’t become a real thing. And know that even if the other person doesn’t feel the same it doesn’t matter? Because it’s not like y’all will ever meet and hook-up anyway. And even if you did meet, y’all both have lives and other relationships or exes or baggage to deal with and no one wants the responsibility of treading on someone who is vulnerable. And we all know that’s precisely what I am. And no doubt what my crush is (given she’s going through a divorce too, except hers is messier). So it’s harmless? There’s a knowing feeling nothing will come of this so why not? We’ll be friends and friends are good (if I can keep myself from screwing those relationships up).

I’m very much a tell me person. K and I had that. I would call her pretty regularly and one day she finally said, dude, stop calling all the time, I love you but it’s starting to feel like you’re my girlfriend and I kinda want to break up with you. Okay. Like tell me. Before it hits that point. I stopped calling. It was fine. It didn’t hurt my feelings because she was straight with me and I adjusted my end and it was better. That was one thing B never did. He’d just blow up at me. Instead of talking to me and allowing me a chance to process, he’d get mad that I wasn’t doing something and then he’d be sarcastic and caustic and mean about it which had the unintended effect of making me not do the thing because HOW DARE YOU and then he’d stew on it and I wouldn’t do it and he’d get madder and madder and until he’d lose it. And yell at me and say he TOLD ME ALREADY AND I DIDN’T IT and it would be hurtful mess and would end up with him dragging out all my faults and parading them in front of me and showing me what a disappointing human I was and how he was superior and made all the money and did all the stuff and never got rest and I was just a loser who could do the simplest things that he asked me to do and basically I always felt worthless. Useless. Always seeking approval. Did you notice I did the dishes? Did you see how nice the downstairs looked? Yes, however it took you all weekend and you need to do that every other weekend not once a month. +deflating bubble+ And when you clean this did you use XYZ product? Oh well you should because it would look better than it does now. Always seeking approval and never being good enough.

Goddamn.

I sort of feel like I should just delete my social media until I can get that cleared up because yeah. I’m basically just seeking appproval. All the time. Of everyone around me. It’s like I cannot hear enough praise. It’s never enough, because I’m never enough. I’ve never been enough. I settled for the first person who bothered to try even a little bit and then married them. I already felt lonely and unwanted.

Did I tell y’all the story of Brandon and Marshawn? When K and I lived together, they were our across the hall neighbors. Brandon looked like a young Jerry O’Connell. And I’d pass him and we’d chat and we had him and Lashawn over for Trivial Pursuit one night and Brandon went out with me and K downtown once. Clearly I wasn’t his type. K was. K was everyone’s type. They ended up making out and I ended up drinking alone. Any time K and I went out together, she’d end up making-out and I’d drink alone until I switched to water and sobered up so I could make sure she got home safely. She made out on the hood of my car one night long enough that I finally honked at 2:30am and said either go inside with him or get in the car because I’m going home. She got in the car and rode home with me. But that was my role, I was always the responsible friend who made sure everyone got home safe. I drank a lot of water and free soda. No one EVER bought me a drink. Not once. Not one damn time did anyone come over and sit by me and talk. Or flirt. I’d sit alone next to my friend who was engaged in an animated conversation with other people and get people leaning over me to get drinks at the bar.

So yeah, when the first person made even half an effort to get to know me and not K, it was sort of like, well I guess this is it? This is my one shot to be wanted, maybe my only opportunity to ever have sex (see: cult, religion, bullshit that screws you up) and I wanted to be wanted and I wanted to have sex. So I said yes. I got engaged after dating for 3 months. I got married 3 months later. I knew him for 6 months when I married him because I felt so unwanted and so looked over that I kinda thought it was my only chance. I was 22 and I had never before B gone on a date. I had never been kissed - he was my first (and only) kiss. I had never held hands with anyone. I had seen my peers. I remember being at church and pulling up late and one one the guys my age was outside with his arms around one of the girls my age (we were all 16? 17?) and just rolling my eyes because I knew no one looked at me that way. No one wanted me that way.

Which is probably my fault. I did my really, very best to build an unbreachable wall around myself. I was fully brainwashed and you were supposed to like boys. As a girl. But I remember my mom finding a drawing I had done out of curiosity, a female body with breasts and V for the vaginal area, and she confronted me about it. And welp. I just shut everything down. No looking at girls, though I did, but I didn’t let myself “like” girls, I just sort of was fascinated by certain ones especially. And I didn’t like boys because in elementary school I had been teased and well, I seem to take things far too much to heart. So I made myself undesirable to both sexes by presenting a very Goody-Two-Shoes Ice Princess persona. And it worked. Well. No one liked me. My self-defenses were outstanding and I went 22 years before anyone decided that maybe I wasn’t what my outer shell portrayed.

And like that, because I was actually desperate for friends, desperate for companionship, deaperate for someone to look at me and want to be with me, I married him.

And the guy I dated, the guy who held my hand and would go out to coffee with me, and cuddle on the couch with me, turned all that off once we were married. I was never good enough. I never did enough. And I was always making mistakes. And he was possessive of me. It wasn’t that he wanted me, he collected me, and he didn’t want anyone else to have me. I think that’s why I’m so dead set on going on dates and hooking up with someone. I don’t want to be this pristine thing he collected that only he’s touched. I want to have new experiences. I want his touch not to be the only one. I’m not looking for love. Someday maybe someone who loves me will touch me and want me. I do want that. But right now I just want B to not hold possession of me. And it’s stupid but I feel like he still does. Like until I do something about it, he will. And I’m crying again.

It’s just hard to explain. I know y’all are probably yelling through the computer at me right now and I am going to go to therapy. I need help. I’m clearly ready to talk about it, cry about it. And I want to move on. I want to be healthier. I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of fumbling around and screwing up. I don’t know how to proceed. I have to wait until my insurance starts on the 1st for me to get started and I will. And it scares me. I’m doing this because I need it. But the idea of talking this out with someone who is going to hold me accountable? That’s scary. Really scary. I mean what if my therapist just looks at me and goes, you know this is all your fault? You set all these things in motion. You did this to yourself. You have no one to blame but yourself. And I’m like I KNOW THAT’S WHY I’M HERE I’M TRYING TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY and she like, do better. I know this is al my fault.

All of it.

I know I’m to blame.

This is the result lf the choices I made.

I chose to take the teasing to heart, to say I didn’t like boys and stick to that longer than is healthy.

I chose to shut down any developing interest I had in girls and lock that up for 25 years.

I chose to build a wall and isolate myself from my peers at church. I was the weird one and separating myself voluntarily hurt less than being “forgotten” intentionally.

I chose to not engage with other people at bars and to sit by myself.

I chose to be the caretaker and designated driver and make sure everyone got home safely.

I chose to marry the first person who came around.

I chose not to speak up when my feelings were hurt in those first years of marriage.

I chose to beg him to stay because I was afraid of being left alone when he’d threaten to leave me in those early years.

I chose to be argumentative and to question him on everything instead of just doing what I was told.

I chose to leave.

And that was the first smart thing I’ve ever done.

So all this is my fault. I admit that. I own it. But what if the therapist is like you made your bed, so here are your consequences. I’m dealing with them poorly. Crying and feeling sorry for myself doesn’t make it better. It just makes me more pathetic. I need to toughen up. I need to stop being such a baby and dwelling on things from years ago.

I fixed it didn’t I?

I left. I got divorced. I don’t need to keep dwelling on the past. The past holds nothing for me. The future does. It’s time I stopped this, stopped whinging about oh woe is me, I’ve been so wronged. I haven’t. I did it to myself. These are my consequences. Now it’s time to grow up and move onward. Crying about it won’t change anything.

C’mon feet. Let’s get some stuff accomplished. Time to be positive.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sat Dec 30, 2017 05:29 PM
I’m not done talking and this deserves another post. Again, if you follow me on social media, you know what’s been up, and for some reason what I haven’t wanted to talk about.

My house flooded.

BECAUSE OF COURSE IT DID.

B, in his infinite wisdom, deemed himself quite the plumber and replaced fixtures in the house. So far, all have been fine. Except the guest bath. Since my sister and nephew have moved in it’s been used more in the past month than in the past dozen or more years. Well the faucet fixture wasn’t installed properly and the water was shooting back into the wall and down and flooding into the garage and into the house.

I filed an insurance claim because this is why I have insurance. B wouldn’t have. I know it. Our ceiling had leaked twice and we’ve never filed a claim to fix it. Well, that’s not true, we did once, and he used the money for ??? but not to fix the house. We had the adjuster out and she sent the folks who dry the walls put and since Tuesday we’ve had a dozen fans and three dehumidifiers going and have had to have the heat on 75*F plus a space heater going near the windows downstairs so my energy bill is gonna be AWESOME.

I have a four foot section, floor to ceiling, of drywall and insulation missing in the garage. There’s maybe a two foot by one foot section of garage ceiling missing. Theres a one foot by one foot section cut out in a bedroom behind the tub. The linoleum will need to be replaced in the bathroom. The baseboards will need to be replaced. The plumbing itself ran $250. My deductible is $1961.00 so I’ll be paying for the bulk of these repairs out of pocket and you know the one thing I don’t have because I’ve done stupid things and spent money? Money. Yeah. So I’m stressing.

And what do I do when I’m stressed?

Pick.

My lips are raw. My fingers are raw. My relationships are raw.

And I’m disappointed.

I was supposed to go out for New Year’s Eve with friends to a bar. And I was actually really excited. I haven’t had a New Year’s Eve since before I got married. B didn’t do crowds. He hated the fireworks. He’d never watch them with me. We could see them out front and he’d play video games. He wouldn’t even come out and watch with me. STOP IT. STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF. But bow we’re going to a friend’s house. I... don’t want to. All my friends are married and at least at a bar there will be cheering and drinking and people kissing and people drinking at midnight. A small group of couples? Gee, I’m not going to feel lame or anything.

I don’t want to go. I just don’t.

I know it’s because everything has been going wrong and my depression is kicking in and I’m worried about money and I’m just sprialing out. But I don’t want to go. I think I might go off social media again. I don’t know. I’m just so emotional right now. I’ve been unpacking so much baggage and it’s just getting to me. I thought I was keeping it together better than I was. But I’m not.

Comment #10248572 deleted
Removed by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-12-30 22:03:00 I was upset and dropped an F bomb. Sorry.

re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sat Dec 30, 2017 10:02 PM
I’m on my phone. My computer isn’t even hooked up, when I try to edit it goes all weird so Im just posting again. I just need to talk this out. I’m sobbing in bed right now. I feel so raw.

How dare he?

How dare he use me like that?

Jesus.

I can’t even breathe.

For three years. For three goddamn years. He wanted to dovorce me but manipulated me and used me so he could get stuff.

How freaking dare he!?

Holy shit you guys he used me. He took and took and took from me. I hurt so much. He used me.

He’d guilt me into having sex and I’d do it because I guess so and I’d lay there and just disconnect from it. And he used my body. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t in the mood I “just had to lay there, [he’d] be quick.” I hated him kissing me. I’d pick at my lips until they’d bleed. Big, thick strings of flesh from my mouth, down into the skin below. You can see the scars. Because it meant he wouldn’t kiss me. Not on the mouth. And I could close my eyes and... just lay there. Fortunately I get wet quickly, whether I’m in the mood or not, so it was never painful. Actually, I’ve never had an orgasm that I didn’t cause either with my hands or with a toy. He never got me to orgasm. Ever. I faked it to get it over with. Because eventually I’d get bored and get dry and just want it over. And faking an orgasm would satisfy him if was all determined. Which fortunately wasn’t often. Mostly it was about making him come. My pleasure was nonexistent. So whatever. He’d do oral on me and I always thought women came easier with oral? Maybe he’s bad at it? Because mostly I just wanted him to stop. There again, I’d close my eyes and just... lay there because he’d be watching. And if I wanted to touch myself that felt kind of gross and voyeuristic? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like... it’s like... I don’t know, like I was this thing, this object for his pleasure and I was supposed to act like the girls in porn which is not me at all and it felt... I don’t even know. Like it wasn’t for me, the oral, it was all for him. And I was supposed to put on a show for him to get him off or something? And then it would be my turn. I’d go down on him and I’ve talked about this becore, wven to the last time we had sex which was back in September, he wanted to finger me while I gave him oral. First of all, I hated always having to be naked, I felt very self conscious of my body because he’d just watch. I hated the feeling of him coming in my mouth. I’d slap him on the thigh, bounce out of bed, spit my mouthful out in the sink, swish some water, and get dressed. He’d lay naked on the bed. I hated it.

And he knew Inhated it. And he’d get me to do it. And he’d just as easily have divorced me but he was using me.

That son of a bitch was using me.

My chest hurts so much. I want to rip my heart out and throw it on the floor.

He used me.

Over and over and over again.

He belittled me. He used me. He disrespected me. And I hurt so much right now. My heart hurts so much. I didn’t realize how much he used me.

And I’m picking. And I’m doing my damndest to either start a fight or push Saint M away. AND I DON’T KNOW WHY. But I’m methodically doing it, I can see it, the leftover traces of it but I don’t realize I’m doing it in the moment. So that’s awesome. +sigh+ I canceled my plans for New Years. I am too hurt and angry for an intimate setting. A bar where I can hide in the crowd and not feel alone? Yeah, okay. An intimate setting with my married friends? Let me just slit my wrists now and save everyone from me sobbing drunk in the corner. Because that’s how that’ll go. I’d rather not celebrate at all again this year than be the lone singleton at midnight hating everyone. New Years celebrations can happen some other year. It doesn’t have to be this one. Whatever. I don’t need to be spending money anyway. I don’t have money to spend.

He used me. Since 2014. Probably before. While he was sick and I took care of him and got him through a terrible time and then he openly talks about wanting to divorce me but it’s too much money!? And everyone knew. And I was the loser who didn’t know.

Who was still desperately trying to make things work. And I just glanced back through a diary from that time, yeah. Yeah.

Here’s a brief excerpt:
Sumayah circa 2013 wrote:

Well, I was going to end on a high note but B just called. I told him I've been having a day, that I didn't go paint for my mom, but that I was going to the dishes and the floors. His response? You should have cleaned more if you weren't going to paint for you mom. Not I'm sorry babe. Not I love you. I should have CLEANED MORE. I'M SHIRKING MY DUTIES AS A WIFE BY LETTING THE HOUSE GET DISGUSTING AND NOT CLEANING THIS WEEK. NO SYMPATHY. NO EMPATHY. NO. I NEVER GET OF THAT. NOT FROM HIM. IT'S ALL FREAKING WORK. ALWAYS WORK. ALWAYS.

So yeah. Used me. Continually used me. I was never enough. I did enough. Iwas never good enough. And he used me. He made me feel small and worthless. And it’s really hard not to still feel small and worthless.

I’ve never been enough. Ever. I was just there to be used.

And he used me.

I hurt so, so much. I’m so angry. And I hurt so much. My heart hurts. My heads hurts. I’m going to sleep. I love y’all.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sun Dec 31, 2017 09:05 AM
I woke up and started crying. Like you do. I am so hurt. So, so hurt. Somehow, knowing that he used me was... fine? Well, not fine exactly, but bearable under the pretense that up until this year, he had at least loved me. But finally processing that he didn't love me, hadn't loved me for a long time and chose to use me for his personal gains? This just did a number on me.

Is doing a number on me.

I think maybe that's why I want so badly to feel sexy, to feel wanted. That was a precursor. Those were the initial feelings that illustrated that B hadn't really cared about me in a very long time. That led me down the road to this. To this horrible realization that my husband had wanted to divorce me for years and that I had put up with so much and walked on eggshells for so long and put up with his hurtful behavior and let him control the finances and he was manipulating me and using me for his personal gain. And that he absolutely didn't care about me.

He cared about the house - it was an asset.

It meant money. It meant he could have things.

Getting divorced he was most upset about losing the cats and losing the house.

Not me.

He really doesn't care at all about me.

And I tried so hard even through the divorce to be nice and to be accommodating because I wanted it over. And he just continually hurt me. Every time I stood up for myself, he hurt me. He knew exactly what words to say to go straight to my center and hurt me the worst. And damn if they did. Stick and stones, man, I swear, words hurt a lot. And they do a lot of damage.

I need to stop picking at my lips.

I should go get some coffee.

Early in our marriage I had asked to share the office with him and have my desk in there too. So we did that for a while. Because I wanted to be near him. Eventually he complained that having two computers in the same room made it too hot and I had to leave. He, during the divorce, admitted that he regretted doing that. Well, yeah dumbass. It was one of the many times that he pushed me out of his life, made me feel not important, eliminated me from his space. But maybe, way back then? Maybe that was when he realized he didn't love me. Maybe didn't even like me. But he had a house. And he had a second income. And he had a semi-subservient wife who would cook and clean and let him have sex. (Religion is a horrible thing. We were still practicing JWs at that point so the Bible says the man is the head of the household and welp. Exiting that cult was the best thing I ever did.) And so through all that he paid off his student loans, bought new cars, got game systems, movies, games, all sorts of stuff. And I got whatever he chose to give me. And I made excuses. And I isolated myself from my friends and family. And I hate him so much for it.

I hurt so much.

I'm so tired of crying. I'm tired of hurting. I just hurt so much.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sun Dec 31, 2017 05:11 PM
I just don’t understand. How could anyone be that cruel? Why? How could he be so selfish?

I just don’t understand.

I’m laying in bed sobbing. I hurt violently. I just want to die. I knew getting divorced would be painful and I’ve cried and grieved over what the relationship could have been. Should have been? But this? This is like a long con. This is systematically keeping me depressed so I couldn’t take action so he could continue to use me. WHO DOES THAT!? Who does that? Who does that to someone they’re supposed to love?

I thought... I thought at least he loved me.

I thought at least he cared about me?

And he didn’t. He hadn’t.

I don’t understand. I just don’t understand. I can’t understand why he wpuld do that to me.

He just abused me. Made me feel constantly like I’m not enough. Never good enough. Never contributed enough. And he didn’t even love me. Didn’t care.

I’m glad I’m not alone. Because the thoughts in my head right now are terrible. Like contemplating calling a hotline terrible. I hurt so mich. I don’t know how tp handle it.

He used me. For his personal gain and he didn’t care about what it did to me.

I just want to die.

Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid. My rational brain knows better. I may just cry myself to sleep. I just... who does that to someone? How do they live with themselves? I just don’t understand.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Mon Jan 01, 2018 12:26 AM
Cheers.

Happy freaking New Year.

I stayed home. It snowed. I smiled. I’m not dead. I cried. I haven’t cried in 2018 yet. I was feeling alright and now? Less alright. Not a danger to myself or anything, just not particularly alright. I should go to bed.

I should shower. I won’t.

I have to drip the faucets.

Love y’all.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Mon Jan 01, 2018 10:47 AM
Okay my friends, do my a favor? Kinda embarrassing, definitely not your responsibility but I’m just asking for help here. If you see me going down that sort of shit hole above, send me a text or pm me or something and be like “Babe, I know you’re dealing with a lot, have you taken your Lexapro today?” Because I was so upset and distraught that I didn’t take it for almost three days. Which is why yesterday night I was feeling suicidal and legitimately ready to call a hotline if a friend hadn’t seen my desperate plea and reached to me. I hadn’t taken my meds.

So, again, it’s not your responsibility to make sure I take my antidepressant nightly, but the emotional hit I was dealing with just threw everything off and I didn’t realize I wasn’t taking it, I was so overwhelmed I just forgot. Last night i saw it on the bathroom counter and went OH NO. And I immediately took one and I feel so much more balanced this morning. I’m still hurt, I’m still angry, I still need to make an appointment with a therapist. I don’t want to die. I’m not weeping uncontrollably.

So if you see me doing this, just a gentle reminder would be appreciated because I literally forgot and I don’t like getting to the point where I’m considering death as a viable option. Because it one hundred percent isn’t and it isn’t what I want and thankfully my brain is rational enough to know not to go along with the emotional roller coaster. Because that’s not okay. Those thoughts are not okay. I’m usually really responsible about taking my meds everynight before bed, but this just hit me HARD. And not taking my meds made it so. much. harder. So please, just say “Hey, girl, you okay? You up on your meds? Ilu.” That’s it. Just a reminder. All right. Love y’all. 💙
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Tue Jan 02, 2018 12:19 AM
So I feel this is pretty important to say, but I came out to K the other day. In the midst of all of this. I was just having an outpouring of words, everywhere. And I wound up texting her and talking to her for a long time and eventually told her. So yeah.

Keep in mind she has gone back to being a JW after having been divorced from an abusive relationship herself. So even though she's my ride or die, there's still a lingering feeling of doubt around certain things. Like you know, hey K, I'd like to sleep with women.
Spoiler: Show
Me: I know this goes against everything JW related, so be a little forgiving here, but I sincerely want to go out and just get laid. Safely, consensually. But maybe not remember a name in the morning. Just because B has been my only and I kinda want to make it so that I'm not his? Like he still holds claim over me.

K: I understand the feeling completely. Again, that's called a rebound guy and the feeling you have is why so many people have one.
K: I want one too. Trust me. I know the feeling.

Me: Also, while we're on disapproving JW things, I'm totally bi. You probably know that, or have guessed, or had suspicions. But yeah, I'd happily go home with a guy or woman. Don't care. Just want someone to find me hot and want to get me naked.
Me: That's also a realization I've slowly come to over the past few years and welp, it explains a lot.

K: Huh. Didn't guess.

Me: :/

K: It doesn't matter to me. I love you the same as always.

AAAA nd cue the waterworks. I mean, I was already crying but oh man. I turned into Alice filling the Pool of Tears. So, hey, nothing like having your bestie at your back. <3

We talked more and I mentioned that talking to mom about it would have been a quick trip to the elders, that how do you deal with feelings you are told are patently wrong? And she admitted that you don't deal with them, you bury them deep. So I told her about this incident. I was 13? 14? And I had been drawing human bodies, just torsos. (I suck at heads and fingers and toes.) And the torso was a nude female torso with delineation of breasts and nipples and a general V shape for the vaginal area. I had seen myself naked. I had seen other girls naked. I had never seen a dude naked. So I was drawing what I knew? Also boobs were hot. The female was pretty fascinating and frankly, even now when I draw, I basically draw a "naked" person first and then dress them from under layers up to get the proportions correct. I erase a lot. And then I trace over the final image to get the unsullied finished picture. But she had found that drawing, basic though it was, and confronted me about it. Because confronting your young teenage daughter who already doesn't talk about boys (or girls) about a naked sketch she drew is DEFINITELY going to get her to open up.

I didn't talk about having crushes on boys because I didn't want to get teased. I didn't want to deal with mom knowing. And now? Now I hadn't even fully realized I liked girls, but there it is, and I was figuring it out on my own, and it was just done. All of it. No boys. No girls. Nobody. So yeah, if I had ever gone to my mom and said, "Hey mom, I think I have a crush on a girl." I would have been yanked into the backroom (that's the scary principal's office of the church) and had to deal with several elders - grownass men - questioning me about my burgeoning sexuality and reading me scriptures about why it's wrong and OH HELL NO. NO NO NO. That was just absolutely not going to happen.

K's response? "Your mom definitely wasn't the most nurturing of people... hell, even I felt judged by her just by her being in the room with me. I can't imagine living with that."

That's the typical response people give after meeting my mom. They're like, oh, well, a lot more makes sense now. Also, can I help? How are you okay?

Like we weren't abused growing up, but I'm pretty sure my mom is mentally unstable. HIIII !!! Double whammy, yeah! Dad's side of the family has depression and bipolar, with multiple family member dying of suicide. There weren't many of us to start with and mental illness took a chunk of those that did come around.

I was about to say that I thought maybe my mom had Borderline Personality Disorder but you guys...

Maybe I do?

Like, maybe this isn't just depression? I'm reading this and I felt light headed because I literally just paled at the info on the screen.
NIMH: www.nimh.nih.gov . . . wrote:


Efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment, such as rapidly initiating intimate (physical or emotional) relationships or cutting off communication with someone in anticipation of being abandoned
A pattern of intense and unstable relationships with family, friends, and loved ones, often swinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation)
Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self
Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as spending sprees, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating. Please note: If these behaviors occur primarily during a period of elevated mood or energy, they may be signs of a mood disorder - not borderline personality disorder
Self-harming behavior, such as cutting
Recurring thoughts of suicidal behaviors or threats
Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a few hours to a few days
Chronic feelings of emptiness
Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger
Difficulty trusting, which is sometimes accompanied by irrational fear of other people's intentions
Feelings of dissociation, such as feeling cut off from oneself, seeing oneself from outside one's body, or feelings of unreality

Clearly this isn't something I should armchair diagnose, but if that is my problem, (and my mom's) it makes A LOT of sense. And is way scarier than just "depression." Also the combo of meds I'm on - Lexapro and Topamax - work together to stabilize my mood and balance me out. Both of them. The topiramate is anti-seizure drug, so it works to reduce hostile behavior, while the Lexapro deals with the depression, hostility, and anger.

I feel so different on these pills. Like night and day difference. Everything is even. No highs or lows. Right. I'm making an appointment tomorrow. No use speculating on something that I might not even have. Night, y'all.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Wed Jan 03, 2018 11:07 AM
My first therapy appointment is in one hour.

Guys.

Say a little prayer to whatever deity you believe in or send me some positive thoughts because I'm sincerely anxious. Nauseated. I want to cry. I want to throw up. I know I need this. I know I want this. But I'm so afraid of opening this door. Of actually taking this step. Of really confronting my demons.

I'm scared shitless. No lie.

I'll let you know how it goes.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By MarlaSingermember has saluted, click to view salute photosPremium member
On Wed Jan 03, 2018 02:30 PM
Gurrrrl, you got this.

So, fun story - When I went to therapy last year to finally deal with my lifelong anxiety issues, I was literally on the verge of a panic attack for the entire first session. Sweating, heart racing, short of breath, nauseous, the whole nine yards. I ended up pulling out my fidget cube and fidgeting the crap out of it just so I didn't completely lose it. You are not alone. It's a scary thing to show someone else all the messed up stuff inside of you. Most of us spend so much time and energy keeping all of that stuff hidden, so to put it out there for someone else to look at it goes against every instinct we have.

Picking up the phone to make an appointment is a huge hurdle, and many, many people never make it that far. So congratulate yourself for making the appointment, for showing up at the appointed time and place, for walking through the door, all of it. You're doing so well just by taking the first steps, and I'm proud of you.

~Jonelle
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Fri Jan 05, 2018 01:59 AM
Okay. I'll get to my therapy appointment in a minute and Jonelle I love you and thank you.

First.

Okay. I sent B a text asking him to cash the last $300 check I owe him. At this point I can't remember what I've told y'all and what I haven't. I've been crying so much lately about so many things... but anyway, when we separated our accounts back in September, he, without asking me first, took out a $3000 advance from his credit card and deposited it into our joint account. When he took half the money out, it was there as a buffer for bills. However, he later informed me I was expected to pay back the $1500 plus fees of $60. Because he only loves money. So I paid him $360 in September, and $300 in October, $300 in November, $300 in December, and I have the money in my account right now to finish this, so I had him deposit the $300 check for January. And now he's fully paid off.

I wish I could have said, no, I didn't agree to this. I'm not paying you back.

But... I didn't.

I then deleted our text thread completely from my phone.

I then blocked him.

And then I went into the contacts and I completely deleted him from my phone altogether.

It doesn't feel as triumphant as I thought it would. It feels... sad.

And that was when the panic set in. The feeling that I wasn't allowed to it. That I was making a mistake. What if he needed to contact me? I'm redirecting his mail, but what if he calls to pick it up? What if he got upset?

I could hear him. I could hear him in my brain. The high pitched whine at the front as the volume raised, "Why did YOU BLOCK ME? You're just trying to hurt me. You didn't have to do that. You just wanted me to hurt. We both know that wasn't fair of you. I haven't done anything to deserve being blocked." And then he'd go off on how I've used him, how I never pulled my weight, how I was happy to let him work himself to death while I played at teaching dance. How it's my fault.

And my heart started racing. And I immediately got a headache and I felt like we had had this fight. That this was something that had had happened even though it hadn't. I felt exhausted and emotional. All because I blocked his number and deleted him from my phone.

Birdy's "People Help the People" played on Pandora at the office and I started crying. I couldn't help it. That line, "behind the tears, inside the lies/a thousand slowly dying sunsets" oh god. "And if you're homesick, give me your hand and I'll hold it" tears just started falling down my face. I'm listening to it now and crying.


Why is he still hurting me?

Why I am letting him hurt me without ever saying a word?

I'm so pathetic.

Why do I hurt so much?

Okay, so therapy. The therapist I chose is a 30 year Licensed Clinical Social Worker who specializes in depression and anxiety disorders, including post-traumatic stress disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder as well as behavioral medicine and working with sexual behavior problems in children and adults. So, I mean, that sort of covers all my bases right? Depression, anxiety, the self-harm (picking and disordered eating), the unhealthy sex life, just everything. She uses ACT (acceptance and commitment therapy) and I guess that sounds good? I mean, I don't really know what to think of it?
Image hotlink - 'http://www.contemporarypsychotherapy.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/ACT-image3.png'
But uh, I think it looks about like the right diagnosis tool?
Image hotlink - 'https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/b5/62/fdb5626d20cf2109058b8b323bfc97c5.jpg'
And this will be my side of it? One of the things she said is learning that thoughts don't have to be true statements, that just because I have a thought, doesn't mean it's gospel truth, you know? And honestly, that sounds really helpful. Because let's be really real shall we? I get a thought and I cling to it and believe it whether it has any basis in reality. And that is damaging.

This diary is full of damaging thoughts.

And I don't know how to dismiss that thought that I'm not not worthy of attention or affection as false. Once that fault bubbles up through the tar pit in my brain, the sticky bubble bursts and covers everything and just coats it in that lack of belief.

Because here's what sucks. I'm at work crying and hurting over an imagined fight, an event that hasn't actually happened but in my head feels real, and the emotional toll it's taken on me feels real. And I don't know how to make that thought, that imagined fight not realize in my brain. I don't know how to let it go and just not hurt me. And the cute guy on Bumble? Well I didn't message him at all yesterday, because truth be told, he's cute but I'm not emotionally invested in him. I'm not planning on being emotionally invested, my emotions are already plenty invested, thanks. So whatever. I'm not going to pursue too hard. This is for fun and kicks. He messaged me today. "Hey beautiful!! How's your day!?" I mean.... That should have just made my day right? But how do I disengage my brain from an imagined, awful fight with my ex to flirt with a cute, real guy?

I matched with a girl. I couldn't flirt with her either. I just was not on my A game and my A game is more like a C-. I don't expect the pretty blonde to message me back. She was being flirty but I was failing hard. Good job.

But yeah.

Anyway. Therapy. Let me focus. I'm just... a mess.

Within the first 20 minutes or so, my therapist was like, well B sounds like quite the narcissist. I'd recommend you read some books on narcissistic spouses just to identify that what you're feeling is normal and that you aren't alone. And I looked on Amazon and promptly got overwhelmed at the long list of titles. I asked for recommendations and got some but my library didn't have any of those titles, so I may just buy one at half-price books.

My next appointment is Wednesday. We'll see how it goes.

All right lovelies, it's 3am and I need to shower and sleep a little. Good night.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance (karma: 1)
By TheMidlakeMusemember has saluted, click to view salute photosPremium member
On Fri Jan 05, 2018 08:25 AM
Edited by TheMidlakeMuse (78507) on 2018-01-05 08:27:18
Regarding B...when you describe it that way, I'm sensing a lot of fear. Why are you scared? Because...he's scary. He may not have raised a hand to you, but he can hurt you. "I should feel" is irrelevant. You feel what you feel. And expecting yourself to undo all of that fear and pain with the stroke of a pen when the divorce is final is really unkind and unfair to yourself. Same with breaking destructive thought patterns. Even just being mindful enough to tell yourself "hey, this isn't true" even if you can't break through those thoughts takes practice. MINDFULNESS IS HARD ugh. It took years to develop to where you are. It's not gonna take one (or five, or ten) sessions to undo it, and you are not a failure or being a difficult client when it takes time to change.

And if you need to take a break from thinking about dating...take the break. There will still be hot people there when you're actually emotionally ready to sleep with 'em.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance (karma: 1)
By MarlaSingermember has saluted, click to view salute photosPremium member
On Fri Jan 05, 2018 10:44 AM
Hey, ACT really helped me get through some stuff last year, and I think one of the things that helped me the most was a book (recommended by my therapist) called The Happiness Trap. I actually bought both the illustrated version and the "regular" version. The illustrated version reads sort of like a graphic novel, and I found it SUPER helpful as a means of grasping the concepts. I also used the Headspace app for a while to help me practice mindfulness, but if you're not into meditation, it may not be your cup of tea.

Your imagined argument with B reminded me of "Someone That I Used To Know" by Gotye. For some reason I have always interpreted that song as being about a super entitled a-hole who just REFUSES TO UNDERSTAND that his partner is 100% done with all of his crap, and somehow paints himself as the victim because she finally got up the courage to completely cut ties with him. So I guess that makes you Kimbra! I give you full permission to think of yourself as Kimbra from here on out. :)
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sun Jan 07, 2018 04:07 PM
Okay so last night I got blackout drunk because either I drink in moderation and everything is fine or I way cross the limit and things go real downhill real fast.

Let me start with a disclaimer.

I know I’ve talked about getting wasted before, and I know y’all have been concerned about my drinking. But here’s the deal. I don’t do drugs, I don’t smoke, I don’t have any other vices. I’ll drink a beer or two occasionally during the week, maybe have a few on the weekends. If there’s no booze in the house then there’s no booze in the house. +shrug+ I’m as likely to grab a Topo-Chico - the lime ones are really good. But anyway, so the times that I do choose to get wasted I tend to write about because they are fairly unusual. I don’t get blackout drunk on even a semi-regular basis. Yeah, it’s happened more often in the past 6 months, but to be fair I had a past 6 months so yeah.

Anyway. Last night I was playing Cards Against Humanity online with my friends. And I drank a bottle of red wine in approximately an hour. It was really good wine. I was fine. I was fine. I was fine. I opened a second bottle of wine. I was fine. I blacked out.

Then Saint M called.

My phone shows that I missed her first call.

She called back.

This is important because she doesn’t call anyone. Ever. She hates the phone. She hates talking on the phone with a passion.

And she called me because she was worried. She was that worried that she actually called me. She talked to me for three and half hours.

I... don’t remember most of it. I know I threw up - projectile. I still haven’t cleaned that up. All over the toilet, the floor, the wall. Then I threw up again. And I’m pretty sure she heard all that. I remember crying a lot and laying on the floor. I remember her telling me to drink water. I did. I remember apologizing. But that’s basically it. I have no idea what we talked about for most of the three and a half hours.

I remember some of the end of it. But yeah. And I feel bad. I know she’s been dealing with a lot. Her plate is quite full. And she spent three and a half hours talking to me on the phone because she’s my friend and she loves me and wanted to make sure I was alright. And I have no memory of any of it.

And I love her too. We didn’t start off as best friends, I know in the course of my diary it seems like I just mentioned her out of the blue one day. But it didn’t happen like that. We’d been friends for years before we really connected. But when we did, our friendship just solidified, all those years we had been friends just came together. And she’s seen me through some of my worst moments. Last night being no exception. I can only assume, given I don’t remember it. But three and a half hours implies that yes, yes last night was bad.

Anyway.

I’m okay today. Embarrassed. Embarrassed that I don’t remember. Embarrassed that my friend had to do something she hates because she was worried about me. Embarrassed that I let myself get drunk. Embarrassed that even though she’s my best friend, I don’t know how to thank her for looking out for me. Embarrassed.

Okay, so I’m going to go clean up my mess and maybe make a pie. And drink more coffee. I love you all.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Sun Jan 07, 2018 09:32 PM
Bathroom got sanitized. Thought y'all should know.

I don't know why but it really bothers me that I was crying on the bathroom floor. And I have no memory of it other than that I was crying.

I was having fun. I was spending time with people I genuinely care about and we were laughing and having fun. And then I don't know. I threw up and I was crying on the bathroom floor. Maybe I was crying because I threw up? Was I talking about B? Why did I get that upset? I wish I knew but then again, I sort of don't?

I'm not worried about saying something to Saint M, she's my best friend, I tell her almost everything. I don't really have any deep, dark confessions or secrets. She knows how bad my relationship with B was, I've been more than explicit with her about things. But the sheer fact that I don't know why I was that upset or hurt... was it more of the same? The fact that he didn't love me and used me? Something else? I don't know. And if it was something else, I'm both afraid to ask what it was and curious because starting therapy, I know some deep emotions are going to surface, and if last night was about the stuff I've been processing then fine, but if something else came out, I kinda want to know. But I also don't want to know, because if I've kept it locked in my subconscious this long that only blackout drunk Suma can talk about it, then maybe it needs to stay buried for a while longer until I process the shit that's already surfaced. If I have some new anger, some new hurt, I don't know if I can deal with it right now. B has already cost me so much, is costing me so much. And I hurt so much. I just don't know.

Reading about narcissists has put me in a very mentally fragile place.

Gaslighting.

It's painful to read the articles, the experiences. Like I have to steel myself mentally and sort of build a barrier that it's okay first because it's brutal to read. I've never been triggered before, but I assume this is what folx mean. Where just reading words on a page make you anxious and tense and upset? Where you see too much of yourself in the situation and it becomes much too real and feelings flood in that you aren't prepared for?

I was expected an academic read. Not a suckerpunch. And so far, all the recommended books, even just read excerpts has been a barrage of surprise hits I wasn't prepared for. Who knows. Maybe that's what I crying about?

Okay, it's time for bed. I love you all.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Tue Jan 09, 2018 10:56 AM
Hey... so I'm going to refresh y'all's memory of an event that happened.

Sumayah on January 26, 2017 wrote:

Also, drove 6.5 hrs from Fort Stockton in west Texas to Tucson, Arizona. B drove a short leg at the front and he's driving a short leg to Yuma. Only 2 more hours in the car (give or take). Then tomorrow, across the border, get my cavities dealt with, back to Yuma to sleep, the Saturday B gets the last of his work done and we start the driving process all the way back home.

Excuse me while I go cry in a corner.

For the record, I-10 is one of the most boring stretches of cross-country road I've had the misfortune of cruise-controlling my way down.

Oh look, land that goes on and on into the horizon, oh look plateaus to the south. Oh look a wind farm. Oh look yucca plants. Oh look rocks. Oh look cactus. Oh look more highway. It's the worst.

That said, there were pretty moments. Some lovely scenery and some poetic vistas. But even that starts to wear thin when you've been trapped in a car for hours.

Sumayah on January 27, 2017 wrote:

Also, I am not a sleep anywhere person. I am so exhausted at this point that I just started crying.

Okay, so I had 7 cavities filled today. The lower left is achy. The whole right side feels great. I've got one on upper left and three on my upper front teeth. Those will be dealt with tomorrow and then we start the epic drive back to Texas. Sunday night can't get here soon enough.

Sumayah on January 29, 2017 wrote:

Guys. That was a cluster****. We made a reservation for the night on Expedia. Get to the hotel. Their computer system is down. B calls Expedia. Then Expedia faxes the wrong amount for the room, so their card is declined. The wrong amount by 0.01¢. But we don't know this yet. We're just rudely informed that they can't give us the room.

Meanwhile, angry dog lady comes in looking for towels. Bitchy, angry lady. Hostile, bitchy, angry lady. Staff is already annoyed because of us showing up and the declined card. Hostile, bitchy, argumentative, angry lady makes staff more upset.

B calls Expedia again. They figure out the problem. Hotel charges one penny less that the amount they sent over. Voila, we are now in a room. But this is after 4 hrs at the dentist in Mexico, 90 mins to cross the border, and 7-8 hours of driving. We've been up since 6:00am. Seriously? We'll be up by 6ish and on the road for home. Only 9-10 more hours to go. *sigh*

Sumayah on January 29, 2017 wrote:

11 cavities filled for $550. She also threw in a tooth cleaning. I say 11 because the doctor counts each filling individually. My local dentist had me at 6, but they were almost all multiside, so it evens out about the same in the end. In the states it would have been well over twice that.

We all remember that hellscape of a trip? Where I almost didn't sleep the entire time, gave B a migraine in the car from singing too loudly to the radio because WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO TRAPPED IN A CAR FOR HOURS ON END WITH SOMEONE YOU CAN BARELY STAND?

WELL. GUESS. WHAT?

GUESS WHO STILL HAS ABOUT A GRAND OF DENTAL WORK IN CAVITIES TO FILL BECAUSE ALL 6 CAVITIES ARE STILL THERE?

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW!?

SO BASICALLY THE DENTIST IN MEXICO DRILLED HOLES AND FILLED HEALTHY TEETH AND CHARGED ME HALF A GRAND FOR IT AND I STILL HAVE ROTTING FREAKING TEETH IN MY HEAD AND I'M NOT EVEN JOKING.

THE MONEY FOR THAT TRIP - THE GAS, THE SHITTY MOTELS, THE ACTUAL DENTAL WORK FOR BOTH OF US - WAS MONEY TAKEN FROM THE LOAN ON THE HOUSE. MONEY I AM PAYING BACK BY MYSELF.

AND ALL MY CAVITIES ARE STILL THERE.

I CAN'T RIGHT NOW.

That money could have been used for replacing the carpets. It could have been used to ACTUALLY FIX MY TEETH AT THE DENTIST IN TOWN THE WAY I WANTED TO.

I cannot believe this right now.

I'm livid.

I want to text B and be like BY THE ASSHOLE REMEMBER THAT HORRIBLE TRIP TO MEXICO WELL GUESS WHAT? I HOPE ALL YOUR TEETH FALL OUT OF YOUR FACE.

So yeah. That's a thing that happened. On the plus side, my teeth are clean and I have appointments scheduled for a 6 month cleaning and to get the cavities actually filled. So yeah.

Christ on a bike.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Elfiemember has saluted, click to view salute photosPremium member
On Wed Jan 10, 2018 04:00 PM
"And this will be my side of it? One of the things she said is learning that thoughts don't have to be true statements, that just because I have a thought, doesn't mean it's gospel truth, you know? And honestly, that sounds really helpful. Because let's be really real shall we? I get a thought and I cling to it and believe it whether it has any basis in reality. And that is damaging.

This diary is full of damaging thoughts.

And I don't know how to dismiss that thought that I'm not not worthy of attention or affection as false. Once that fault bubbles up through the tar pit in my brain, the sticky bubble bursts and covers everything and just coats it in that lack of belief."

The "just a thought" argue back thing never really helped me either. It's not a thought for me it's a feeling. I often know some of that bad stuff is crazy and it's frustrating how knowing that doesn't stop you from falling into the pit of crazy. It feels like just trying not to feel what you feel and that doesn't work. Distracting, some grounding exercises (count things around you, feel surfaces like squishy toys is some of the stuff I do. Different stuff works for different people. Just wanted you to know you're not alone in this.

About possibility of BPD: personally being diagnosed with Bipolar type two and my therapists have thought I have BPD too was a relief in allowing me to try to accept it as a part of me. I still struggle a lot with a guilt of not being able to get better, but sometimes it helps to try to remember that there's a reason for that. Deep down I've always known there's something deeper wrong with me than just a " rough time that makes me really low" kind of just depression.

B sounds completely like a narsissit. They tend to instinctly gravitate towards sensitive people and people with low self esteem are especially easy victims. www.psychologytoday.com . . .
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Wed Jan 10, 2018 04:20 PM
Second therapy session today is done.

I have homework. Like, let's get real homework. And my therapist does EMDR work so I may be doing that in the future. At this point it's just a rehashing of stuff y'all already know to catch her up. No big revelations, but I can hear the anger in my voice.

I say no big revelations, but I did ask about this. How do you separate emotions and recognize emotions without falling into apathy? She said I might have an easier time of it since I come a place of logical brain verses emotional brain. I'm not necessarily swept away on every emotion that takes me. And I can do that, I do that, just sometimes emotions are overwhelming right now - too loud.

I can have an irrational and for all intents and purposes, maybe wrong?, emotion and recognize that I'm having it and not have it diminish the gut punch the emotion holds, but rationally understand the results of acting on that emotion. I can recognize that the emotion I feel is a direct result of my vulnerability. And because of all that, my logical side knows not to give into the emotional side, despite the emotional side being loud and unruly and maybe desperate to be heard. And my emotions are desperate to be heard. They want their say. They are happy to damn the consequences and charge in despite my logical side having evidence to the contrary that they're ill-spent and misplaced. So right now there's a push and pull or emotional desire and reasonable action in my life.

For instance. As much as my emotions were screaming at me to text or call B and yell at him about my teeth and blame him and just have that desperate emotional outlet, but rational brain took over and said, no, this is wrong and you're hurt and this isn't how to deal with it. And if he were a person I still had a relationship with, that rational side is my saving grace. Because I do have the ability to separate my emotions from my overview of the situation and I can sit down and discuss emotionally difficult things as an adult. He just never would. He'd presume my response and jump to "I hate him" and just shut down. If he had ever bothered to talk to me about difficult subjects - real problems - he would have been surprised. I'm a reasonable and rational person, I'm emotional fragile sure, but I can have a hard conversations.

In discussing EMDR, I found out that REM sleep should take up 2 to 3 hours of your sleep a night. I don't. I get maybe just over an hour of REM. So maybe doing EMDR will help unblock some of the things that keep me from getting rest. It's not hypnosis, but I keep thinking about Tanis. XD

You're conscious but it uses similar rapid eye movement to heal from trauma. Here ya go: www.emdr.com . . .

I'll let y'all know how the homework goes. I'm not really sure what to say about it yet, but it's going to require some honesty I'm not sure I'm ready to confront.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Wed Jan 10, 2018 08:17 PM
I was thinking about this, fights with B.

He was so afraid to ask me about anything, that I’d disagree with him, that I’d have an opinion that he’d just DO THINGS without consulting me. Because he just assumed I’d be a typical overreactionary, stereotypical woman. And when we had problems he’d talk over me. He’d interrupt me constantly.

And then he’d shut down.

Shut me out.

Literally.

And I have a hard time, I realize with giving time and space now. It feels... personal? I logically know it isn’t. But emotionally my feelings get hurt. And saying that sounds stupid and childish. But they do. Because even though space and time is a natural and normal reaction for people, it was used as an attack against me. Another way to hurt me. And in a situation where someone requests time and space, I try to respect that but it’s literally the hardest thing for me.

I’m having to separate out my damaged emotional response from B, his literal closing and locking his office door, ignoring my input altogether and effectively silencing my voice with a very normal human reaction to solitude and quiet and the need to process and internalize. I do it myself. I need that solitude and yet it is a struggle to give it. It’s so frustrating.

Again, there’s a huge disconnect between my logical and emotion sides. My emotions are reacting to past trauma but my brain understands completely why it shouldn’t be. It’s so stupid. And I feel stupid for knowing and feeling two disparate things.

Okay, so this is how fights with B went. I’ve sort of danced around it without actually explaining anything. Let me get you in my headspace.

Me: Hey... did you do XYZ?
B: Yeah.
Me: You never mentioned anything about it?
B: Well you’d just get up upset and fight with me and my nerves just can’t take that negativity.
Me: (As if proving his point) Not necessarily. But you should have talked to me about XYZ before just doing it. I get to have a say in our marriage too.
B: No. You just want to argue. You always just want to argue. You’re just trying to make me have a heart attack before I’m 40.
Me: No B I’m not but...
B: NO YOU ARE. YOU KNOW MY NERVES CAN’T TAKE THIS. I CAN’T HANDLE CONSTANTLY ARGUING WITH YOU.
Me: If you’d stop assuming you know how I’d react...
B: YOU REACT THE SAME WAY! YOU ALWAYS FIGHT. YOU’RE ALWAYS NEGATIVE.
Me: That’s not...
B: YES IT IS!!!!!! YOU CAN NEVER JUST DO IT MY WAY!
Me: But I...
B LOOK I NEED TO BE LEFT ALONE. WE’RE DONE TALKING.
Me: But I haven’t...
B: GET OUT OF MY OFFICE.
Me: But..
B: GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUUUUTTTTTT!!!!!!!
Me: I HAVEN’T EVEN SAID ANYTHING YET.
B: I CAN’T DEAL WITH YOU. I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN TODAY. GET OUT OF MY OFFICE NOW!!! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!!!!!!

And I’d leave and he’d shut the door, lock it, and bar it - he’d put his workout bench under the doorknob because I broke it down one time when he sick and depressed and I sincerely thought he was unhenged and suicidal and going to do something. So he started barring the door after that. By the way, he blames me for “physical abuse” for physically restraining him from leaving the house and driving after one of those fights when he was very sick. For a period of a year I actively was worried he was going to kill himself. He wouldn’t be home when he was supposed to and I’d be genuinely worried I’d get a call from the police telling me he was dead somewhere. I would come home from work and he’d be texting horrible things and I’d come in the house and not know whether he’d be alive or dead. So yeah, I physically reatrained him from leaving because I was genuinely afraid he’d lose control of his car. I broke the door down because I was sincerely worried he was going to be dead if I didn’t intervene. And being depressed and suicidal myself at the time, trust me, I knew the signs.

Anyway.

So now, I have this messed up emotional reaction. And it’s ridiculous. And I hate it. It’s one more way that he has influenced me that I need to fix. Outwardly I put on a great show of maintaining normal everything but internally I want to cry. Stupid. And this is all apropos of nothing, just realizations? Like talking with my therapist, I sort of don’t really immediately latch onto things but they percolate and yeah. This is just sort of a realization I had based on talking about how everything was always about him. About how narcissists use different means of getting their way and his was approval and withholding. That was how he controlled me.

So.

Oh and the look on my therapist’s face today was surprising. I told her about the loan, the fact that B had wanted to divorce me years ago, had been using me. She looked horrified. Like, actually horrified.

I wonder if I’ll dream more? I wonder if I’ll remember dreaming? I’m interested to try the EMDR, I wonder if I’ll dream more...

Also no lie. Everytime I hear or see EMDR I think EDM and I’m like so I just need more Deadmau5 and Major Lazer and the Chainsmokers in my life? Eh... well I guess so. I always did want to be in rave scene so...

All right beauties. I love you.
re: I constantly recommend a little bit of disdain, a little bit of resistance
By Sumayah
On Thu Jan 11, 2018 12:15 PM
Elfie wrote:

The "just a thought" argue back thing never really helped me either. It's not a thought for me it's a feeling. I often know some of that bad stuff is crazy and it's frustrating how knowing that doesn't stop you from falling into the pit of crazy. It feels like just trying not to feel what you feel and that doesn't work. Distracting, some grounding exercises (count things around you, feel surfaces like squishy toys is some of the stuff I do. Different stuff works for different people. Just wanted you to know you're not alone in this.

I'm in this weird place where I have both total disconnect from my feelings and can logically view them from a distance and assess them and understand that my feeling don't necessitate a reaction. But then on the flip side, I am completely emotional with my logical brain banging on the windows while I dissolve into a complete meltdown of fury and sound. It's either one or the other. I am either a completely emotional creature incapable of stopping the downward spiral my emotions drag my down or I'm cold and collected and holding my emotions in a pretty bird cage by an open window just daring them to look outside. I feel like two separate people right now. Emotional Sumayah and Logical Sumayah and I don't know how to blend the two into a functional person.

Elfie wrote:

About possibility of BPD: personally being diagnosed with Bipolar type two and my therapists have thought I have BPD too was a relief in allowing me to try to accept it as a part of me. I still struggle a lot with a guilt of not being able to get better, but sometimes it helps to try to remember that there's a reason for that. Deep down I've always known there's something deeper wrong with me than just a "rough time that makes me really low" kind of just depression.

Once I get deeper into my sessions and my therapist gets to know me better, I'm going to bring it up. Because I feel it's definitely worth a discussion. But if the med combination I'm already on is a proven fix and when I take my meds I'm stable... I mean... it seems likely. But here again, I'm not going to diagnose myself because there is nothing good in that. But there is no harm in research and learning more and asking questions when an established history has been made. Because if that's what I am, then that's a diagnosis I want to be prepared for, not something I want to be blindsided with. I also think I need to look into bipolar because I do have family history of that. Better to have knowledge and information that blindly walk into a situation unprepared.

Elfie wrote:

B sounds completely like a narsissit. They tend to instinctly gravitate towards sensitive people and people with low self esteem are especially easy victims. www.psychologytoday.com . . .

What's interesting is I was a decisive, opinionated person when he met me. I remember him saying that it was something he liked about me. But in the end it wasn't. It was actually a problem between us. He claimed he never wanted to be like his mother and it's exactly who he became. The she treated him was how he ended up treating me. And now I'm trying to get out of the cycle. Either of staying in a victims role or taking on the abusive traits as he did. I'm afraid of both, honestly. I'm afraid of who I am or could be and I want to be a whole, healthy person so much. All this stuff scares me more than y'all know. I may seem very blase about it, very matter of fact, but I'm doing it because I'm so scared that if I don't I'll shut down.

I realized that my relationship was killing me. Would have killed me. Maybe not right away, but if I had stayed with him, I would have driven my car into an overpass. A year or two from now? There's a scenario where I can guarantee it would have happened, but I refuse to predict such a bleak future and besides, my actions already changed everything so that outcome can never happen anyway. +shakes head+

Anyway.

But I'm not brave for seeking help. I'm anything but brave. I'm frightened. I don't know what to do. For the first time I'm looking at all the broken pieces of my life and I honestly have no idea how to even begin putting myself together. In the past, when I've broken, the fragments are there and you can pick them up and glue together, make them fit, tape them over, decorate the holes by weaving yarn in them and throwing glitter in the glue. And then even the rough edges and cracks and parts that don't sit right are still beautiful and... me. Now? Now I'm looking at the floor and it's silt and gravel and sharp shards and debris and tiny pieces of myself intermixed. I don't even know where to start. Usually there's obvious pieces and this time nothing is clear or obvious and it's just this mess. So I'm getting help because I don't know what else to do and everything just sort of happened all at once. I feel helpless right now.

Okay.

Well, good news. My friend Y is going with me to Star Wars on Saturday! Yay!! Also, do any of y'all watch Say Yes To The Dress? My friend A is going to be on it as a bridal party for one of her cancer patients on Saturday. EEEE ! Y'all should watch. :D
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