Drugs Are a Good Enough Excuse

 Under the influence of drugs that you don't usually take, and not under the influence of the ones that you do can change your behavior. 

In some cases, it can reveal underlying feelings, but in others, it can mask the big ones up top that still exist. 

It explains why I got hurt well enough for me to forgive, completely. Just putting this in here for continuity, in case someone reads this. Wintle and I talked it out. I'm actually coming to terms with the second girlfriend, because even knowing that he's going on a trip with her doesn't feel like someone is physically squeezing my heart. He used the kind of phrases that made me feel validated. He told me that he discusses me with her, and she knows that I'm there, and that I'm a "keeper".

So that's not my problem, today.

Today my biggest problem is my body. My stomach feels like everything I've ever eaten has turned into a liquid at a temperature too high to be comfortable, and I am too handicapped to use a toilet (I cannot afford enough help to get me to a bedside commode, it would take two people being here 24/7, because who knows when you'll get a stomach ache?). So I'm filthy. I will be cleaned up soon, I can afford *some* help. That will make some of me feel better, but my other problem is beyond help. 

I fell and hurt my left leg. It's healing, but there's so much swelling. It feels like my pants are too painfully tight on my legs, but I'm not wearing any pants. 

Getting In to the Jealousy Issues

 I used to believe that our love was strong enough that it could withstand anything, even if you opened your heart to more people. None of those people would ever be me. 

None of those people would ever have the history that we have. 

They would have their own connection with you, but they wouldn't have *our* connection. 

But today you forgot that we scheduled a phone call. Forgot. It's been more than a week since we've had a good face-to-face chat, and I was really looking forward to it. You weren't excited enough about it to remember that we'd even made the plans. 

*You* chose the day. If you were considering letting the wind and your date take you where it may, you could have chosen a different day. But you didn't. Planning a date is a promise. Not being available for it without a tangible reason is an insult. You weren't just late, you went radio silence. That's an insult. 

You've never, ever treated me like this, even when you were married to someone else, and I was a secret. 

Now, I'm afraid that our connection got severed, but the cut was so far away that I didn't get to see when it happened. 

The Litany of Sadness Continues

 I don't feel "right". My heartbeat feels off, I'm having trouble concentrating, and my left shin is very sore and hot to the touch. It is also swollen, as is my left foot. I have limited range of motion down my entire left side. 

My pain levels are better than yesterday, but they're not *good*. When was the last time that my body felt good? February third, I think, when I had sexy endorphins running all up and through me. Every other minute it's bad, or it's asleep.

This morning I woke up yelling, "FUCK, LEG PAIN!"  It was very jarring.

I should be icing my left leg, but I'm being a big baby about having to ask for the ice pack. My aide was here when the therapist said to ice it. She should be taking care of me. That means bringing me a fucking ice pack when I'm injured without me specifically asking her to. 

I am cutting off my nose to spite my face. 

I'm not even going to get in to my jealousy issues in this post. Nope. 

List of Complaints

 I want more special treatment than I'm getting. I'm probably too greedy, but I did say "want", not "deserve". And I really want it. 

I don't want to exist in this body any more. Not the way it is. I can't figure out how to make it better. I tried something yesterday to make it better, and it went so wrong that now I have no hope. I have no ideas left, no motivation. I'm going through the motions of my regular life, with no joy. 

Who would have thought that my serious depression would be caused by physical problems, and not the sense of undying loneliness? 

My loneliness is definitely mortal. It gets killed off once a week, or so. 

No motivation other than immediate pain relief. I'm motivated to get that, but I'm unable to accomplish it. 

Don't want to do this any more. I am terrified of the only alternative that is presenting itself. 

Eight Days Later

 I’m feeling very disrespected. An “I love you” message on Friday night when you’re with someone else and then nothing substantial at all for 48 hours is not ok. That’s not respecting me and it’s not ok.

I don’t want to fight, or change the rules. I just want respect. 

Still Grateful for this Void

 Hoo boy. 

You wanted to know what being with a woman older than yourself? I wish you could have just waited until I got older. 

Every time I think about you touching someone else's skin, part of me doesn't want your fingers to touch mine, any more. 

I don't know why I don't feel like sex can be just sex. 

Wait, now I understand that I do feel like it can. 

I had relationships before I had this particular love. I have had sex just to have sex. It's fun. I understand that sometimes people have lots of reasons to have sex or not to have it. I don't judge people who live their lives, and their physical relationships do not involve me. 

Today, though, today I find myself in the questionable position of not knowing if I'm in a physical relationship or not. It feels like I am. Even if I'm not, I love. I feel love for one particular person, and I don't want to be with anyone else. 

He does, though. This is not new information. This is a me problem. 

I don't feel the way he does, and I don't understand how it feels to be in his head. Why is he curious about sex with other people if our sex is as good as he claims? Why doesn't he want to see me again, ever? Does he not want to see me again, ever? I swear that I believe that he loves me. 

I'm just always really afraid that he's suddenly going to stop. The inequality of our feelings about fidelity scares me to the core of my being. 

I want to think that I can hold on to my pragmatic stance and live with it. Literary characters live with it all the time. 

When you've agreed to an open relationship with a set of rules, how do you get over the feeling that your partner is out there, open to starting new relationships because your love alone isn't enough and it never will be?

Am I even right to want to get over that feeling?

I am a broken, misshapen human. Someone loves me. I'm so much luckier than so many. I need to appreciate the good. 

Right now, though, while he's off to spend time with someone who is not me, someone whose skin he has touched more recently than mine - how do I fight down the feeling of nausea? 

I guess I just fucking do.