But I am Fine

(Cool – Scott Krippayne)

 

I am always fine because protecting people is important to me. I am always fine because being vulnerable and trusting other people is extremely difficult after you’ve been through emotional abuse complete with gaslighting and pitting my friends against me. I am always fine because after living under a gag order for three years it is hard to remember the door of the cage is open and I can walk free. It is so weird that the little cage of isolation almost feels more safe and homey than freedom.

 

Truth is important to me, but it is true that I am fine. People’s hearts and lungs stop every day, but my heart is still pumping oxygenated blood…without ECMO or other high level medical support. Would I much rather be dead sometimes, oh yeah, but even then, I am fine…I’m not okay…but I am fine.

 

I am often not okay. I feel so alone sometimes, but I am fine. I am exhausted, but I am fine. The pain of grief is still an open painful weeping wound, but I am fine.

 

Sometimes I am more convincingly fine than others…some days I can’t stop crying. Other days I am so sure that maybe someday I’ll be okay…it is hard. So hard. Life is still so incredibly difficult.

 

I just ate a piece of chocolate and the wrapper said “revive the art of conversation.” It made me mad. I don’t have any friends close to where I live and I don’t know how to find friends and I crave connection but there isn’t anyone with whom to connect. And even with the people I do have outside of this area, grief took away my ability to connect and communicate. I’m not as silent as I once was, but I do know that stressors can take away my voice again, and it is frustrating. I fought so hard to be able to speak and then I was abused and made to feel that I shouldn’t use my voice. I fought so hard to be able to speak, but sometimes it feels like it was all in vain when I lose it again.

 

TBH, there is a positive in the grief…not really sleeping for so long has made it feel almost normal to be so sleep-deprived. That makes nights spent working until 11pm not feel quite so hard.

 

There are always hard things in life…Last Thursday (August 10), was 9 years from the day I went to “the new church at home.” One week from that day I met my best friend…that is awesome…but it also seems like circumstances stemming from the change of churches is the whole reason I started in counseling and ultimately ended up in an abusive relationship. I would be a totally different person if that hadn’t happened and maybe I would have a residency. Maybe someone would actually want me. But I can’t change the past. What happened is over and I hated that I couldn’t change it then, and thinking about it now certainly won’t change it either…but sometimes the days and years run together and it feels like all that was yesterday. I think I am connecting from the pain of this situation into the pain of that situation. On the positive side, it is not a re-experiencing flashback kind of experience, but more of a soulful longing for something different. A deep ache of reminder of the pain. Changing churches changed my life…but I survived. Yeah, this situation is different, but maybe if I survived that then I can survive this too.

 

Speaking of church, I have some bad news for y’all…it appears we have missed the rapture…

I found the rapture!!

lol…so I was screwing around on google maps streetview and look right there…the rapture started in 2012 in Farmington. It appears we have been left behind…how unfortunate!…okay fine, or google maps just randomly has a blurry section of the street…

 

Wanna know something else unfortunate? This…

20170810_114729.jpg

Yeah, my last 54 ounce bag of skittles got empty… I s’pose that happens when in the past few months skittles have been one of the few things that sounds good and have thus been used for both emotional support and caloric support. (Don’t feel too sorry for me yet…I still have a few smaller bags left…).

 

One last thing: I found a crawly bug on the floor in the bathroom when I was getting dressed this morning. I didn’t scream. Really, I am so mentally exhausted that it was just one more task for the day. I got rid of the bug in the toilet without even being too worked up about it. I guess there’s another positive.

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