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Hereafter - In the End, We'll All Become Stories I'm angry. I'm very angry. And I'm gonna be angry for awhile. Was supposed to travel to Europe with family next week. Been planning since the Bush era; supposed to go in 2020 but... ya know. Then partner's family had a health scare and plans were scrapped. Such is life, nobody's fault. And I'm pissed. Pissed at this situation where family is priority I'm without mine. Pissed I've been roped into the center of bullshit drama. Pissed at their sympathy and thots and pears; doesn't fix anything or make it better, more a reminder of what's been taken from me. What's infuriating the most is my travel bug; it's dead. No motivation to travel anywhere anymore. A constant throughout my whole life vanished overnight. It might come back, it might not. Current mentality is akin to my sexlife: don't give me hope. I'm angry. I'm very angry. I can't direct it towards anyone or anything. I can't place blame or weave a narrative of heroes and villains. All I can do is stew and vent. Gonna update here occasionally. Figure the foreseeable future is going to be rough therefore nice to have some form of anchor. Update: mild good day. Spent most of it in a cold sweat and bitter anger. Time away does wonders cause I figure if nothing I ever do is good enough and I don't know how "this" works, then what's the point being involved. Codependency 101: you can't set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. Update: in the middle of the night was a subtle epiphany. Love does not equal happiness. My mind wandered, playing highlights of this current chapter and rarely have I been happy. And peeling away the layers keeps coming back to that insecurity of inadequacy. I'm never good enough, then I realized it's not my problem. It's their insecurities projected onto me. I know it b/c I've done it. Update: bad night, better day, bitter night. After watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding, I pulled my passport out of my bag. Oh... "We'll plan something." I... it's very grating. The kind of sympathy that's utterly meaningless. The "better place" kind of rhetoric where you're better off staying silent and matching eye contact briefly. I can't have hatred or resentment but I can't act as those I'm not broken. Before all this, I was accepting of my celibacy and coming out of depression. It's fine. The motivation to fix it was never there therefore it wasn't a priority. It's fine. Better to accept reality than cry over dreams. Plus, throughout the course of my life, I've been sexually active, maybe, half a solar revolution combined, so it's not something I'll truly miss. But this... the desire to travel. Visit new lands and experiences...gone., This hurts. If the db wasn't a factor it might've hit different but... This hurts, and I'm sure at some point I'll hear sympathies then in the next breath hear about trips of their own. Uh huh, sure ya are... Update: spent some time in the old MSY terminal. Reflected on my time there and the decisions which led to well... here. And there's the rub. Every decision was mine. The shit back then, my decision to let it continue. The time in Washington was my decision to let it continue. The move back was my decision. And to stay was my decision. I wonder what 20I4 me would think if we met. Around this time I flew home every weekend to escape. I know what he'd ask. And I wouldn't be able to give a straight answer. Because I don't know; never could a find a solid reasoning beyond fear. Humans do irrational things sometimes. What I do know is enabling the behavior without consequences or boundaries led to a free pass to do whatever. After awhile you brought it on yourself. If you had walked away or stood your ground or actually cared about yourself before it was too late, pretty sure you'd be a lot happier. Update: witnessed a family dialogue with its own syntax and vernacular. discussions events and places, past and present. didn't know any of it. "you lucky" bitch, please, I got my own shit to deal with; won't hear about it though. don't ask, don't tell. yet saw two people act without missing a beat. I don't understand why I'm here aside from I chose to be, and I can't understand why I made that choice. I mean I can but I still can't understand, why me? Update: last year when I was doing a cross country triangle, car logistics (woof), I asked if any of my partner's exes would perform such a feat. Didn't get an answer. I have no real experience of being a significant other, so some form of context is nice; "in similar situations, this is what they did" reasoning. Then, with my current actions, asked where my ranking was in the pantheon. Still no answer, and labeled inappropriate. She absolutely has that right. It's her life, her past; it is not my business nor concern. But I have to wonder... what is the cost of lies? Update: still fucking pissed; furious, even. Bore witness to a waste of time, which is their right. It's not my rodeo; how they choose to spend time together is their business. Fury mixed with anxiety equals mud butt. I'm really trying to better myself and step away from toxic behaviors (I'm gonna keep ringing the codependency bell till something harmonizes). But I can't be in an environment where people won't communicate with each other. Oh, they talk...about fluff and nonsense but logistics, scheduling, maintenance, preparedness, anything of substance... absent. I sacrificed a lifelong dream for this. I have no right to play the martyr card, but... it's been for nothing; all for nothing. Again, not my rodeo; I can only control me. What they do is their business. It's the same with this relationship. I thought it was my job to fix it or maintain it because she was busy with other things. And it took me a long time to realize I can't pick up their slack; they have to want to do it, I can't force them or do it for them. Nor can I resent them for making that decision; it was theirs to make. So what do you do? Focus on yourself. |
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