This was written half Friday night, and partially this morning, so there are time references that are a little weird - as usual - just deal…
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I wrote the best post last night, and as happens sometimes i hit the wrong button and POOF! gone. I HATE it when that happens. I had written for an hour and a half. Oh well. I try to look at that as the universe telling me it was better not to post what I’d written. And maybe so. It was full of emotion and frustration and probably didn’t make a lot of sense anyway. Why I’m worried about that here I don’t know.
I don’t know that I’m in all that better of a space today. I had a really good time last night with Mel. We went out to eat and then went shopping. I finally found a stereo that works with my ipod that I like. It’s portable but with really good sound so I can move it where ever I want. It’s also a good thing that B found the site with the batteries for ipods, since mine’s apparently dying. Last night I had to reset it. So we just played cards and talked about things, men and the world and listened to music.
I’d forgotten how much fun I have with her. And I felt really stupid. I was sad that I’d been neglectful, especially when we know each other so well that we can just be together and be comfortable.
So I did really well. I do fine unless he’s around. If he’s on IM I can’t just ignore it. If he’s at work when I come first thing in the morning, or come back from lunch, he’s there. A constant reminder that that part of my life is not only a void, but on hold. One of the things that I have developed some where along the way is to turn off everything at work. I don’t feel the things that are going on in my life, or if I do, for the most part I can take a moment and a break and come back and it’s put somewhere on a shelf in my mind. I guess it is a good coping skill, which I should be grateful for given how I read so many bipolars who can’t do this and I know it has helped me keep a job, which means that even if my life is falling apart around me I still keep my family ok. So at work even though I have all this shit making me not eat and not sleep without drugs I can talk to him without feeling anything, he’s just another co worker.
Lately, though, at work I have been trying to not ask him things unless he’s all that is there. There is a couple reasons. One is that I don’t want to rely on him so much. But there is also another reason. He’s so paranoid about me doing or saying anything that is going to reflect badly on him. In reality our coach has told me how happy she is with my work, and yesterday when I said I’d get back on the phones in the midst of all the other crazy stuff she’d asked me to do, she said that she thought I was just great. That is how most of my other co workers see me as well and at least the ones that I work around in our south office now come to me for help with things, and I’m able to give it. Twice one of my coworkers has actually need MM help (the product that we work on) - and I’ve known more…
But B doesn’t see that - he just sees that I could fuck things up for him. Even one of the guys from up where he works now respects and helps me any time he can. And he’s got so much knowledge and understanding it’s awesome - come to think of it, some of the T4s now don’t mind working directly with me to get things resolved. Even one of the team members who is apparently not very open to helping folks helps me all the time. And it is hard that sometimes it feels like all B can think about is that I have to do well or something will happen to him. I think one of the things that bothers me right now is that he thinks that it is bad that we have a relationship because we work together. And he thinks if we break up that will fix things. But the truth is the root of that belief is that my reputation affects his, and that isn’t going to change because no one KNOWS we’re going out - so that is an illusion. Is there a danger of things carrying over into the work place? Sure there is always a chance the I can walk through walls, or that something will fall up, in physics there is a chance of everything - nothing is ever 100%. But I would think that if in the last few days, if the worst thing that has happened is that on Yahoo IM I got upset and pushed him a little, (totally invisible to the rest of our coworkers), and if I realized that that crossed the line - I stopped immediately cuz I realized that I wasn’t ok, then if that is the worst - well - I could have done that from anywhere - it didn’t matter if I was sitting in a different office from him. So yeah the whole work thing drives me nuts… But it’s there and I have no control over it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the fact that he reads my blog. There have been times I have wanted him to read something I’ve written to get some clarity about me, or what I’ve been feeling. Before we ever went out, I let him know that it was a good way to keep up with my emotional state. Well somewhere in the last month or so I’ve stopped being able to write because of what he might read. I was afraid that he would take what I write here out of context, not understand it, take it personally, you name it. Before I think he could have heard me say (or have seen me write) that I was feeling crazy, sad, like dying, or any number of things, and in his ability to step back work with me to work through it. But the other night after I’d told him I’d been writing he did something that made me crazy. I was working things out in my writing (that is what I do here after all), and said something about how figuring out things going on inside my head was a matter of life and death for me. He immediately jumped on that - equating that our relationship was making me so unstable that I was considering suicide. And that wasn’t I meant at all…. Yet he took it so personally. Already I had been kind of frustrated that he knew about where to read my stuff because it has kept me from writing for that exact reason… And it was confirmed.
I know it wasn’t the same, but it was like when Mr. Ex freaked completely out in reading a post that was full of despair - thinking I was going to go find a knife to fall on right after I wrote. I guess it must come from not understanding bipolar - and if you are not bipolar then let me put it this way - if I’m talking about things even in my blog there isn’t much chance I’m considering things seriously. Trust me - if it’s like that I’m not going to be writing - I’m going to be holding everything in and really looking for that knife. Wanting to kill myself comes from holding all that poison in and it becoming a black pit inside of my soul that takes everything over until I can no longer see beyond it. Writing and talking keep it out. But beyond that working out core issues that make my bipolar trigger, or things that I have lived with are a matter of life and death for everyone, because if we don’t work out our stuff then we live emotionally dead lives, and there is no point in that. I want to live, breathe, experience every ounce of life, and I can’t if I am not aware of what life is and what filters my past is distorting it to be… To me, life is so much more than my physical existance here on earth…
Having to explain that to him was frustrating. It took focus away from the real issues that he and I are facing. Time and energy wasted in misunderstanding, and that is exactly why I started to regret having him read me. He doesn’t understand me at all even when we talk directly, how is he ever going to understand my written words when I am not there to clarify them. So the purpose of having him read actually backfired on me. Sucks… cuz now I have this place that was my safe place that is causing things to get worse in a relationship - but after talking to my therapist, she encouraged me to reclaim it.
There were a few reasons. One she knows how it plays such a large part of keeping me sane. How I consider it a good thing to be able to share with other bipolars - and how I can just say what I need without being afraid of things here. The other was that ultimately if he reads things here and they upset him or scare him or make him doubt, then if he doesn’t come to me to find out what they meant, or if he so completely misunderstands what I write (like the life and death statement) then it is him, not me. And that being afraid to write here is just another manifestation of me being afraid of being myself with him. I mean, the reality is, I have tried to be myself and it’s put him in a tailspin. So was it a valid fear? Obviously it was, and it was self protecting because it allowed our relationship to be distant but comfortable for him, which I thought I could live with.
But like the above statement about living life alive, a relationship like that is a one dimensional thing. It isn’t about what he wants to make it - it’s not about a depth of commitment, or having to be “in love”. It’s about the depth of the relationship - the desire to be real, to live life here and now, and to feel what that is together. I want this in all my relationships that are more important to me than a “see you around once in a while” sort of thing. I don’t want to feel like I have to censor myself, or not share, and I don’t want the other person doing that either.
Anyway back to talking about my feelings at work, something happens that isn’t great about putting all of that stuff on hold too. As soon as I walk out of the building it all hits me almost physically. Yesterday I left for lunch to go to see Amy, and I guess partially because I’d really kept myself from feeling anything, and partially because yesterday just seemed a climax for me… I walked to my car and barely got into it before I broke completely down. Sobs wracked me so hard I couldn’t even get my keys into the car ignition.
For the first time I really let myself FEEL all the pain and anger and frustration. It moved through me and shook me so hard I could barely do anything. My first instinct, as it would have been before we dated, was to call him. And what a mistake. Nothing there. Just nothing. Yep, just made things worse. Of course my brain knew that was going to happen, so what a stupid thing to do. But I just kept holding on for a little something… something that would give me some hope that somewhere he cared, that it mattered to him, holding on and just not letting go. But it wasn’t there. And truthfully, in the times when my heart has overridden my brain and tried to talk, outside of work or not, it’s the same.
Last night before going to bed I was going to recreate what I had written earlier. It was late, and I saw he was on. I knew he’d gone out, and a big part of me said, whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore. A small part of me said that I had known he would, that part of wanting to not see me was for a break, and then I just realized it didn’t matter. We’ve separated our lives. Again, like a person who can’t turn from a car wreck because it’s human nature to almost revel in that death and destruction, I couldn’t stop myself from IM’ing him. Among other things I asked him if he was deciding where we were going to see each other any more, and I didn’t get an answer. And I realized that yeah, that was probably a large part of it, or maybe that he’d already decided and just doesn’t know what to about it, or that at least that was a large part of what he was going through. But more deeply I thought about our commitment (at least I thought it was) to talk about and make those decisions together. And that isn’t happening. He’s off thinking in his own space. I’m in mine. And there is no bridge.
And for the first time last night, I really faced the fact that our relationship has changed. And not in a way that I would have liked. And unlike earlier when I was just completely overwhelmed in the pain of losing yet another thing that was special to me, when I was just in the feelings of loss - but instead in a rational, this is happening and I have no control over it sort of way. But I examined that. Was it special because I just wanted it to be? I’ve done all this work on looking at things inside myself and how they reflect around me, and have so much stuff that has come up. I have his actions that show that my needs just make his triggers about being controlled go off and he just retreats - there is no middle ground. So he is right when he said it’s my perception of loss. It’s hard to lose what wasn’t there. Maybe giving up the illusion hurts more than the actual stuff. No, I don’t think that is true either.
And I think the loss is somewhere in the middle. It would appear I’m losing a good friend, a tie to others whom I love, someone who has been support strength for me, and someone I just like being around. I guess I had hoped that he meant it about talking - that it was the right thing to do. He’s been trying to teach me how to communicate and I’ve always been afraid. The last 2 weeks I’ve been practicing that and now I’ve driven him away. Sort of a confirmation for the fact that I’ve always known not to say what’s in my heart… never works. I tried to tell him that I could see myself holding back and I didn’t like it, and I know now that holding back like that was probably the only thing that didn’t make him go away like he has now. What is wrong with me that if I’m who I really am that with men I try to be honest and who I am and it scares the shit out of them? Or maybe it’s just me… being honest about who i am just shows them how fucked up I really am and no one wants to be around that… But I know that isn’t true. I have friends in my life who love and accept me for who I am - fucked up or not. No, I think this is more about his ability to deal with feelings. But honestly I don’t know. Without him talking to me I have no way to know what is going on with him at all, and in reality he may come back and just say he wants to end it, and then I will never know.
I think the worst part is that I sit here on the outside with no say, no ability to discuss anything. I’m on the outside of the wall that he has defined, and past it I cannot go. So I guess it’s up to me if I stay here or not. I’m not ready to make that choice.
