Weekly Update: Out of the Blue

Well, here we are, Monday again. It's been a rocky sort of week. Not terrible, just a bit rocky. Let's just start typing and see what we come up with, shall we?

Hmm...I don't know where to start...Let's see...

Ben's physical therapy is going well. He only has two more sessions left. In fact, he sees his nurse or whatever she is today to update her and see what the next steps are. His physical therapist doesn't think he needs muscle relaxers which is good. I'm a bit concerned because his arm has seemed to be really tight a couple of times. Physical therapy is so expensive though. His dad's insurance didn't cover $700 of his initial bill. If medicaid doesn't pick up some of that, it's all out of his bank account because I can't help and his stepmom won't let his dad. If we add occupational therapy onto that, that's another bill for the poor kid.

Roger is doing good. He's at his dad's. He doesn't want to spend regular time here which is really hard on me. He said to me this past week that it's gross here and he always feels as if he has to clean. That's a blow. It's not great here, but I didn't think it was gross. I've been trying to do things to improve the place, but I'm not moving fast enough and some of it is what do I tell the owners is the problem first...I don't want to tell them both big things at the same time. I feel like I've failed them. I know that it's not all my fault, but it is my brain that's the problem. I can't ignore that.

On the work front things are slowing down. That worries me, but there's nothing I can really do about it. I have one novel on my desk that I'm working on. I am supposed to have a couple of comics coming my way in September and possibly another novel, so I'll be okay.

DHS sucks. They were supposed to call me on Friday between 830 and 1030, but they never did. I tried calling but there were 47 people ahead of me and only an hour until they closed. I should try to call them again today but I don't have the time so it will have to wait until tomorrow. It's so frustrating that I gave them the information that they requested and they rejected it and now I have to go through all of this.

Let's throw some good news into the mix before I get into what's really weighing on me this morning...

Yesterday, we (Ben and I) picked up two tiny black kittens from someone that I know. Their mother had been hit by a car and this couple rescued the litter from the barn and bottle raised them. To say that they're spoiled is an understatement. These guys have been on high end food and cuddled and coddled to no end. My boys aren't 100% sure why I brought new babies into their house but nobody has massively freaked out. I had them in their carrier, on the couch, last night where everyone could smell each other. Then they spent last night in the bathroom, where they still are. I need to work and that allows them to still all smell each other and get used to each other. It also allows the babies to stretch their legs and explore a bit. When I went in there this morning to use the bathroom, they were curled up together on my jeans that I'd left in there. As soon as I sat down on the toilet, Mina (the female) came running over, climbed up on my lap, then my chest for snuggles. Then she spent a few minutes walking laps around my chest and shoulders, purring the whole time. She is 100% a lover. Apollo, her brother, came over for some attention too but was more interested in exploring the bathtub than me. I think given a bit of time for adjustment, they'll do well here. I've already left a message for my vet to take them in for a well check since they've not been to one yet.

Now...This part is going to be long so if you want to scroll, I'll put a tl;dr at the bottom.

I had a friend. A best friend. We were close and had known each other for about 10 years. After he ended his relationship with his girlfriend, we became lovers of sorts. I say of sorts because we live a good 5 hours apart and due to life stuff, we almost never saw each other. In fact, from the first time we were together that way to the second (and last) time, there was six years in between. While I was at his place the first time things happened, I told him that it would be really hard for me when he got another girlfriend because that'd end things between us. He told me that it wouldn't, that whoever he was with would have to accept me too.  Now, this may sound weird to some of you, but both him and I had led "alternative" lifestyles for ages so it wasn't weird to us.

Six years go by...six long as years where I don't get to see him. It sucked. I'll just leave it at that. One night, out of the blue, he asks if he can call me. I was excited, right until he called me and told me he was calling because a friend of ours had died. I was stunned. My instinct was that I needed to be there, but I was afraid to ask him if I could come. I did though and he told me, of course. The trip there was chaos...my car broke down, I had to get a rental, I had a hard time getting my data to work internationally...chaos. Somehow though, when I got there and he hugged me, it all seemed worth it. I was in my safe space. He's always been my safe space...someone I could be around and just be me. I didn't have to put on an act or pretend. On the way there, I had let him know I'd be late due to all the car nonsense and I had said something about doing something that might be bad for me when I was there...He thought I meant smoke marijuana (he uses it medicinally) but I meant sleeping with him again. I knew that if I did, it'd be even harder on me to go and not know when I might see him again.

That night, I didn't know where I was sleeping. I had asked if I could borrow his couch when I had initially asked if I could stay with him. I didn't know his feelings on things...but somehow, that night, I ended up in his bed. It was probably as simple as him asking if I was coming to bed. Once we got there, I could tell that he was as nervous as I was...we both wanted it, but there were a lot of years and emotion in between. Things happened. I'll leave it at that.

A couple of days later, I had to get back so I packed things up and headed home. This time, though, I was sure I'd see him again soon, probably in a few months. I was wrong, so very, very wrong. About 4 months later, he posted on Facebook that he was in a relationship. My heart broke because I just knew that it meant I was out. I tried to talk to him and he said he'd wanted to talk to me...wanted to, but hadn't. I won't lie. I pretty much lost it. Losing him meant losing one of the few places in this world that I felt safe, where I felt protected. There were other things going on and I was off my medication. It was ugly. I probably begged him not to do this to me.

What I do remember is coming home one night and sitting in my car. I couldn't stop crying. It was all too much. I'd lost my lover, my best friend, my safe space...I recorded a voice message for him that basically said I planned on killing myself and this was my goodbye message for him. The next morning, I updated my "if I die" file and then poured all of my medication into a wooden bowl that he had made. I had read if you take enough of the medication with alcohol, it would kill you. I had a bottle of sangria left over from New Years. Only my silly little cat (who I miss desperately) stopped me from doing it. Every time I reached for the bowl, she stood in between me and it and demanded I pet her. As for him? He never responded.

That was it for me...this man who supposedly loved me would let me die. Avoiding the conflict was more important than saving me. Months went by. The day after my birthday I sent him a text...he never misses my birthday...saying he'd forgotten. He said he had, he was sorry, but that he needed to find a new place to live fast. I knew what was coming maybe before he did. He was going to move in with her. They were going to start their happily ever after. I'd already muted him on social media and I kept it that way. Every post was like a stab in the back, but after a while, I got tired of crying and decided to move on with my life. He'd made his decision. It was to not have me in his life anymore.

Fast forward a year...to last night...he sent me a text saying that he was in the hospital but wanted to voice chat with me if I'd talk to him. I still love him, god help me, but the trust that we had is no longer there. He blew that up. Still, I texted with him a bit...about what he was doing in the hospital, about how I got kittens...easy things. I did ask him if he was high on pain meds and that's why he thought reaching out to me was a good idea. When he initially text me, he said he was now in a position to talk...my first thought was, "Were you being held against your will for the past year?"

Today I asked him why he reached out to me. He said he'd rather voice chat about it. He did say that he's sorry and he owes me a lot of sorries. Well, that's true but it doesn't help me from crying as I relive all of that. It doesn't change that even after something like 15 months that I don't feel 100% betrayed. I moved on, but my heart never truly did. I'm scared. Do I want to risk being hurt again? Am I strong enough? I don't know...I know that if I told him that I can't, he'd respect that. What I don't know if is I want to tell him no...

TL;DR: Former friend/lover bailed on me for 15 months and has made a reappearance in my life.

Edited to add: I let him call. He apologized for..well...everything. He was sincere. If knowing him for as long as I have means anything, I know when he's being sincere. Is everything 100% between us? Probably not. It's going to take some time to rebuild that trust to where it was before. It turns out that he got himself into a bad situation with this woman and like we've all done at some point, didn't see the red flags for what they were until it was too late. He's moved out now and will be rebuilding for a bit. I wish I could see him face to face because I think it'd bring healing to both of us, but since I'm not allowed in his country, that's not going to happen. This will be a one day at a time rebuilding of a friendship, but I think it'll be okay and that's the part that matters.

Am I going crazy?

No cute graphic. Just me. Raw. Crying. Wondering if I'm losing my mind.

Last night, I sent a message to "the man" after I saw a picture that he'd posted on Instagram. His response was, "huh?" and then nothing because he'd fallen asleep. This morning I asked him why he'd deleted the picture and he told me that there had never been a picture. Except I saw it. I swear I saw it. I can describe it. He was in bed, shirtless, with his glasses on. He was holding the book that he was reading, but it was closed and you could read the cover. It was similar to the one that's still on his Instagram from the night before. He swears there was never a picture.

So, that means one of two things...either I completely hallucinated it or he's fucking with me to make me feel as if I'm going crazy. I can't imagine a single reason that he would do the second thing. We were just together last week and we're good, we're solid. Which means...it really never existed. He thinks I'm overthinking the entire thing and that it was just a blip. Who the hell blips like that? Only crazy people.

Yesterday was a normal day. I worked in the morning and then cleaned some stuff out of the car. I went and picked up all 3 boys and we went to Kalamazoo. We dropped off Roger's sax for repairs, stopped by the comic shop so I could get a friend's latest issue, dropped Roger off at his lesson and then the other two and I went and had pie. After, we got gas, picked up Roger, and drove back, stopping to do a couple of errands. It was decided that everyone would go swimming at Roger's girlfriend's parents house so I left the younger two to get ready and Ben and I drove to my place so I could get my swimsuit. While here, I grabbed the mail which included stupid shit from DHS requiring me to jump through more hoops. I tried not to think about it much, but not knowing if you're going to be able to eat next week weighs on you.

We went, we swam, we had pizza, and I drove Ben back to his dad's because the other two were going to hang out longer. I used the bathroom there, changed clothes, and headed home. That's when everything went...weird...

I remember thinking about the DHS notice and thinking that I'd probably have to get some sort of job outside of the house and that's all I remember...at least for a while...at some point, I "came to" and felt completely disoriented. I kept thinking it feels like I'm driving back to Hastings instead of to my house. I couldn't tell you where I was and it freaked me out. It was before I got to Woodland. I know that because I kind of remember going through Woodland and stopping at the stop sign at the bottom of the road there. I remember rolling up the passenger side window and thinking that I have to focus, I have to focus...

I don't remember the rest of the drive. I remember pulling up to my driveway and counting the number of cars that were next door...7...and then pulling into the driveway.  I remember looking at my phone, which has become habit, and seeing that he'd posted a picture and looking at it and then sending him the message. It's all kind of fuzzy...I came in the house and sat down on the couch. I remember changing from my jeans to my leggings without standing up from the couch. I watched Big Brother from the dvr but I don't really remember much about it. Then, I went to sleep...

I'm scared. I have to work 20 hours a week/$600 a month to retain any kind of food stamps but just thinking about it sends me into a panic. I could get some sort of doctor's note, but I don't know that they'd write me one and I don't want to sound crazy. I don't want to be crazy. I'm completely not functional ever since he told me that there never was a second photo. I've tried to work but I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop freaking out. I just want to curl up, hide, disappear, something. I don't know. I just know that I'm scared...what if I'm going crazy?

Merry Christmas?

Merry Christmas? Happy holidays?

I find it fairly fascinating as to which posts get any attention and which don't. Maybe one day I'll stop and figure out why it is how it is. Not today though.

Today is Christmas day and I'm sitting on my couch, surrounded by chaos, and completely alone. There were no presents to open, no special breakfast. Just me and ....well, nothing. Just me. Just me and it's hard.

The boys aren't here. They weren't here yesterday either. All of our traditions ...well, none of them happened. I've tried to be brave. I've tried to convince myself that it's okay. After all, they'll be here tonight. My brain and heart keep screaming, "But it's not the same!" I can't really argue because they're right. It's not the same. We don't do Christmas pjs anymore. We don't read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Those are gone the way of the dodo. Now, they're practically grown up and those things seem silly to them. Work schedules kept them from being here last night so our Christmas Eve traditions...the few that were left...didn't happen. Work schedules will keep them from being here until past dinner tonight.

I feel as if I'm whining. I mean, there are worse things in the world, right? Nobody has died. They're getting spoiled at their father's house. Is this just me feeling sorry for myself? I'm always afraid of that. I'm afraid to tell anyone that I'm really struggling seeing all of the happy family pictures and amazing gifts that other people have. I'm afraid that they'll tell me I'm selfish for wanting someone to send me a present...something wrapped up and picked our just for me. It's happened before when I said that I had been checking the mailbox for cards and gifts. I was told that if I want something I should just go out and buy it.

That's not the same though, is it? Besides I don't have money to buy for myself. Every penny that I had went to getting things for the boys, sending out holiday cards to put smiles on other people's faces, and buying things like cat food and toilet paper. Is it so wrong of me to want/need to feel loved today?

I see all of the memes about reaching out to people today to make sure they're okay. Nobody has asked if I'm okay and why would they? They know that I'm most likely not and who wants to bring down their fun, special times with someone who is currently sitting on their couch crying because nobody went to Walmart and bought a $5 Lego pack and mailed it to her?

I'm trying to put on a brave face. I'm saying Merry Christmas and all of that. I'm liking people's photos because I really, truly am happy that they're having wonderful family and love filled days. It's not that I'm not happy for them. I am. I'm just also really, really sad for me. I just feel so very, very alone. No presents, no holiday breakfast, or special dinner...no friends invited me to join them. Hell, not even what remains of my family. In fact, I've had gifts here for my sister and her children for over a year.  There's been no effort made in that time.

Today I realize why so many people kill themselves at the holidays. That feeling of alone seeps deep into you and twists everything. No matter what I do, I can't seem to shake it. Somewhere a part of me knows that people care. The other voice is louder though. It's the one screaming, "If they cared so much, why hasn't your phone rang? Why has nobody texted? Why did nobody invite you over? Why didn't you have one single thing to open this morning?"

Still, that other voice is in there and I'm holding tight to it. I'm holding tight to the knowledge that in 8 hours or so, my living room will be filled with the chaos of wrapping paper and the sounds of my boys as they look through what they got this year. I'm holding on, even though it's hard, and going to go nuke a couple of hot dogs for lunch. Festive, no? Merry Christmas.