Nightmares

Had a bad dream just now. I don't want to write about the details because I'll never sleep again. It wasn't super scary at the end, just emotionally charged with high energy. Of a child I said was no longer mine. He was a little boy. He was not alive. 

I've only ever felt guilt over my abortion shortly after it was over. I still have the sonogram as if it was Olivia's. But I think I've repressed any real heartbreak. My gut says it was a son. Sigh. Maybe I'm speculating to much. 

When I woke up, I reached for L and he got upset. I hate that. I can't tell anymore if I actually hate him, or if I'm just beyond disappointed. 

There was other children in the dream. They died from drinking poisoned milk from a daycare. I don't know my connection. But I was trying to unravel something. Me and my two daughters I think. And L. Alternate universe L.

I think there was 2 me's in the dream. Real me and alternate universe me. I'm not shaking anymore, but I'm afraid to let sleep take over. I'm exhausted though. I don't want to think about this anyone, but that boys pain.....

I feel like I have no one to talk to. I hate this. 

A new chapter

Hi again,

So after some very tough times with L. We're still living together and might even be taking a vacation in a few months.. but that's besides the point. The point is that I am still in a place that I don't want to be in. I am not happy in my relationship, but I am not one to kick someone I care about in the dirt (no matter how much he's hurt me..well.. no  matter how much he's annoyed me severely and made my life a living hellooo). I am hoping that maybe if I focus on myself I can just leave on my own.

I would never never never displace my daughter; so I would only leave if I perhaps got into low income housing or I was buying a house (or renting a house for a reasonable price) either way, I'm not budging (no matter how uncomfortable I feel unless those aforementioned cases were in play.

I have that talk with L every so often because I like to gauge where his mind is at, but he still keeps shifting and flipping, I can't keep up with him honestly. The truth is that I know  what I want. But it seems like he has no idea. Recently our sex life has proven more to how he feels because it hasn't been the same in months. It's like there's this disconnect and maybe I've echoed this previously, but it's more prevalent now. It almost feels like we're having sex just because. As if I could be anyone really and as long as he come out with a happy ending all is well. It feels like I'm the only one suffering from this. Perhaps it's because I'm such an emotional person and sex for me is rooted deeply in emotion. If that's not there than I'm just not into it.

This hurts the more I think about it, but it's something that can't be prevented. I've tried everything to make this relationship work, but I honestly know this is temporary. I just wish that he could come to his senses and admit how he truly feels. I hope he doesn't think he's sparing me any pain because in all actuality, I've never felt pain like this before.
My wounds can't close, I can't heal, I can't move on...I'm just stuck in purgatory.

Why I've come to HATE the Holidays

Yes, I've said it. I despise the holidays...
And not because I don't believe in them, or the idea of family, down time, or mass consumerism. But because its come to mean something different to me.

There used to be a time when I loved the holidays. Even though we lived in the shelter, in some one else's home, or in our car we were together and a family. And that was enough for me.

But since I've had my daughter or rather since she's came into my life... its a bit more complicated.

Lets go over how this came to be...

About 3 years back, our first Christmas out of the shelter was uneventful. It was depressing and stressful for whatever reason. I can't really recall that Christmas clearly. I felt tides changing, but I couldn't pinpoint what was changing.

Next Christmas I was pregnant. Although I was not yet aware. I was in the first few months that is characterized as "you're-losing-your-fucking-mind" trimester. I spent that day, at someone I did not knows house, followed by partying all night in a club. I was fucking loony. And that my first taste of "I hate Christmas".

Then comes Olivia, and that Christmas managed to get fucked up because I spent it in a mental hospital. Just days prior as I wallowed in postpartum depression and undiagnosed bipolar disorder the world flipped upside down, and I chased my infidelity with a slit wrist. Once again, loony... are you sensing a pattern here? Because I am.

Then, finally this Christmas. Familial pressures everywhere, shelter lifestyle, no money, stress and depression. I smelt a breakdown coming along. Until Christmas eve comes and too many shots of tequila makes him into a monster. I don't recall doing anything, and neither does he. I do recall the sting that followed a swift slap to the face. The air rushing out of my lungs as my windpipes were constricting. Nothing I did could make it stop, and I myself couldn't avoid/stop it. This time I wasn't the loony one.

I had never been a victim. Never considered myself one, and Im still unsure if I am. I just know it hurt. The angry words followed by the vindictive hands. I've never felt so weak. I cried, until I couldn't. I yelled until I was too scared to do anything but just stand there. And at some point in time even that angered him.

He has NEVER been like this before. What happened??!!?? We'll never know.

He didn't stop until we gained the interest of the dutiful security guards. I was paralyzed so I nodded everything was fine, and I let him guide me into the shower once they left. The rest of my night was plagued by nightmares and his apologies. He swore to never do it again. But he's never done it before. He doesn't even know how he got to that point in the first place.

So how can one control the unknown?? I'll never know...

So this is why I despise the holidays. Its been bringing out the worst on me. Its rained the shittiest parade and Im left to pick up the fragmented streamers of my life. Every single fucking time.

And I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I don't know what to do. Im stuck. Frozen. In that frame of mind.

My hope is that my soul will heal as my wounds will. And I can pack my pessimism away until next time.

Until next time.