Tag: #healing

Twist in Time

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I think that one of the hardest things for me has been accepting that after over two decades of my parents trying to protect me from the world…

I allowed the grand illusion to be shattered.

All of their hard work, the effort made by my parents and sibling collectively, were suddenly pointless because I could never go back, no matter how badly I wanted to.

I haven’t written anything in a while, whenever I begin typing something within me stops. My stories have no worth to anyone, not even to myself when my heart still belongs to a home that never existed.

After over a year of no contact, my ex and I saw each other, and whilst I had convinced myself that I had grown stronger and mature enough to handle the situation…I got sucked right back in.

The emotions spilled out of me like a volcano that had been threatening to errupt for years until suddenly it all came down, burning all the progress I had made.

He looks better, he seems so much more decent and composed, his life has become luxurious and more sensible..Everything is cleaner and he is extremely productive…he travels and goes out and is filled with energy and does what he says he will when he says it….

Was I the reason that this man was at his worst? Was I the thing holding him back?

There’s something so painful about seeing your past move forward without you…every part of me is happy for him because he is then I always knew he could be…but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a fraction of bitterness that continues to ask what was wrong with me?

Why wasn’t I enough?

I look back at the time we had together and I contemplate the weeks since I’ve seen him again, and I don’t know which parts are real and which aren’t. Such a vast difference in experiences cannot possibly belong in the same narrative and so I find myself questioning which events really happened and which ones were dramatized in my brain ? It starts to feel like there really isn’t a winning combination.

I’ve never wanted to have kids…but recently I find myself thinking about what I would have been like as a mom…and I know that I could never put out a spawn into this world who would have the potential to hurt another person’s treasure. I know that my father would be heart broken if he witnessed the way my relationships played put, his little girl turned from princess into Cinderella…the story wasn’t meant to be that way…

History has a way of repeating itself and sometimes the hero of the story ends up being the villain…procreation was never an option for someone like me.

If I have learnt anything these past few weeks, it’s that even if it is a trauma bond…it doesn’t mean that it’s not love as well. I am still as in love with him as I was 6 years ago…as much as he is trying to be my friend and I am trying to be his…the hardest part is pretending that I am fine with just that knowing that all I’ve ever wanted was to be his.

Maybe there is some sort of magic to this chaos…maybe if we find a way to truly remain friends…the cycle of narcissism will break and maybe this time we will beat the psychology and maybe just maybe…that will be the healing our souls have needed.

What It Felt Like

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It was like dying…without the commitment…not because it was like sleep, but because the rope tied around my neck reeled me back in. Every! Single! Time! It promised demise but delivered damnation.

It was hard…like breathing…with one hand covering your mouth and the other plugging your nostrils…the screams all internal and futile, each scream a waste of finite oxygen aiding your eventual suffocation…

It felt addictive, like asphyxiation after the first time, a craving for something bad that possibly, sometimes…maybe…came with a promise of satisfaction…if you didn’t die…

Sugar…sugar was an instant release of those happy making endorphins…I’ve just swallowed half a slab already and I’ve barely begun…instant gratification with an upfront disclaimer…an honest exchange of truths “I’m going to eat you now and you shall cease to exist, I am sorry Cadbury, but this is love.”

“I understand, long after I have faded from your memory…many moments after the taste of me no longer lingers on your lusty tongue, you will feel a disconcerting feeling that your hips are not alone…at first you will think that you are paranoid…but soon enough it will dawn upon you in the most magnificent breakdown ever known to man or monster (thats you ladies)…that I am still with you…I never left”.

I love how the little things in life are honest like that…

Eat crap and get fat or die from diabetes, or not really, I may stub my toe and find that the impact ruptured a nerve in my brain causing some chain reaction that ultimately ends with God feeling challenged resulting in my untimely death…how inconvenient…I still had half a chocolate left…

What does it all matter? Scroll up to any of my previous posts and it may as well have been written by a deceased individual, because I can safely say that she (the author) is no longer with us. Why go so far as to compare this post to any of those? Compare them with each other! Each piece written by an entirely different fragmented entity, caused by trauma to the heart and resulting in numerous personas in the brain.

Nope! Not DID or BPD or any of those and I dare to say sadly, just good old defence mechanisms taking on the roles of a psychiatric disorder but without enough commitment to earn us some of the good stuff…

Have I offended someone? You think that I do not know the intricacies of mental disorders or how damning it can be?! Trust me, I am well aware, so aware that I dare to kid, because I have lost the only thing I ever wanted as a result of psychosis…not as in one diagnosis…PSYCHOSIS!

Is there a recognised name/label/stigma for heartbreak? Or is it still filed under “Silly Little Girl Who Can’t Let Go- Section Grade A Dumbass” ?

There isn’t! All you get is the “oh no shame it will take time”, or “here pop these pills that will cause every normal function that somehow managed to stay regular in your body to fuck out and remind you that you’re sad but actually feel nothing about it…for now”.

It just does not work! What is the balance line between, okay sure the lover I refer to is a narcissistic dick at the best of times who seems completely unable to recognise the pain he caused or that his passive aggressive actions that he may not realise are aimed at me (heck maybe I really do think that everything is about me) almost a year after he left me and then ghosted me but continued to partake in areas of my life that would no doubt drive me insane…

And: this sociopathic narc is pure evil! This was his plan the entire time there is nothing good in him! Shun shun Shuuuuuuuuuuuuun! (Yip, Charlie the Unicorn).

Is there a mid point here where we can accept that yes, his own traumas and experiences led him to act the way he did and continues to, (I mean not really though from what I can tell he seems to be the picture of mental stability and perfect gentleman to all)he really could not have turned out any other way. Acceptance of that with a huge dollop of “get over him and move on you didn’t and don’t deserve that!”

We start throwing in terms like ‘trauma-bonds’, karmic partners’…uhhhh The Loch Ness Monsster…who gives a damned donut?! Whatever it is…magical, mysterious or bloody Gummy Berry Juice…He broke us, it broke me and now theres shit scattered all over the floor and no amount of sweeping is going to make this disappear under any rugs!

A year later, I still love him, I am still IN love with him and I cannot imagine that he isn’t coming back for me (totally agree…straightjacket for me)…a year later and he is still in close and constant contact with my family, trying to inadvertently take care of me…and don’t get me wrong…I would never want him to not be a part of the family even if that excludes me…but all that does is causes me to whip out my Sherlock Holmes Hat and magnifying glass in order to appropriate “what ifs” to non-existent causes.

Is he a bad guy? No! Not at all, in fact, he is one of the three greatest men that I have ever known! Here is the crusher though…All that does is confuse the hell out of me as to if he actually did compromise my emotional and mental capacity? The sad truth is that no matter the number of excuses I make for him, or the blame and shame that I take, I think its a resounding yes.

If anyone is reading this they are probably wondering what the point is…

CLOSURE!

I don’t want to pretend to move on from something that I have not been able to receive closure on, nor create a logical and satisfying substitute for myself. Do not be fooled into thinking that “it is what it is”…generally yes, but in this regard…absolutely not! Some things need to be ended like a book…a conclusion and rounding off…a finality that may not be satisfying but is still final.

I want to seal up the bag after ripping everything apart and setting fire to it…but the bubble doesn’t work that way with all matters of the heart. If there is going to be a time to recover fully from this, that time is now. It may take longer than the suggested ’30-45 Working days’ on the back of our human packaging box, but hey, I’ve always known that I had defects…irrespective, the only way out is through, and it may be a long road ahead but I’ll tell you something…

It was like seeing the most exquisite painting the moment your eyes opened for the first time, as if Leonardo had hung it up perfectly within your line of sight. And there it was, just for you. It was like butterflies finally understood that you were in awe of them…fluttering towards you, no longer flying away…As if suddenly background music began to play…violins and pianos orchestrating the sonata that was your life…

It felt like breathing in rainbows and exhaling sunshine…and even when you gasped for air, the suffocation tasted like him…and he was everything.

If Closure Were An Episode

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“The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost…”

I painted this piece at midnight, with insomnia as my only friend. Whilst embarking on the creative adventure, a scenario played out in my head…all the things she said as she took a drag of her cigarette…a long deep breath filled with nicotine as she finally received the closure she deserved…this is my narrative…

“The last honest thing I ever did was love you…”

(I copied this image from an already existing piece, I do not know the artist but this is not an original idea)

She leaned against the wall… NO! If I’m going to tell this story, I am going to tell it right…

I leaned against the wall, it was me, this story is mine…this time I am the main character, and yes…it happened to me!

Even in a rendition, I feel the urge to enter my confessional with my defensiveness firing! How many times had I been on the receiving end of those very accusations!? They weren’t even accusatory, they were statements! Solid beliefs designed to hurt and stop me in my silly tracks as I recoiled from the sheer mention of me trying to be the focal point of something…leave alone my own life!

How many times have YOU experienced that?? How many times have you done it to someone else? Does it occur that weeks, months and even years later the behavior becomes ingrained into the persons mind! Their character which was probably already pretty humble to begin with is now just an eruption of insecurities and self doubt?!

Standing with her back against the wall, for once a decision rather than a reaction, she put the thin cigarette to her lips…convincing her hand to steady and praying that her breath would follow suite. How was it that even after all this time, the only way to consider the damage that was done was to remove herself from the architecture and assume an entirely 3rd person stance in her own narrative.

Waking up from what felt like a coma, some sort of Sleeping Beauty curse where the entire kingdom had fallen to the ground, that was the only way to view the entrance back into a functional and non-toxic life.

Her decisions, good or bad were now her own! Drinking to numb the pain, knowing she was not an alcoholic, smoking to form a habit other than cutting…knowing that I did not make her any less lady like than doing all the heavy lifting was back in the dark days. Yes! Her dark days! The ones where she forgot everything she had known prior to the breaking down of self!

This was her vessel, her temple to destroy or rebuild and the excuses and ammo her actions so often gave him in order to triangulate his support system, no longer served as a mechanism to validate him and demean her…this was her war cry, and he knew it the moment he turned the corner in time to watch her puff the smoke out her hollow cheeks.

“I see you’ve become a full time smoker now…”

As he paused to do his “I’m going to pretend to take a breath like this just occurred to me then try to act like I wasn’t going to say it but then dramatize how my concern for you is just too powerful and so I just have to be the bad guy and say some horrible things to you that need to be translated into I care”…

She threw the cigarette down clumsily, stomped on it because that’s how they did it in the movies and took a deep breath. “I do believe your judgments have been passed, and whilst I am appreciative of the panels opinion, I do not have the time for a hearing right now”.

The expression on his face betrayed his skillset! He was completely unable to control the rage that shot across his face, his twitching eye revealing his secrets…

How was a man who claimed calm to be his mantra, THAT aggrevated by her shutting down of his annihilation?! Oh right! This was a direct attack on his honor! A character assassination! This was her being all the things he had repeated to her over and over again…

Maybe he was right this time!

“You don’t even know who you are anymore, behavior like that! Your parents would be so disgusted with you”… and there we have it…desperate attack number two coming in hot…she knew that if she did not end it right now, closure would no longer be an option for either of them.

This was her last dramatic and deep breath of the day…this was certainly the last monologue she would be delivering to him ever… and the choice was his…to listen to it or not to…

“Who I am and who i was and who you perceive me to be will forever be irrelevant, not just to you but to the entirety of our once existing relationship. Whatever form I may have taken on, I did not conjure up the power to act or speak for you, that responsibility has always been your own. “

” The last authentic thing I did was love you, it was real, it was so true…it was the most natural thing I ever could have done! So natural in fact, that I HAD to become someone else inorder to convince myself that letting you go was loving you!! No amount of gaslighting, harmful behavior, scary outbursts or hurtful plots from you will convince me that I did not love you, and that I did not love you well enough. I may doubt myself, but the only thing I have ever had certainty of was my love for you.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, tangling into the single strand of her hair that crossed her eye and lay delicately on the bottom of her face…she could not take another deep breath here, the risk of breathing his allure in again was far too strong…

Instead, she looked up, pursed her lips and gave him the smile that only he had ever seen, it was a smile created by him, it was only fitting that the last look she gave him was the one reserved for him.

He caught her gaze, his own softening as they exchanged an interaction in a realm far from our own…

“Maybe not in this lifetime…maybe in the next” she thought as she walked away…

All You Had To Do Was Stay

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Taylor Gets It Right

Either Taylor Swift is predicting my future…or she and I are the same person…but there is no alternative!

It’s obviously been months since my tragic breakup, and I say obviously because if you’ve even read a title of one of my posts, you’ve basically been on the journey with me!

I’m predominantly Christian but I do like to think that I am more spiritual than religious…I got into the habit of keeping none denominational angel cards around so that i could get answers to things I couldn’t figure out…that thing was my narc…

After the breakup I became so heavily dependent on them and the YouTube channels that did readings…my cards kept telling me to let go but the channels kept saying he is the one! And I lost it…

Like yes! He is coming for me?! He is going to reach out?!

-pile of stuff shows up in my house-

Uhm thus is not what I thought you meant when you said he would reach out! This is passive aggressive…I needed “omg I’m sorry i love you…”

That wasn’t what I got! Eventually I had a bit of a mental breakdown and I came to the conclusion (with the help of my trusty cards), that I have no choice but to surrender and let go! Of course it doesn’t mean I don’t love him…ot just means I have no intention or expectation when it comes to my relationship or interactions with him…I detach and transmute our energy.

If only!

I had like a solid 20 hours of “yay look at me and my bad self!! Ain’t feeling nothing but sunshine and rainbo…oh no oh no”…enter the water works! It just didn’t last…my narcy McNarcy pants popped right back into my brain confusing the hell out of me!

The things is, yes, I know that it’s the aftermath of an abusive/narcissistic relationship…yes it’s harder to let go…but I also know that the connection and bond was deeper and that he was a product of his trauma…the same way that I started becoming a product of mine!

While this is meant to take time to heal and process, I just want him here now! I want to be held and bury my face in his chest and hear the sound of his beating heart…just for a moment! Didn’t he know that?! Do they know that when they ghost us?! Is that why they do it?! Does that validation of causing us misery long after they disappear give them satisfaction?!

Is it like this just because they ghosted?! That lack of closure and brain jolt…is that why I cant get a grip?! I need answers!!! Someone!

I wanted the demons and monsters and ghosts of his bloody past that made him happier than I ever could…I knew all of that, and I wanted that…and even on the worst day when he did the most disgusting things…all he had to do was fucking stay!

Language!!! I apologize!

All he had to do was stay!! He just had to stay, continue to have dick out moments…but the love made it worth it…after everything, it still seemed worth it to me! I wish that I could push a button and undo what he has done…no not the hurt and the pain…not the toxic behaviors and breaking down of my character and health…just him leaving…I would undo that!

He ran far enough to lose me, but remained close enough to hurt me…I guess he kind of did stay…

Ohana

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“Ohana means family…and family means nobody gets left behind…or forgotten…”

Everyone deserve a family…an “ohana”…no one is perfect…no one ever will be.

It’s so easy to say you love someone, but so hard to prove just how unconditional love is! At the lack of a transactional exchange we are able to discard that love and pretend that it never existed.

I suppose this is a letter to him, a letter to any of the narcs, sociopaths, dids etc who have been abandoned because of the damage and destruction caused…and some just because they are different. Not every person allows their disorder to turn them into abusive and damaging people, they work every single day to be better and different and so often…they do.

It is unfair to umbrella every single person under one blanket assumption that they are just unsafe…the truth is…we all are. In our own ways when our safety is threatened we turn into the very things we were fighting against…I know I certainly have.

To my ex…you will ALWAYS be my ohana, and I will never leave you behind in whatever way I can. Just because we cannot be together does not mean that I stopped loving you or forgot you or tried to replace you. Love doesn’t mean being together, it doesn’t alway even mean liking or trusting the person…it means unconditionally and unequivocally…you are loved and you always have a home even if you aren’t there.

Being able to remove oneself from what it means to love and be loved in return is difficult…I’ve fought for so long to tell myself how much I can’t stand him, but the truth is that I know him, and while every single thing that happened can never be forgiven and it will never stop hurting, the damage is irreparable…he is still somewhere in there, past his actions, beyond his horrible words…deep down behind the pain and trauma … is a man trapped in a world he cannot escape…and that man is loved.

He is not his actions, his diagnosis or his decisions…

On a physical level … I am not safe…and I am better now than I was with him…on an emotional one, I loved him and will continue to with all his demons that suffocate him as much as they tried to suffocate me!! He is safer without someone who gets past his prison walls…I scratched the wall…it was no longer safe…and I understand that now…but my heart still belongs to him.

Lilo and Stitch is such a deep animation…Lilo loves Stitch and is willing to risk her safety in order to push past his hurt ..I never realized up until now just how insanely apt it is in relation to my relationship.

He was my Stitch…and every 626 deserves love…real love…not ownership and manipulation…Raw and real love.

No one wants to be the bad guy…but no one wants to acknowledge that we all become the villain at some point and we need to fix it…

I wish Stitch would come back home…to me…but I also know that Stitch would wreck what was left of home, and maybe it’s better this way…to love him from a safe distance…but to still love him.

Ohana means family…and family means no one gets left behind…or…

640 ➿