First, let me tell you that absolutely nothing exciting happened today. SO if you’re looking for an up to date positivity blog, click the little X box in the upper corner now because mama is dealing in nothing but the past tonight. Here’s the sped up version of today: Woke up at 6 am, got on the laptop, the kids woke up, Derrick got up, we all had cereal, I organized my office, I took a nap, got up, I washed my face and got dressed and went to the swamp meet with my dad, we had lunch at Tam’s, I came home and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up, cleaned the living room and thawed dinner. After a few hours of BS-ing with friends, I made dinner. We ate. They’re now playing Just Dance on the Wii and I’m writing. Tada! One whole day in one paragraph—go me!
Trust is a big issue in our household and I’ve had a lot of people lose a lot of respect for me. I’m not a good person, but I try to be every day. I know I say I hate being a “fixer” but in all honesty, I think I like fixing all I can to make up for all the things I’ve fucked up over the years. I tried to be a perfect child to make up for all the fights and drug use my parents did. I tried to mask the bad childhood with good grades, awards and buying friendships. When I was a teenager I was very rebellious and did a lot of things for attention. I didn’t find out this was Bipolar-related until I was 27, so you can imagine all the crap I did before I got my diagnosis. I was desperate to make people like me when I was a teenager. I was super lonely and still “bought” people’s friendships—but it got worse, I began using my body as currency. I wasn’t even taught different and when my cousins began taking advantage of me at a very young age, I just assumed that sex was an equal opportunity expense.
When I became an adult, I was already in a serious relationship and engaged for the third time. I was literally what they called a “fast girl” I moved very fast only because I was super lonely and didn’t ever want to hurt anyone. I don’t like to say no, because I’m afraid of hurting, upsetting or angering people. That gets me into trouble, a lot. That’s how the affairs started. I didn’t know how to say know and at the time I was feeling incredibly lonely and was hurting. I needed the attention, and since I was angry at my spouse, I wanted attention from anybody but him. Sometimes I’d feel like Derrick didn’t care who I was, who I was growing up to be and what I wanted to do with my life. We were kind of just going through the motions of husband and wife, mother and father to young kids and roommates paying bills. I’m naturally an open book and love to talk, and I’m not gunna lie, I like talking about myself. I love when people are genuinely interested in me because I give them the same respect in return. I genuinely want to get to know people. But that kind of relationship can quickly escalate into something more and dangerous.
I couldn’t tell you what was worse for my marriage; the sexual affairs or the emotional ones. The only way I can explain it is, I asked for the emotional affairs, I won’t lie. I wanted the attention, I wanted to feel important and special. I wanted someone to talk to me, about me and notice me and my life. However, the downside of the emotional affair is the payment. There’s always a request for payment. And for me, the payment was usually sexual because that’s what I was used to. That’s what I was raised to know. When a man gave you sole attention and flattered you, you slept with him to tell him you appreciate it. I’ll admit it, I have a warped-ass mind. I know I do. I have issues and I don;t know why I think the way that I do, but I do. God, I hope that makes sense. I am trying my damnedest to change my ways and not be that immature person anymore. I haven’t had an affair since 2008 and what’s weird is that I cherish that like an alcoholic does his sobriety date. Just like with my cutting, I was 23 when I cut for the last time. I remember where I was, why I did it and how I felt. I have a sobriety date, but that doesn’t matter to anyone. No one is proud of me for that but me.
I’m trying to become a better person every day. I think I’ve done a lot of growing and growing up, but most days I still feel like a child who’s in trouble, like I’m walking through eggshells. I can’t have a conversation with anyone because it’s a possibility that I’m having an affair. Hell, I’m scared to death of working because what if I don’t continue to take my medications properly and my bipolar mentality kicks in and I’m back to screwing people just to impress them and have them like me? Do you know HOW much it sucks to not be able to trust yourself? Do you know how much it sucks to know that your spouse doesn’t trust you further than he can throw you? Do you know how much it sucks to know you can’t be alone with another person without your husband imagining the worst? Do you know how much it sucks to have your privacy invaded now that they know you’ve been unfaithful, even though you’re busting your ass to change and make things right? I’m going to therapy. I have a Psychiatrist. I’m on a lot of meds. I’m a member of a Support Group and I blog. I have outlets and I have friends that I talk to. But it’s never enough, I still feel like a cheating whore at the end of that day. Even when it’s been a good day. Even when the husband and I have great sex. I still feel like I don’t deserve him. I feel like I’m filthy and unforgiven.
I have no idea where I’ll be 10 years from now, but some days, I have a gut-feeling that I’ll be divorced and lonely again. Especially when the kids find out that I broke their dad’s heart by cheating on him. I have a feeling I’ll be one of those crazy women with the matted hair, talking to the voices in their head out loud, while pushing a shopping cart full of crap down the street. I mean, if you’re alone and lonely, what’s the point of staying on your medications, am I right? I know, it’s dramatic, but if things don’t change, and I keep feeling as horrible as I do inside every day, it’ll either be that or suicide. I’m tired of feeling worthless, no matter how hard I try to improve, work, change and grow. I think the pills are working, but maybe I’m just delusional. Maybe they’re not working and I am on the verge of having another manic-induced affair. Who knows. I’m schizo, remember? Some days I’m surprised I’m still alive by the days’ end. But somethings got to give right? Something soon? I’m trying to work 2 jobs to keep myself distracted and busy. So I don’t fall into bad habits. But I doubt that’s even recognized. It’s time to grow up, and I’m not just talking about me.
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