An Epiphany

I don’t know what happened to me on the night I realised just how sick I really am. I can’t tell if it was the swirl of xanax, THC, nitrous oxide, sertraline or oxytocin from the 5 orgasms I gave myself that made me see who I am and that I’m not a burden, not a liability, not a problem to be solved. But I am a person, who is in pain, and is reaching out their hand to be held. I remember lying with my face drooling with a tiny spot of saliva, my genitals tingling the climax away and feeling so much deep love for myself. Mixed with sadness. That I could see myself from the outside. I love myself with an inconceivable power. I am my God. And each one of us is our own God. Its not a matter of religious experience or spirituality, deities, what the fuck ever, who the fuck cares. Your God is you, and half the time you spend sinning against them.

I don’t mean in some hate ridden child abusive doctrination styled sin. I mean you’re mean. Stop being mean. Why the fuck are you being mean to yourself? You spend so much time with your loved ones giving them every section of your heart like it's infinite and it IS, so why are you not giving any to yourself? You won’t run out. I promise. I realised I was being an abusive girlfriend. Not to my Ethan. To my Maddie. I was isolating her. I wouldn’t let her out because I was afraid I’d lose her, or that having her meant I couldn’t have Ethan or Hannah. She didn’t deserve that. She was so excited, she IS so excited. She wants to give so much love, but she wants to receive that love with a burning passion. She wants to be fiercely loved, because she knows how it feels now, and when she sees how he treats her - how she treats her - she wants to give that to herself but she doesn’t even know how to. She knows she can, and she’s doing it wrong.

I isolated myself by hiding my feelings from him like I was a white t-shirt crackhead telling my girlfriend’s own best friend she doesn't want to see her anymore. “I don’t mind” “i just want you to be happy” “no really, I don’t want to go anyway”. But then she’s alone, suffocated in the body odour stenched trailer and all she knows is fear. She can see them looking back over their shoulders, tears in their eyes. She wants to scream for them, but she knows him. White t-shirt shuts her in the bedroom and locks the door. He tells her she can’t come out, they don’t want her anyway, why would they? Who is she anyway? A dumb ugly failure who is better off alone and here. Here. He does have a soft side. He doesn’t leave her with no comfort. He brings her cigarettes, and weed, and nangs and valium. He brings all the things that will make her sleep, so she can dream in wonders and see what her life would be like if she was only good enough. She can run the fields with Ethan and Hannah and Tigerlily can be a fairy bat cat, and her family and Ethan’s family, and Hannah’s family are safe, happy and full of joy. There are weird things too. Giant sellotape holders falling like waterfalls, socks put over shoes, dolphins in the sky, talking trees and rivers flowing with fruit cup cordial. And everyone is happy. I think I felt safer in that. He’s afraid she won’t be happy, or they’ll hurt her, or they’ll leave her, so he puts her away so she’s safe, and keeps the pain from getting inside.

But of course, it gets in anyway. Because of course it does.

No one would read that logic and agree, He should let her be free, give her a clean home, a clean body, he should wash her hair like a new born baby and kiss her cheeks with all the gentle tenderness he can muster. Then he should put his fear in the “just in case” box, and prepare himself, so she is safe, and he should watch over her with a tentative exhilaration. She can do it. She’s okay. she’s allowed to have the real thing. That would be the thing that makes sense. Because he knows they’ll give that to her. He sees her with them, the smiles, the laughs, the soft shivers over her spine that make her know she’s in the right place, with the right people, and she’s thriving. And he knows he can protect her if they ever did disrespect her, even though there;s no need for that. There’s no need to be protected, because there’s no danger. This is a safe place.

And then there’s him. He’s just trying to love her the way he got shown to love. So many names, and stories, and moments contributed to how he loves and how he behaves. If Riley hadn’t raped him, maybe he wouldn’t be so scared they’ll touch her without asking. If Kristie hadn’t gaslit him as a child maybe he would be less protective of her sense of knowing the truth. If his dad hadn’t screamed at him when he was 13 right before his opening night performance of The Return of Dr X maybe he wouldn’t fall apart as soon as anyone yells at her. If Kailesh had wanted him the way he wanted Kailesh, maybe he wouldn’t be afraid they’re going to choose someone else over her. I think he just wants to keep her safe, but he needs to do what we all need to do, we need to let go, he needs to let go, I need to let go.

When I come home to Tigerlily, I never question whether she hates me. What the fuck would I have done to make that happen? I feed her every morning, I clean up after her, play with her, cuddle her and kiss her, take care of her. People don’t just switch like that. I’ve not even done it and I have Borderline Personality Disorder aka Banana Split. I want the world to know what it feels like. If they knew how it felt, maybe it’d help. I want to explain it however I can, in any way I can, but I don’t want it to feel like a clinical study because it's not. It’s just me, and my life, and my feelings. There will be people who relate, there will be people who don’t. But when I talk to other people with it, they nod with a twinkle of glistening hope and relief in their eyes of “oh my god, finally, someone understands”. Maybe that’s why I realised it right now. I sit here on my Ethan’s bed, with three fans on me despite the cool outside air, pillows behind my back, my naked booty cushioned into the duvet in the most comfortable cushy way possible. I was going to go to bed. I was on my 5th cone. I had 2 canisters of nitrous oxide for dinner, a xanax, and I was ready to go to bed. I had been trying to go to bed for hours, but I had things to do. I had to close the blinds, and make it dark to promote melatonin production because of the stupid RSL next door with its 4am christmas fucking lights. I didn’t really care that much, but the tiny bit of soberness inside me definitely did. She had had a good night. First she got home from the vet and ate sushi, and ordered 3 canisters of nangs. She finished the first one before Ethan got home, but she must have passed out because it was 6 episodes into Brooklyn 99 more than I remember watching, and it was also 2 hours later, so there’s that. When she saw him she realised he was her heaven. She tried to explain it, but there wasn’t a part of her voice that could even comprehend it, and still can’t. She manifested his aura into her heart, and he's what she wants to feel in her dying moments whenever they may be. Tomorrow, next week, 70 years from now? Ethan. Ethan is home. That’s what she was trying to say. Then she set Ethan free because she spoke to Her and convinced Her Ethan would come back. So She left her alone. But She said she needed something to replace him for the night. So she asked him for the second Nitrous canister that she bought using his money because she’s honestly been a bit of a mooch recently. So when he kissed her lips and Her lips and her lips and said goodbye and I love you, She was satisfied. But She was still holding a knife to her gut, just in case. In case she acted up. The night went well, she did the entire 2nd canister and felt her eyes fog over a little bit. It wasn’t Ethan’s home that came to her, but it was okay. It was a different kind of heaven, one without fear, but also one that was totally hers. Not Hers. It was hers. She could feel like my beautiful enchanting Hannah. My muse who inspires me to do what’s best for me whenever the fuck I feel like. To feel content without som[];eone standing by her side. I liked it. I want to find that more.

There’s so many things that are wrong with me that come and go and make me feel like a fraud. Anhedonia, agoraphobia, orthorexia, anorexia, trust issues, a lot of feelings and fears and mostly just hypochondria. I hate how little it takes to convince my brain I have a disorder. What a liar. Borderline makes me feel things like I’ve felt them all my life in 5 minutes. Is it fake? Am I fake? I think I’m an amazing actress. The feelings come and go like raindrops, and I barely remember how it feels to feel my feelings.

I dissociated today and it's one of the only times I’m truly not sure what happened. I had 2 xanax so I could stay calm, and started well, got started even had a chat and a giggle. I woke up with Tigerlily and felt happy for the first time in a few days. I fed her, cleaned her litter, and showered and still had 2 hours before I had to leave. I watched tv, relaxed and got cuddles from Ethan. He bought me snacks for work, and we talked, and then he took me to work. I kept crying. I know I can do this, I’m so frustrated at this fear. He kissed me to heal the heart hurts and pushed me. And from there I’m not entirely sure what happened. It’s weird, I don’t remember how I got home. I don’t remember saying goodbye to my client. Did I run out of the treatment? I remember the body wrap, I don’t remember saying goodbye to her. I just remember walking out and telling Sophia I need to go. I don’t even recognise it, and I’m not sure where I left, which door I took. It’s so bizarre. Was it the extra xanax? I’ve done 3 bad things at this job already. It's things like this that make me feel like why do people even bother with me. I’m so stressful, I’m a liability so often because my brain doesn’t control my brain, my feelings do. There are so many times I want to pack a bag and walk away, disappearing from the people around me. They would be better off without me and my frustrating needs, and my clinginess, my attention seeking, and my flakiness. I back out so much, that's so annoying, and I just watch the same things over again. I demand people invite me and then half the time don’t even go because I changed my mind and wanted to stay in. I don’t know why I want to stay in. I think I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the idea of just being able to be happy so every time it starts to happen I ruin it somehow. I don’t know how, but I'm very skilled. I know just how to make a problem out of nothing and a disaster where there was nothing but joy. Show me a sunny day and I’ll show you a drought. I always find something. I don’t even mean to. I’m so optimistic, and cheerful. Am I manic or depressed? I can’t figure it out. I can’t figure out how I feel but I ’can’t sleep without my Heart and I want to be selfish and have him. He was mine for so long, and then I had to share him and I was accommodating, and now I feel like I want him back, I feel like he’s not with me deeply anymore, I’m not good enough or fun enough for him, and that's why it makes me want to pack up and run away. Everything would be easier, there would be none of my brokenness for them, there would be no sadness, no boringness, no complexes and annoying repetitive questions. it would be peaceful. I want to be peaceful and I want him to be peaceful. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves someone not broken, someone who isn’t disrespectful or needy, or pathetic and in need of so much help. And yet I’m praying to Gods and deities I don’t even believe in to keep him strong for me. I want him to fight for me, and stay with me and fight these things together. I wish I could give him my strength, but when he needs it from me it's when it's the lowest for me too. I want to give him my knowledge, my techniques, the words I’ve learnt that help me to help him, but I can’t do it, and then he feels useless. But all I want him to know is that just him staying with me, staying here, not leaving is all I need. If he just stays that would be enough.

It’s Desperation day today. Can you tell I watch How I Met Your Mother? I wanted to spend my first Valentines day with Ethan…with Ethan. But instead I’m in a psyche ward and I’m considering leaving us. Because he’s been letting this woman break my heart and hurt me every day for weeks, for months. Few.