Possibly, maybe, probably on hiatus. I want to keep writing but something has happened and I want to write about everything (and I have, twice over, and deleted it again) and finally feel free from everything that has been happening over the past few years. But, I can’t. So if I write I will feel as though it is censored, or false. It would not be true to write about happiness or rambles or anything of the kind in this moment given how I truly feel.
I wish I had it in me to be a good person, recognise the suffering I feel right now and want to help another out of it, so try hard to give another happiness. I know I will do this in time because I have time and time again, but in this moment, today. I can’t. I just can’t.
I wrote so much about everything that has happened and it didn’t help. It was just there, staring back at me in black and white rather than in a mess in my head. I barely even scraped the service.
Maybe I’ll be around and I’ll ramble and I’ll find small joys to keep me sane and keep me going, like in my cats. Cats are pretty incredible. They really do understand when you are sad and want to do what they can to make it better. My ferret, Pandora, she is incredible at being there for you when you are upset. After Seb passed away she clung to me, she would groom me and cuddle in close to me. Seb wasn’t her companion, by the way, they didn’t get along and so were kept apart, so it wasn’t mourning the loss of Seb the way me and Seb mourned Kib that resulted in Pandora trying to comfort me.
I love Ellen but when I watched her stand up and she laughed at the idea of a ferret as a comfort animal I can’t help but think she’s never known a ferret. I know what people think of ferrets, how people might use them. But, ferrets are incredible. They are so loyal, and so smart, and so loving. I miss my ferrets.
I guess I really can ramble about things when I’m feeling lower than low, when I don’t think anything can save my marriage. Please don’t think that I’d just say that after a small fight. This has been long coming and some things no matter how hard you want to help them and solve the issues, it just doesn’t work. Maybe I’ll go into details one day, I just ask that anyone reading this, that you please understand that it probably isn’t what you think and I have done a very good job of hiding what has been happening. From everyone.
Sometimes, it just is what it is and you have to face reality even when someone has tried really hard to warp your reality time and time again. But, we’re getting into tough ground here.
My stomach is turning at the thought of posting this. At living this. I just want to sleep. I don’t care how weak I sound right now. I’m writing this while raw and emotional and I am a person and people fucking feel. I’m a person damnit. It hurts when you lie to me, it hurts when you deceive me, it hurts when you use my mental illness against me, it hurts when you hurt me, I bruise, I ache, I bleed, I am a person.
Who am I protecting? What am I protecting? Why do I feel so much shame and guilt? Do I need permission to write this? To click publish on this?
“it’s complicated” “it’s difficult” “it isn’t what it seems” maybe it really is complicated and difficult and not what it seems. But what happens next? How does it end?
I can hear the train going by in the distance and it reminds me that the world is bigger than this. That life occurs outside of these walls and, and… I don’t know. Whatever energy I had left has gone. I don’t even know what I’m writing now let alone why.
I truly hope you’re well.