Firstly, an editorial or retraction or whatever: My use of the term "painkiller" was meant completely euphemistically, not literally. I thought this would come across, but I was informed that people did not catch it. I apologize, when I speak with any sort of stream-of-consciousness, I tend to use terms in weird ways that make sense to me, but don't to other people. I was merely meaning the process of self-medication to escape stress and pain. Sex, drugs, alcohol, work, rage, and cutting are just a few examples of painkillers when used in the manner I was intending. Note that this last comment is not any implication that any or all of those things have been used by either me or her.
So now it turns out I have to walk on eggshells about how I word things.
By the by, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your Friends Pages with my posts, I simply don't know how to create long posts and link them to a normal post, as I've seen done in other people's posts.
Moving on...and I apologize if I seem to jump around subjects or bring things up that seem to have little to do with everything else, but I *DO* write as my mind spits out the words. I've tried my best to put "****" when I jump to a more distinctly different subject.
I need to apologize. I have been having an honest-to-gods psychotic breakdown. I have been extremely manic depressive, switching from rage and hate to depressed and near-suicidal to even having one night of being almost happy and a peace at the world. In these lower moods, I have done and said things that were immature, childish, obsessive, and generally fucked off, even considering what happened. So let's move on to the facts, cold and hard.
It is true that she came to me and broke off our engagement, not sure if she still loved me anymore. From what happened in the following weeks of that and with the decision to give it another shot, I thought things were back to normal. Unfortunately, things were back to normal, which (I guess) was what was wrong. A couple days before Christmas, she said that she thought we needed to break up, but it seemed a very indecisive declaration and huge discussion of it never took place. I went through a short trip in "Hell" trying to decide how I felt about things. I spent about 2 weeks before I decided that, since I had never lived on my own, perhaps it was a good idea to separate so that I might become a stronger person. I guess I hoped that after my hoped for metamorphosis, she might find that great love for me she had said she had in the past. Despite my decision, not much happened. No serious conversation or packing of bags or anything of that nature. Things were quiet, but peaceful and I held on to what happiness I had left. She was still there. Life was still good. Cut to a little later, I had to go to bed early due to work. I woke up alone. She had seemed to be hurting but insisted, as is her nature, that everything was fine. I was worried. (Does that make sense? Someone I cared about seemingly disappeared and I was worried. That's normal, right?) I called her and all she would say was that she was at "some friend's house." I went to work, still worried that she might be hurting and taking it out in a bad way. I came home, she was still gone. She had come home just long enough to feed the cats, grab some clothes, and go again. The next couple days, lather, rinse, and repeat. And all I heard was "I'm at some friend's, don't worry."
It took her awhile to tell me anything about what she was doing. And it was all told to me as if it was just her typical way of relieving hurt. When we broke up for a short time early on in the relationships because of my cheating on her once, she did a similiar thing. Only this time, things...I wouldn't see or hear from her at all...the cats weren't being taken care of...she seemed to shirk all her responsibilities to our place.
Only now, after I've gone over the edge have I gotten to find out what all has happened. Maybe if I had found it all out before, things would have been different. I would have had time to adapt to her being gone. If she had just outwardly declared "We're done," instead of drifting away, I would've handled it better.
But things went the way they did. And I've broke. The honest truth is that, after being miserable the vast majority of my life, I had something that gave my life meaning. Someone to come home to, someone who made me genuinely happy and whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And, in a manner that felt much to quick, I had that ripped out from under me. More to the point, I had it taken away and I was left with unanswered questions. And it broke me.
My life had broken down to where I didn't have the life I had before her. Things have changed too much in two years.
****
So I couldn't find anyway to dull my pain. It's true that I could have gone and picked up guys...but (and this is not trying to get me the fucking sympathy vote, this is about confessing something publically) I hooked up with a guy awhile back. She and I had agreed to trying a bit of an open relationship where I could be with guys when the mood struck me. At an, in retrospect, inappropriate time, the mood struck. I went to a bar, met a guy, brought him back to the apartment. I was drunk, it's true, but I've never lost complete track of what was happening to me. I know that whenever I had control of myself, whenever there weren't lights and stars in my vision (which is how the flashes of what I do actually remember are to me), I was trying to stop him from doing anything and trying to get things back under control. I think, I hope (as the idea that I could lose that much control of my own accord frightens me more), he slipped me something. I did things that, even when drunk, I wouldn't have agreed to with a stranger. I got drunk to the point of poisoning with Her once and still remembered a condom for fear of pregnancy. So anyway...by all accounts, I was date raped. Try getting up the desire to go meet someone for a fling after having that happen to you.
She got onto me for being drunk...and me, being submissive, have lost most of my desire/will to drink. She gave me stern looks for being high alot for a few days...and me, being submissive, have lost the desire to get that stoned again.
****
I've got nothing to relieve or distract from the pain. I work, without break, for 9-10 hours a day, because it will distract me. But I'm paying for that in sore muscles and malnutrition.
I sincerely apologize to everyone for this bullshit. I'm sorry. I appreciate the concern, the comments...but you need to be careful. I don't like feeling like I'm being babied or pitied...and I will respond gruffly to that, in spite of myself. And I apologize for that as well.
****
I'm lost right now, plain and simple. To wax poetic: I am rudderless, adrift in a torrent.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to look for. Who to look for. Part of me wouldn't mind being a sub in the bdsm sense again, but not only is finding a female dom who understands my form of submissiveness difficult, I'm not sure I'm ready to submit to a female without having my rage and bitterness causing trouble. And I can't submit to a man, especially after the aformentioned night. For the first time, I don't find comfort in the idea of mindless submission that I have always found before.
***********
When I had a social life, comparisions between my two main groups of friends (those from high school and those since high school) and wolf packs have been common. Both groups understood what we meant and each group meant slightly different things. I want a new pack. I want another group of closely-knit friends that understand the concepts of dominance and submission, of leadership and follow, but also of comraderie, of brotherhood, of family. I think I liked the pack I had that was more like the current Urban Fantasy genre's idea of a wolf pack, which includes understanding concepts like comfort in touch and proximity and affection (there are other, more complex things, that have been understood by at least some members of these two past groups). I used to think I was strong enough to stand on my own, that I didn't need other people...well...I came to rely on other people for comfort and for support. I guess I fucked up there? Or did I? I thought it was good to trust other people and let them in a bit?
******************
So...how do I conclude this post? That I'm braced for probably more anger from her? Even though, as far as I know, I've stated nothing more than the explicit truth as best as I can remember it (I have about the worst memory in the world when it comes to most events in my life). She was pissed that I spoke my assumptions and suspicions about why it all happened, even though I thought I stated that I could be wrong about them. She'll be pissed that I said that here. I think I feel that I have to mention that to justify the fact that I'm speaking my mind, regardless of what others may think.
Do I say "Don't worry, I'll be alright," even though I don't know that for certain?
If I simply said "Goodbye," would you worry that I was going to off myself or attempt it?
I'll do it simple: The End.
So now it turns out I have to walk on eggshells about how I word things.
By the by, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your Friends Pages with my posts, I simply don't know how to create long posts and link them to a normal post, as I've seen done in other people's posts.
Moving on...and I apologize if I seem to jump around subjects or bring things up that seem to have little to do with everything else, but I *DO* write as my mind spits out the words. I've tried my best to put "****" when I jump to a more distinctly different subject.
I need to apologize. I have been having an honest-to-gods psychotic breakdown. I have been extremely manic depressive, switching from rage and hate to depressed and near-suicidal to even having one night of being almost happy and a peace at the world. In these lower moods, I have done and said things that were immature, childish, obsessive, and generally fucked off, even considering what happened. So let's move on to the facts, cold and hard.
It is true that she came to me and broke off our engagement, not sure if she still loved me anymore. From what happened in the following weeks of that and with the decision to give it another shot, I thought things were back to normal. Unfortunately, things were back to normal, which (I guess) was what was wrong. A couple days before Christmas, she said that she thought we needed to break up, but it seemed a very indecisive declaration and huge discussion of it never took place. I went through a short trip in "Hell" trying to decide how I felt about things. I spent about 2 weeks before I decided that, since I had never lived on my own, perhaps it was a good idea to separate so that I might become a stronger person. I guess I hoped that after my hoped for metamorphosis, she might find that great love for me she had said she had in the past. Despite my decision, not much happened. No serious conversation or packing of bags or anything of that nature. Things were quiet, but peaceful and I held on to what happiness I had left. She was still there. Life was still good. Cut to a little later, I had to go to bed early due to work. I woke up alone. She had seemed to be hurting but insisted, as is her nature, that everything was fine. I was worried. (Does that make sense? Someone I cared about seemingly disappeared and I was worried. That's normal, right?) I called her and all she would say was that she was at "some friend's house." I went to work, still worried that she might be hurting and taking it out in a bad way. I came home, she was still gone. She had come home just long enough to feed the cats, grab some clothes, and go again. The next couple days, lather, rinse, and repeat. And all I heard was "I'm at some friend's, don't worry."
It took her awhile to tell me anything about what she was doing. And it was all told to me as if it was just her typical way of relieving hurt. When we broke up for a short time early on in the relationships because of my cheating on her once, she did a similiar thing. Only this time, things...I wouldn't see or hear from her at all...the cats weren't being taken care of...she seemed to shirk all her responsibilities to our place.
Only now, after I've gone over the edge have I gotten to find out what all has happened. Maybe if I had found it all out before, things would have been different. I would have had time to adapt to her being gone. If she had just outwardly declared "We're done," instead of drifting away, I would've handled it better.
But things went the way they did. And I've broke. The honest truth is that, after being miserable the vast majority of my life, I had something that gave my life meaning. Someone to come home to, someone who made me genuinely happy and whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And, in a manner that felt much to quick, I had that ripped out from under me. More to the point, I had it taken away and I was left with unanswered questions. And it broke me.
My life had broken down to where I didn't have the life I had before her. Things have changed too much in two years.
****
So I couldn't find anyway to dull my pain. It's true that I could have gone and picked up guys...but (and this is not trying to get me the fucking sympathy vote, this is about confessing something publically) I hooked up with a guy awhile back. She and I had agreed to trying a bit of an open relationship where I could be with guys when the mood struck me. At an, in retrospect, inappropriate time, the mood struck. I went to a bar, met a guy, brought him back to the apartment. I was drunk, it's true, but I've never lost complete track of what was happening to me. I know that whenever I had control of myself, whenever there weren't lights and stars in my vision (which is how the flashes of what I do actually remember are to me), I was trying to stop him from doing anything and trying to get things back under control. I think, I hope (as the idea that I could lose that much control of my own accord frightens me more), he slipped me something. I did things that, even when drunk, I wouldn't have agreed to with a stranger. I got drunk to the point of poisoning with Her once and still remembered a condom for fear of pregnancy. So anyway...by all accounts, I was date raped. Try getting up the desire to go meet someone for a fling after having that happen to you.
She got onto me for being drunk...and me, being submissive, have lost most of my desire/will to drink. She gave me stern looks for being high alot for a few days...and me, being submissive, have lost the desire to get that stoned again.
****
I've got nothing to relieve or distract from the pain. I work, without break, for 9-10 hours a day, because it will distract me. But I'm paying for that in sore muscles and malnutrition.
I sincerely apologize to everyone for this bullshit. I'm sorry. I appreciate the concern, the comments...but you need to be careful. I don't like feeling like I'm being babied or pitied...and I will respond gruffly to that, in spite of myself. And I apologize for that as well.
****
I'm lost right now, plain and simple. To wax poetic: I am rudderless, adrift in a torrent.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to look for. Who to look for. Part of me wouldn't mind being a sub in the bdsm sense again, but not only is finding a female dom who understands my form of submissiveness difficult, I'm not sure I'm ready to submit to a female without having my rage and bitterness causing trouble. And I can't submit to a man, especially after the aformentioned night. For the first time, I don't find comfort in the idea of mindless submission that I have always found before.
***********
When I had a social life, comparisions between my two main groups of friends (those from high school and those since high school) and wolf packs have been common. Both groups understood what we meant and each group meant slightly different things. I want a new pack. I want another group of closely-knit friends that understand the concepts of dominance and submission, of leadership and follow, but also of comraderie, of brotherhood, of family. I think I liked the pack I had that was more like the current Urban Fantasy genre's idea of a wolf pack, which includes understanding concepts like comfort in touch and proximity and affection (there are other, more complex things, that have been understood by at least some members of these two past groups). I used to think I was strong enough to stand on my own, that I didn't need other people...well...I came to rely on other people for comfort and for support. I guess I fucked up there? Or did I? I thought it was good to trust other people and let them in a bit?
******************
So...how do I conclude this post? That I'm braced for probably more anger from her? Even though, as far as I know, I've stated nothing more than the explicit truth as best as I can remember it (I have about the worst memory in the world when it comes to most events in my life). She was pissed that I spoke my assumptions and suspicions about why it all happened, even though I thought I stated that I could be wrong about them. She'll be pissed that I said that here. I think I feel that I have to mention that to justify the fact that I'm speaking my mind, regardless of what others may think.
Do I say "Don't worry, I'll be alright," even though I don't know that for certain?
If I simply said "Goodbye," would you worry that I was going to off myself or attempt it?
I'll do it simple: The End.
About the other... I cant even begin to say anything that would make you feel better about it. So I will say this. If you need someone to hang out with and chill and do what YOU want to do? Give me holler...