xx_river_xx

Has anyone else noticed that the vivid imaginations we had when we were younger, deminishes vastly when we get out in the "real world" and start having responsibilities? I swear, I had an imaginary friend until I was 19. More of an imaginary plaything... But now that I am all growed-up, I can't even begin to fantasize without every single noise or feeling, breaking my concentration. My husband doesn't help the situation at all. He is everything I never found sexy, and every time I try to relax or fantasize, he interupts me, or wants to get involved. I can't find a nice way to tell him that I'd rather suck spam than so much as THINK he exists at that particular moment. If he does try giving me my space, he's still in the house, and I still hear him coughing or banging dishes around in the kitchen. I know we're married, but can I just live in a seperate house?! lol.

I don't know how much of my "vivid imagination" was fantasy, and how much was psychic communication with some otherworldly spirits. For years, I had one specific "imaginary friend". He was everything I thought I wanted in a man. He was a bit too jealous though, and after I got married, he refused to come to me anymore for a long time. Suddenly I met someone when Crash and I were seperated, who had the exact same spiritual energy. I would have sworn it was him, except that everyone was trying to convince me that these things I saw and felt, could not have been real. This guy knew things, secrets, pet-names... things I had never told anyone. I was convinced that not only was this guy the real thing, but that I was some kind of psychic. Now, not only is the man gone, but my pseudo-existential lover as well.

My whole life, I have been into RPGs. I've been a Role-Playing geek. I could always get so deeply engrossed in the games, and in my character's life, that I WAS that person. I know now that a part of that ability was a side-effect of having Borderline Personality Disorder.
You know the saying "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it"? That's me. I love who I am, or was, before everyone started trying to fix me. I love my instabilities and my imagination. I love my scathing sarcasm and my fierce friendship. But most of all, I love that I can fall harder and faster in love than anyone else I've ever met.

But I guess that all good things must come to an end. As much as I might want to live that way, to fall in love again, I find that I have become somewhat cynical and dis-attached. I am actually COMPLETELY dis-attached. I love my kids, but them aside, my life is joyless. Don't get me wrong, I am NOT suicidal. So get that out of your head right now! (Been there, done that, learned from my damn mistakes thank you very much.) I used to see things that were unexplainable, I used to hear things that nobody else heard. And quite frankly I miss it.

I used to think I was scizophrenic or that I was maybe some kind of spiritual medium. Now I just feel alone. Even in a crowded room. In a noisy bar I feel stifled by the sounds, but I can't hear a thing. I open my eyes and the world is grey. For the first time in my life, when I close my eyes I can't see a thing. I hope that it's not going to be this way forever. I want to feel something again. I guess malaise IS a feeling, monotony and boredom and numb... I want to think clearly and feel alive and see the world in neon again. Am I the only one who feels that they've lost so much of who they are in a matter of months? It's been a year-and-a-half since Lorrik abandoned me, but it's only been a couple of weeks since I stopped feeling it. For over a year, every night I cried myself to sleep. Every day, I thought about leaving it all behind to go be homeless with him again. It doesn't get easier. People always say that it gets easier, but it doesn't. Every time I got dumped or cheated on or hurt, it took a while, but I got over it. It stopped hurting. After Lorrik, it's taken me forever just to get to where I am now. One day, people started talking about him less. He finally stopped emailing me. I threw out his clothes and his letters. And it still hurts every single time I think about him. For fuck's sake I'm crying right now.

How can you cry when you feel so numb? I don't get it. Someone wants to show me there's some good left in the world, but quite honestly I'm scared. I'm terrified that I'll jump right in without feeling a gorram thing. I'm worried that I'll be too casual again. I WANT the butterflies. I WANT to be scared to lose it... because that would mean I actually had something worth losing. .....Fuck... I'd better stop crying before I electrocute myself on this old ass keyboard! lol God. I'm just tired and homesick and nervous about my biopsy tomorrow. I'll let y'all know how it goes, but I might not have the results for a couple of weeks.
Anyone who actually read all of that crap, yes, I am in therapy.... And medicated.