So, this may seem pretty retarded, but I tend to relate a lot of my feelings and life to World of Warcraft. I guess it's one of the few things I can make sense of anymore -- which is absolutely retarded.
Anyway-- The whole point of that blip of knowledge is to say this. What if we had some form of metaphorical "shield" that was meant to be our barrier from the stressors that are put upon us? Then does that mean that if the war of life beats you enough your shield would break?
Now my question is, if your shield is broken and you have misplaced your weapon, then exactly what are you left with to fight off the notorious brain dragons? Nothing. Left with nothing all over again..... This theme seems to be reoccurring lately.
I fear that my theoritical shield broke a very long time ago and that I was just running on this crazy and intense high until that one fucking terrible day. The thing I don't understand the most is how I withstood so much of the other bullshit that I have seen and that has happened to me, but the thing that finally snapped that shield in half was the departure of...essentially the.....the mortar that held me together at the seems. Something about Robert in specific gave me hope for the first time in light years. He, at one point at least, helped me to see the things around me for what they were and to move to be strong; Most of all there was something in him that inspired me to go for things I never thought were possible.....and that again seem all to scary.
I will probably never return to school --- No matter what I say -- I won't get my PhD and there I will be.... And everyone back home can be right. They can finally be proud in their predictions about the simple, awkward girl that left town at 16 wide-eyed and curious to learn what the world outside of that tiny town could offer here.
It didn't take long for me to realize that no matter what there would be demons that would find me and torment. It was as if I was literally dragging a cart filled with a million tormented souls that want more than anything to overcome me and walk the world again. Yea....that's a pretty crazy thought, eh? Maybe they are the only ones that have learned how to control brain dragons, taming them for their own evil purposes.
I have a whole fuckton of things rattling around in my brain today. It's largely in part to Bunny and I's trip to the university today. I had to get my medical records for the crazy person doctor cuz, yea. Anyway, it's kind of insane the flood of memories that came rushing into my head just upon entering that city; A city that once use to be the only place I had ever found solitude and happiness. Jacksonville was my safety zone for so many years and now it holds nothing but the ghosts of a past all to far gone."Each of us is an accumulation of our memories."
-Alan Loy McGinnis
I even begged my husband to please not ruin that place for me. I made him promise to at least let me finish my PhD before he did anything stupid. He made all of these promises BEFORE I ever agreed to his pleas for me to marry him...This was after MUCH hesitation on my part, but life threw some seriously devastating things at me during that time. He promised to take care of me and at the time I had a staph infection that (once I finally got care the day after we got married) the doctors told me could have probably killed me before long.
First off, THANK YOU for stating the fucking obvious. I am not a moron and I knew I was fucking sick as hell but I had no insurance and well I don't know. Anyway -- So -- I got married to him -- we had been friends for some time before we dated and things were for all intensive purposes and such were sorta perfect. I should have know that perfection doesn't actually exist. . .
Perfection is just a perception of a misconstrued reality. . .A misconstrued reality that we create in our heads, I guess.
Secondly, as I said before he inspired me. Why? I don't know. When I was with Robert I truly felt invincible. I did some of my best work while I was with him and even my thesis I wrote in hopes that he would be back soon. . . Ha soon and that was a year later.... Silly chaoskitty is silly. We were best friends afterall and in away we had always fed off of each other's crazy.
Now, I have to go on a hopefully brief aside. I do get super hyper-sexual when I am manic and I have been known to do insane things to attain sex when I am manic. I am completely reckless and dangerous about it-- I really don't fucking care.
The point of this aside is that I can see now that Robert used that to his advantage and was all to happy to just manipulate me and my emotions....He can't tell me he didn't recognize that about me....He is still the only person I have ever really known that long. . . I never keep friends or lovers long because when they start to get to close it's time for me to move out of the state......
(Yes, now its Bunny and she refuses to let me run .... Thankfully.)
Robert used my periods of mania to playout the fantasies that he wanted, at all costs -- Even knowing how I would feel when I "woke up" from my periods of disillusion. How could he do that? How is that everyone around me has pretty much taken hold of my mania and used it to their benefit all of these years and didn't even care how it would affect me in the end?
Anyway, Jacksonville was the last place I ever saw my husband. God, what a tragedy. I have said that before though. It's hard for me to really put into words any of how I am feeling or what I am thinking. In fact, my typing is nothing but sputters of keystrokes --- I keep hoping to make sense of it all. How did I get here? I keep asking myself that....It's the only thing is consistent anymore.... How did it happen? What did I do? Where did I make that horrific wrong turn that led me into this endless and mindless oblivion.
"Parting is such sweet sorrow. . . "At least that is what Shakespeare said. . . There is nothing sweet about the sorrow that endlesslessly continues to consume me. It kind of seems like time has only further wrapped the memories and the feelings of that time.
This is where I am going to go on a rant that Bunny has heard (all to often I am sure). I would give anything to be be able to at least change the way things ended; to change that last memory. Why did it have to be that way? The forced kiss through my sobs and him looking at me through eyes of sympathetic confusion and the adoration that an adult has for a small child. . . "I'll be back soon. I love you," as if he were just going out to run an errand. . .
An errand that would last for almost 4 years. . .
His voice still lingers in my ear drums, haunting me and leaving me with thousands of unanswered questions. I remember all of the happiness and joy that we shared and then I see that look and hear those penetratingly cold words stab into my thoughts . . . One of the few thoughts that always come across LOUD and CLEAR. No he never truly knew me, but it was okay in some weird way....No matter how tiring it was.
As Bunny and I drove through Jacksonville, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to various memories of times when I think I was happy, but I am not sure..... My psychologist asked me who I was this week and I couldn't answer. I am not sure.
Did I ever know or did I just continuously concoct the easiest personality to fit every situation? I am sure that the last is most likely true.
I had a lot more to say, but I can't sort through all my thoughts anymore so I guess this is where I stop for now. .. Off to try to make words for some work stuff since I can't make anymore words here. . . .
I leave you with a song from the musical cats, "Memory."
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