Amen Tracy, Amen.

Mom. I know you read this shit – Never gave you the address for a reason.
Turn around now and leave.
Thank you.

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This is exactly what I needed to read this morning. When tracy lays it all on the line – it touches in ways you never think possible.

We all hide behind something. We are all afraid to change something about ourselves because we know, subconsciously or otherwise, that everything else has to change with it.

See, some things have come to light from this swiss cheese memory of mine and that, coupled with a really bad period have coupled to start a serious withdrawel. I don’t want to be touched – in any way. As much as I love my kids, the constant hanging on me has brought me to me wits end. The Asshole even thinking of touching me has sent me into a barely controlled rage. Things are piling up and screaming and I’m withdraweling faster then anyone can possibly comprehend.

then it was said that “well, you couldn’t stick with the gym, you’ll need professional help to deal with memories reserfacing – because if the gym was ‘too hard’ this will be incompacitating.” and the ‘that was different and I know why’ was shot down in a boiling vat of scalding words.

But it was.
and I know it.
Because of the above entry by tracy exactly. Change means everything changes and that’s terrifying. Rejection is easier to take if you think you deserve it.

And excuse me but I’ve been dealing with the kind of shit that’s bubbling to the surface right now for 20 years. It hasn’t incompacitated me yet, I won’t let it do so this time either. Just because this was something I didn’t quite expect, and I certainly didn’t remember, does not mean that I’m so weak it’s going to bury me.

I’m the first to admit that I’m a dependant person. I’ve depended on someone for the past 7 years to help keep me afloat. Now that that dependable source of stableness has a different set of problems which have nothing to do with me and all I can do is support when I’m allowed too – well, my solid rock has a big ole fracture in it doesn’t it? Does this mean that my first instinct was to flounder and fall? yeah, actualy it was. I admit I did so, and I know that i’ve worked DAMN hard to work through it and move past it. This stuff bubbled up while I was concentrating on that.

But it also means that the only person I can depend on now to pull me out?

Is me.

And fuck all of you who think I’m too dependant to do something on my own.

I’ve always, always known that somewhere in me there’s a strength to tap when I have to. Time to find it.

I won’t risk loosing my kids. I won’t risk imploding so badly that I cannot function. I will stop this withdrawel in it’s tracks – and not by ignoring it and hoping it goes away. I will hug my kids, and do my damndest not to explode when they just want cuddling.

I’ll even head to the ob-gyn soon to see if these wacked out periods and drastic mood swings means it’s time to hit the happy pills (menopause starts early in our family – mom started the process at 35 – I’m 33.) and make sure that the horemones stay on track in order to give me the strength to keep up with everything else I’m going to need to do to work on my head.

The memories will come. Somehow, somewhen they will come, and I’ll have to deal with them. I will deal with them. I’ll deal with what’s surfacing now and I will get through this.

I don’t have any other option.