So, it's
dawned on me that when I named my blog "Skirting My Issues," I wasn't just being
cute. Of course, I didn't know that at the time. Back in December when I set the
whole thing up, I thought I was the wittiest girl ever. Turns out, I'm just a
nitwit.
See, the reality is, I actually am skirting my issues. In the 4 months that have elapsed since my escape from the hell I sometimes refer to as "marriage," I have conquered very few of my issues. As a matter of fact, I'm getting worse. I cover it up with a red-lipped smile and sparkling, perfectly mascara-ed eyes, and if I didn't tell you that I was crumbling on the inside, you would never know. In fact just this past Tuesday I panicked my way through a church activity that I not only was deemed "team leader" for, but won the challenge against the other team, and then afterwards, was given a new assignment (to be disclosed at a later date) that I was completely unprepared for. It all happened with a smile and a giggle, but if you looked closely, you may have been able to tell that I was having trouble breathing and couldn't stop fidgeting. Or maybe not. I don't know. I do know that no one called me out on it.
So how do I do it? I haven't the slightest idea. I'm really open about my mental health, my anxiety and my PTSD and people admire that but, I'm so calm when I'm talking about it that chances are, they don't believe me.
I know how to analyze my behavior. I know all the right psychobabblejargon to describe myself. I even know my diagnosis number. But what do I do with that information? Sure, I know that when I'm overwhelmed I short circuit and go absolutely crazy. So what? Time after time I prove that I'm useless when it comes to positive coping mechanisms. Why go for a walk when I could just bleed and get it all over with, right? Wrong. I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to be "crazy." I don't want to be reminded of my failures as a daughter, as a sister, as a wife, as a friend, as a person...the only function in life I haven't failed yet is being an aunt. Give it time.
Forgive me if I don't want to hear my sister arguing over the phone with her husband - yes, husband, not ex, not soon-to-be ex (because there isn't even a lawyer involved yet), husband - about who knows what. You know what, I don't care. I'm sorry. I'm trying to reconstruct myself as a person because my husband destroyed me, and you're fighting about diaper rash?
I don't want to do it anymore! I feel like my niece. I want to stamp my feet and scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone "NO!" and to go away. I had the house to myself for a little while tonight...it was blissful. Cupcakes (baking, not eating), some Florence + the Machine, and Bride Day on TLC, and I was happy. Enter my sister, an angry brother-in-law, and a rambunctious niece and the peace was gone faster than a prostitute's morals. I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. I'm so tired.
Therapist thinks the pressure will continue to built until the divorce is over. I hope not. I freaked out a week ago and have been depressed for weeks now...it's ridiculous. I'm happy about this divorce, thrilled even! I mean, I threw myself into traffic, overdosed and sliced open my wrist, all in attempts to get away from this guy and his torture...I jumped out of cars and stayed with perfect strangers to get away from him. He tore me apart and played mind games...I didn't deserve it, but...
Why do I still feel like it's my fault? Like I could've done something different, you know? What if I hadn't tried to kill myself in August? Or July? Or May? What if I had done something differently in 2010 that didn't result in the first separation? What if I had left the very first time he hit me? What if I had never met him in the first place? I wish I had never met him. There isn't the tiniest shred of light left in him. I don't know what happened, but he got darker as a person from the time I met him til the time I left. And that brings me to Florence.
There is a song on the album "Ceremonials" that sums it up. It's called "No Light, No Light." It covers it all - the darkness in the other individual, the desperation to try to make it right, the demanding for a resolution from the other person...here are the lyrics:
You are the hole in my head
You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between what I thought
And what I said
You are the night time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you'll start
You're my head
You're my heart
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
Through the crowd, I was crying out
And in your place there were a thousand other faces
I was disappearing in plain sight
Heaven help me, I need to make it right
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You want a revelation
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
Would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done?
And would you need me,
If I told you what I've become?
'cause it's so easy,
To say it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love,
To say it to you alone
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You want a revelation
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation, some kind of resolution
Tell me what you want me to say.
-Florence + the Machine
I'm in love with the song. I need to dance to it. It describes everything, THAT was my relationship. He demanded the impossible from me, I couldn't do it. I did everything I could imagine to make him happy, nothing worked. I finally gave up and just asked what he wanted me to do/say. That didn't even work.
I'm so tired of picking up pieces of things I didn't break.
To tie it all together, I've been skirting my issues for a long time...and it took deciding to wear a skirt for a year and starting a blog for me to figure it out. All this time I thought I was making progress. I used to think that my freakouts and mental deterioration were merely consequences of my life's decisions. I've changed my ways and habits...but I'm still a mess. And that's a lot to swallow when you think that you're all better because you have a few pills and life is pretty tame. This whole healing process hurts, and is uglier than the current state of my eyebrows.
Good night.
See, the reality is, I actually am skirting my issues. In the 4 months that have elapsed since my escape from the hell I sometimes refer to as "marriage," I have conquered very few of my issues. As a matter of fact, I'm getting worse. I cover it up with a red-lipped smile and sparkling, perfectly mascara-ed eyes, and if I didn't tell you that I was crumbling on the inside, you would never know. In fact just this past Tuesday I panicked my way through a church activity that I not only was deemed "team leader" for, but won the challenge against the other team, and then afterwards, was given a new assignment (to be disclosed at a later date) that I was completely unprepared for. It all happened with a smile and a giggle, but if you looked closely, you may have been able to tell that I was having trouble breathing and couldn't stop fidgeting. Or maybe not. I don't know. I do know that no one called me out on it.
So how do I do it? I haven't the slightest idea. I'm really open about my mental health, my anxiety and my PTSD and people admire that but, I'm so calm when I'm talking about it that chances are, they don't believe me.
I know how to analyze my behavior. I know all the right psychobabblejargon to describe myself. I even know my diagnosis number. But what do I do with that information? Sure, I know that when I'm overwhelmed I short circuit and go absolutely crazy. So what? Time after time I prove that I'm useless when it comes to positive coping mechanisms. Why go for a walk when I could just bleed and get it all over with, right? Wrong. I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to be "crazy." I don't want to be reminded of my failures as a daughter, as a sister, as a wife, as a friend, as a person...the only function in life I haven't failed yet is being an aunt. Give it time.
Forgive me if I don't want to hear my sister arguing over the phone with her husband - yes, husband, not ex, not soon-to-be ex (because there isn't even a lawyer involved yet), husband - about who knows what. You know what, I don't care. I'm sorry. I'm trying to reconstruct myself as a person because my husband destroyed me, and you're fighting about diaper rash?
I don't want to do it anymore! I feel like my niece. I want to stamp my feet and scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone "NO!" and to go away. I had the house to myself for a little while tonight...it was blissful. Cupcakes (baking, not eating), some Florence + the Machine, and Bride Day on TLC, and I was happy. Enter my sister, an angry brother-in-law, and a rambunctious niece and the peace was gone faster than a prostitute's morals. I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. I'm so tired.
Therapist thinks the pressure will continue to built until the divorce is over. I hope not. I freaked out a week ago and have been depressed for weeks now...it's ridiculous. I'm happy about this divorce, thrilled even! I mean, I threw myself into traffic, overdosed and sliced open my wrist, all in attempts to get away from this guy and his torture...I jumped out of cars and stayed with perfect strangers to get away from him. He tore me apart and played mind games...I didn't deserve it, but...
Why do I still feel like it's my fault? Like I could've done something different, you know? What if I hadn't tried to kill myself in August? Or July? Or May? What if I had done something differently in 2010 that didn't result in the first separation? What if I had left the very first time he hit me? What if I had never met him in the first place? I wish I had never met him. There isn't the tiniest shred of light left in him. I don't know what happened, but he got darker as a person from the time I met him til the time I left. And that brings me to Florence.
There is a song on the album "Ceremonials" that sums it up. It's called "No Light, No Light." It covers it all - the darkness in the other individual, the desperation to try to make it right, the demanding for a resolution from the other person...here are the lyrics:
You are the hole in my head
You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between what I thought
And what I said
You are the night time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you'll start
You're my head
You're my heart
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
Through the crowd, I was crying out
And in your place there were a thousand other faces
I was disappearing in plain sight
Heaven help me, I need to make it right
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You want a revelation
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
Would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done?
And would you need me,
If I told you what I've become?
'cause it's so easy,
To say it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love,
To say it to you alone
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You want a revelation
You want a revelation,
You wanna get it right
But, it's a conversation,
I just can't have tonight
You want a revelation, some kind of resolution
Tell me what you want me to say.
-Florence + the Machine
I'm in love with the song. I need to dance to it. It describes everything, THAT was my relationship. He demanded the impossible from me, I couldn't do it. I did everything I could imagine to make him happy, nothing worked. I finally gave up and just asked what he wanted me to do/say. That didn't even work.
I'm so tired of picking up pieces of things I didn't break.
To tie it all together, I've been skirting my issues for a long time...and it took deciding to wear a skirt for a year and starting a blog for me to figure it out. All this time I thought I was making progress. I used to think that my freakouts and mental deterioration were merely consequences of my life's decisions. I've changed my ways and habits...but I'm still a mess. And that's a lot to swallow when you think that you're all better because you have a few pills and life is pretty tame. This whole healing process hurts, and is uglier than the current state of my eyebrows.
Good night.
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