- I seem pretty put together. I'm a fucking wreck. The other day I couldn't be left alone because I was afraid of what I wanted to do to myself. I took S into the bathroom and I told her, "I can't be around people right now, but I don't want to be left alone." We had two hours left with the kids and she knew just what to do.
- I appear self confident. I think others are talking about me sometimes... when clearly, they aren't. I'm paranoid. It's part of it. I apologize too much. Sometimes this means I don't talk at parties or social events, even if I *am* properly taking my little pills... and sometimes this means that others can perceive me as snobbish or rude or bitchy. I am just not so self confident.
- I starve myself so that I cannot feel anything. Somehow I forget to eat. Somehow I know I'm supposed to eat, like, "Hey Elle do you want to have breakfast now?" I say, "Sure..." then I get going in a million other directions at the same time. I starve myself because I don't think I deserve to eat.
- And let's talk about deserving... I don't deserve my pills, so I don't buy them. Which is why I'm in the spot I'm in right now. Nearly immobilized with panic, on the crash pad couch, tears streaming down my face... waiting for S to return so I can feel safe again. I feel so fucking stupid. I know better. I fucking KNOW better.
- I worry about when S will realize that I am not good enough for her. Good enough. Good enough. Good enough. I have a good enough syndrome. And it's getting fucking old. I'm sick of it. What if S gets sick of it? What if she can't handle me? What if she can't handle this shit? It's not easy having a
girlfriendwife who cannot even drive herself to the goddamn shrink's office. It's not easy loving someone who crumbles to tears because she cannot figure out the new prescription benefits on the new insurance plan.
- I have cut myself to make myself feel something. I have a hard time seeing that in writing. But there it is. I write it because I know some woman might be reading this, and she may cut herself too, in order to "feel"... and well... I don't want her to feel alone. I think it's the same reason why sometimes I HAVE to HAVE "fuckmetakemeharderlikethatfuckmelikeyoumeanit" sex. Because I need to feel. I need to feel human. I need to feel inside my body. When I have sex like that, though, I can feel another person close to me... at least...
To my friends who are reading this... if I have friends who are reading this... I am safe tonight. S knows how I'm feeling. We are communicating, always, openly, lovingly, and honestly.
I just need people to know. I have a Dirty Little Secret. Mental illness should not be a dirty secret. I take medication. When I don't, I get sick. I'm sick. Right now, I feel pretty sick actually. I am embarrassed that S is seeing me this "sick."
We got married again tonight. We "marry" each other every time we have a talk about our love, our plans for the future, and our promises for commitment. Tonight, I reminded her that we are both in this for the long haul. Not just for the happy, feel good times. But for the "in sickness" times too. All I really ask of her... all I really want... is to be able to count on her. I want to be safe.