Addiction attraction…?

Just crazy about Dan…truly…  Feels odd, feels great, feels scary, feels..dare I say it (??)  almost natural!!!! Which is freaky in itself!

Happily snuggled up with him last night, I started thinking random things…  Like, am I attracted to addicts?  Am I an addict of sorts, albeit nothing illegal?  The same reasons I divorced JP are definite qualities in Dan….  and I could not tolerate them 8 years ago.  Why would they not seem to matter now?  And what are the odds that I would wait so long stuck on DK, just to finally “move on” straight to an addict, of all people?  After my horrible ordeal in two marriages dealing with addictions it turned out I couldn’t deal with after all…?  Is this coincidence?  I just can’t imagine it is…

So many questions and thoughts run through my head….  How much is real and how much is drug induced..  When we laugh – and we laugh a LOT -…I’m really laughing..naturally laughing, without any kind of substance in my body affecting my mind…  Is Danny?  Would he be laughing with me without any substance altering?  Does it matter?  Should it matter? I don’t and have never experienced mind altering substances…. other than alcohol…nor have I ever condoned or approved of the use of such things, although I don’t judge others..my motto is to each his own, just not around me please..or in my home please…  Otherwise, do what you want!

And what about George, my first boyfriend from way back in high school?  He was quite the “stoner” and it drove me crazy because it was a daily thing.  After about 4 years together, it started bothering me and actually impeded my willingness to agree to marry him!  I remember once being really upset at the possibility that perhaps we had never once even had sex together with him not stoned…wondering if we’d ever had a conversation, a laugh, a serious talk, done anything , without him stoned?

Had that same question last night about Danny, as we were laughing so hard and I felt deeply happy within that shared laughter…that thought ran through my mind…

I like to think I’m not nearly as self-righteous or critical as I once was… However, I really question what the heck is going on in my mind…  I know from (repeated) experience that I can’t get through long term with a person who regularly uses any kind of drug, in spite of a good relationship or being happy or respecting the person in all other characteristics…  Why would I even begin something like this knowing…and Danny has been honest about this from the start, so I could never use the ignorance defense.  I’m aware….even perhaps “too” aware for me to be comfortable knowing what I know and not accepting what that usually means for me in relationships….and continuing on…

Yet this thing, whatever it is or isn’t, really does feel organic…as though it just grows and thrives on its own, even if I don’t encourage or feed it. Strangely enough, every time I’ve “ended it” (usually for fear-based reasons alone…and nothing valid that he’s actually done that’s offensive or hurtful), it merely multiplies and grows bigger almost immediately.  Like a plant that you ignore and turn to look at one day and realize it’s thriving even stronger than when you nurtured it…  doesn’t seem possible and yet it really seems to be happening here.  After my last little fear-driven “tantrum”, I promised myself I’d stop pulling that crap and cease giving in to those whimsical thoughts and mountain-out-of-molehill knee-jerk ridiculous responses…also there’s the thought that it just grows bigger and stronger from it anyway, so by doing this, I’m unwittingly feeding it anyway…and then face an even bigger “monster” when i unfailingly return…

Hmmm…so many questions and thoughts…..

Absolute aberration

I experience the full comprehension of the literal definition of a wasted life…  It is when you have placed the highest value, importance, and priority on something which was hardly a fleeting thought to another.  What a sad waste of a life and tragic assisted suicide of a heart this has been.  I realize it will never be a worthwhile thought or experience to another living soul…except perhaps, just perhaps, in the book of “What Not to do in Life”.  It could possibly gain notice in that list, but somehow I doubt that even, as any reasonable human being would consider it as a given and not need to dull lesson of the obvious.  Even there, the experience could be skimmed through or skipped altogether….  How did my life become defined by this ridiculous aberration?  When exactly did it shift to that?  And why in the HELL upon this epiphany, would I allow it to continue feeding on the juice of my life?  Sucking me dry of all things worthwhile or  note-worthy in the slightest?  How is it possible or allowed that my experience, hell my existence itself, is one of complete futility?  This disgusts me.  When (and how?!!??) will that disgust grow strong enough to change it?

As I slowly die,I realize yet again that no other will be held accountable for this murder…  And I don’t really think even that matters any more to me.  That strong passion for right and wrong, justice and accountability…all falls back onto me.  Only I am to blame for allowing this death by slow torturous murder.  I couldn’t possibly point a single finger at anyone else because at the end of the day, it is I alone who must take responsibility for the contual madness…  No one has held a gun to my head in years.  I’ve chosen this..in spite of myself, because of myself…  Although it doesn’t feel like a choice was ever placed in my hands…..I logically understand that it’s my finger on the trigger.  The rest is just words thrown in my direction, giving me step-by-step instructions albeit between the lines…reminding me that it is my fault alone.

I can’t help but wonder lately if I have ever had such a profoundly negative and immensely detrimental effect on another human being merely through my own selfishness, knowingly or otherwise?  I can’t know, except to know factually that if I have, it was sheerly unintentional and unknowing….

I have never played with my food for this long…nor someone’s emotions or quality and quantity of life…  I still feel guilt over saying something hateful once to Theresa ten years ago.

How does any one person become so much?  It is not rational or logical and certainly not sane or “normal”?  And if I have enough wisdom and intellect to see that, then why doesn’t it stop right there?

I was never intended for one-on-one love…it’s all a fluke and an aberration of nature…an absolute train wreck I can’t tear myself away from long enough or far enough to move past…or around..or over…

I pray for forgiveness if I have ever once created this much pain in another living thing for even one moment in time.  Ignorance is no excuse…

No answers

Today my heart was sinking faster than the sun and I drove past two small children sitting in a big easy chair in their front lawn. REmnants of a yard sale I presume.  Their little legs sticking straight out with their tiny feet just dangling past the edge of the cushion…  and I remember being little and the worst thing I could imagine was rain for a baseball game, my sister crying over anything, or my mother not loving me.  I knew the broken heart of the child.  My heart broke every time I wanted to do something more than anything in the world, but was not given permission or the crush I had on the little boy next door who liked my best friend instead.  I vividly remember the pain of those things and feeling completely heart broken.  And now, I looked at those two little kids, sharing the big comfy chair in their yard and what fun that must have been for them and I wished with all my heart that I could just go back for even a minute’s reprieve from the vast brokenness of growing up, the vulnerabilities you have that come with age, wisdom, and fears you didn’t used to know even existed as a child, dangling your feet over a sift chair and giggling.  The security that tomorrow will always be coming, the trust that that’s just the way the world works and the confidence that you never have to think any differently because you’re going to be a child forever….until you grow up, which is so very far away it’s unfathomable.  The only deep pain I knew growng up were the moments that my mother’s lack of compassion, understanding, time, attention, or love were slapped in my face too many times to give me the chance to slip into fantasy world where she did love me.  Aftyer those times, I would sit in my room and write stories about how much my mother loved me and all the hugs and kisses she gave me because I was special.  And in time, I would feel better.  I could almost put myseslf into those stories so well that they became true,- in my openly imaginative mind and the deperation of denial.

I don’t have that luxury anymore.  And instead of my hopes and wishes that I would grow up to be loved by a husband and family of my own; people who would love me every day, not just when other people were present.  The deepest irony of my lot in life is that life has placed me in the very same position I was in as a child.  Ensuring that I never feel the safety and comfort of love I can depend on. Promising me nothing except more insecurity that further serves to make me so difficult to love and respect.

As an adult, I know have some tiny bits of understanding as to why I never got a puppy or a kitten and even why I wasn’t allowed to go to the fair, the carnival or the circus.  And I even understand a little that my mom just didn’t feel developing friendships was what mattered for children and why she chose to inhibit and prohibit that seemingly natural part of childhood.  I understand the beauty of those tiny broken hearted moments which I was fortunate enough to be able to escape with the simple tools of pen and paper and hiding places.  I can think of those sadnesses and smile a little because I almost miss them, as horrible as they seemed at the time.  I would trade so quickly to be my daughter’s age again.  She has a mother who holds her and tries to understand, although sometimes I don’t really because her life is so entirely and drastically different than the childhood I knew.  I love when she is confident that even if I’m upset with her for a minute.  I see the confidence that she knows unequivally that I love her no matter what.  She knows she is wonderful, beaitiful, capable, and loved…no matter what life throws at her.  She has the blessing of that strength and conviction and all the confidence that comes with it.  The confidence that children should be given to grow within from it.

And I am still a child without security, longing for love and respect and compassion from the one person who insists he will never give that to me again.  My worthiness doesn’t matter, my beauty, my abilities, my spirit, the light of my soul…none of it matters because just like my mother he will never choose to love me again, at least not with his heart and maybe not even with his body.  I should somehow find the blessing in that and be grateful for even knowing I once had something so beautiful, but I’m apparently a stubborn, hopeless case who just pines and hurts and waits for the pain to kill me and make the life-long suffering of this very affliction cease once and for all.

I wait and pray.  I write and wish.  I hope and dream. And nothing.  It’s all a twisted repeat cycle only furthering my insecurity becvause now I know that he once tried to love me exactly the way I always prayed and hoped for.  And he does not now and I don’t have the ability to write it all into a happy ending strong enough that my mind can forget for awhile that I’l grown up with the same broken heart and the very same unfulfilled prayer.

Maybe God’s lesson for me is that love should never have been so important to me;that perhaps some of us are not intended to receive it, but just to be gratefulo for the ability to feel it and give it away to others.  I don’t know what God has in mind for me.  I only know that it has never been what I’ve dreamed or prayed for and the chances of that ever changing are almost down to zero due to the circumstances life has placed upon me.

Hex 2: “Receptivity to Love”

Question to I Ching:

What do I need to do regarding my situation with DK?

Answer:

Hexagram 2:” Receptivity to Love:

Your love life is on fertile ground right now. This hexagram denotes “devotion,” “readiness,” and the creative spirit of the Earth. A powerful relationship has begun or is soon to manifest. This hexagram reminds one to be open to the idea of love, as love can come from where you least expect it.  Give and you will receive. Offer a kind word to someone, a hug, a greeting or an offer of assistance. See love for what it is: A conscious act of devotion and a willingness to stand by a special person.  Creativity and the act of creation are referenced here, and creative energies will play an extremely significant role.”

 Thinking if I stay any more “receptive” to him, I’ll begin to take on the characteristics of his garbage “receptacle”!!  Or maybe it’s too late….and I already bear those characteristics…  I already define giving till it hurts and have no further interest in the martyrdom lifestyle that brings me.  Nor does there seem to be a whole lot of Return on Investment.  And martyrs are rarely respected until they actually die for their cause to humanity.  My cause to humanity in this is to cease getting on humanity’s nerves from being a whiney cry baby:-D

Listen to me as though I get nothing in return!  I get everything in huge amounts spread out among tiny small moments!

Facing repercussions today.  Little nervous, but way-laying that by reflecting on how I ever got to this place at all and the madness that holds me here!  Things will be fine.  I know it.  It’s all going according to some greater plan, I’m sure:)

Missing answers to silly questions

Saw him Sunday…went to him again early Monday morning.    Trying to wait to know what is the correct response/stance to take in this situation, but the possibilities are too muddled to have any true idea.

If I could only remove the want for anything but what is readily available and simple in this.  I often feel foolish for this, but it genuinely feels at times like I may as well try to remove the need for food or water from myself and somehow find a way to not only not want sustenance of any kind, but remove that built-in need for such basics.

I don’t suppose I will ever know for certain..until that time when it is already too late…and not making a choice has made my choice and placed me where I’ll remain in the midlle of the consequences for the non-choice choice…  I can pay psychics, pray till I pass out, wish upon stars every night, meditate until the silence in my head is deafening, beg, plead, try to care, try not to care – and at the end of the day, early in the morning and at each point in between, I still have no idea what is best.

Love the only way I know how in the only method that is currently available to me… and pray that a true heart and love itself can conquer all obstacles imposed by negative energies…  Compromising my self respect and morals…

Fight like a warrior to stuff down every desire and impulse I have that loves him naturally, like breathing…and pray that in my painful absence,  his want and need for me might someday grow back to where and what it once was.  Compromising the integrity

of the dreams  my heart has always held onto…

What is the lesser of two completely unwanted options?  Choosing nothing still makes a choice.  Choosingnothing is not even practically possible.  These two choices demand that I go in one direction or another…there really is no “other” option or alternate choice I’ve not considered…  Or if there is, I’m so blind and dumb to it, I’e shut off any ability to conceive of it.  Everything spiritual maintains that answers will come…”seek and ye shall find”…ask and you shall know…  That doesn’t seem to apply here, unless of course again, I am just totally shut down to hearing anything beyond what I want(?) to hear or hope to believe…?

If I could somehow force myself to not desire water anymore, the pain of thirst might  go away in time from that denial, but I’d eventually die of the thirst I wasn’t even aware of any longer.  It does not seem rational that this feels comparable to such a scenario.  It doesn’t feel at all rational and yet it still is exactly what it is.  And telling myself it’s not accurate or valid, doesn’t quell that  distinct and overwhelming sensation that it is the case…

If I move away, then maybe the laws of logic say that it must cease and go away and it is not possible that I would actually die from such missing such a foolish nonsenical thing..just not possible.  That is a foolish and irrational fear that would go  away each die it did not happen.  Do people still die from melancholy of loss and broken hearts?  Does God still answer questions when they are silly and illogical?