Days like this I struggle…

Starts off with being over-tired. I generally pay attention to my sleep requirements. I’m very sensitive to lack of sleep. It leaves me moody, anxious, irritable. It precipitates migraines. I forget what I’m doing or am supposed to do. Sometimes I fear this is a form of early Alzheimer’s.. Such a dreadful and indignant disease. But I know it’s from lack of sleep.

I should be sleeping now, but can’t keep my nose out of my iPad. More specifically these blogs. There are so many. And I keep finding new ones, some just recently started. Some older that I’ve never read thru. That’s usually what I do though.. When I find a new blog I read it from the beginning… So much betrayal… Hurt… Destruction. I wonder if there’s a limit to how much I can read before I stop. I’m not sure what reading these stories feeds in me, but there’s something.

I know it’s validating, to feel like a blog post could have been written by me, because I can generally relate to what that person is saying. And I can relate to almost every blogger I read and follow. So I’m learning too. Exactly what I don’t know. But I do know that I’m not always wrong. What I feel is real. I’m not loosing my fucking mind. You all feel it too…

Just because my husband says, “You shouldn’t” feel (a particular way…) as he often would, when I tried to explain how, what and/or why I was feeling insecure, afraid, suspicious, hurt, betrayed blah, blah… I’ve long since stopped trying…

“Well perhaps Darling, I shouldn’t feel it. but I do. It’s me, who I am and it’s what I feel. They are after all my feelings. You cannot tell me how I should or should not feel.”

I  haven’t strayed to far off the topic of infidelity. Why most of you are reading likely reading my blo…Affairs, betrayal. The heap of shit that comes after DDay… That I metaphorically speaking, am buried in. Big fucking pile of warm reaking shit.

What I really should be doing is sleeping. Because it does make a difference to my mental well-being. Last night I was on call. I Work from home as a triage nurse. Occasionally it requires me to make house calls. I got to go on sort of rescue mission. The scheduler in the office missed a major appointment with a sick youngish fellow just discharged home from knee replacement and osteomyelitis. He’s a sick man. Fragile.

His wife called at 8:45 to inquire about when a nurse was visiting. They expected one at 8 pm. There was noting in his chart but a referral note. That noted the patient’s trepidation at having visiting nurses, as previous experiences had gone poorly. I could hear anxiety and frustration in her voice. Someone missed something. I called the manager on call, who is also a friend. She had a little more info but we agreed I needed to go start this mans antibiotic infusion. So off I went to the rescue. I was able to redeem my employer and ease the anxiety of a new customer. It all worked out… But it led to a pile of work that I didn’t “plan on” and I didn’t get to bed until almost 2, and then read a civil war short story history book for 30 min or so.. To shut my mind off and fall sleep… Because it never seems to stop… My work phone rang again at 3:15 am. I was up about a half hour and then went back to sleep… For a few hours. I’ve been up since just after seven. Curled up in a blanket reading blogs and now rambling away in my own post. When I really should be sleeping.

Even if I went to bed, I’d be thinking and drafting this all in my head, so I guess that’s why I’m rambling… Just to get it out. Some of “it” . There is so of it that needs to get much shit that I’ve just ignored for years. I’ve put up with so much utter bullshit. I still am.

It’s all so different now though. I don’t think I love him enough to put up with all the daily bullshit. Not anymore. Even when I first found out about him cheating, the little things I overlooked; the family and marital annoyances, like toothpaste covers and who cleans the cat boxes, which I begrudgingly do, 90% of the time… The dirty cloths pile he leaves in his corner, and wet towel draped over the foot board. All those little things that I just overlooked because it’s just what I do. Now every time he leaves something out-of-place it’s like a little pinprick, reminding me how totally unappreciative he is, how selfish and lazy he truly can be. How he really doesn’t care what I think or feel. He doesn’t even try to. But this isn’t new behavior… He’s always been like this. And he’s so passive. Avoids issues until they go away. And by default, I did too. I wasn’t always like this. But I’ve become passive, passively happy enough…  accepted his way of dealing with our issues, which was, by avoiding them… Look where it got us.

Now I question most everything about us and our relationship, from the very beginning. Both my husband and “the other woman… ” (I’m not feeling “mouse” anymore… Today I’m feeling whore, skank, slut, fucking ego-stoking  cum slot (sorry if I offend… My blog, my words)… Both told me to “not rewrite history and make the affair more than what it was.”.

I’m not sure what purpose her advice served. I suspect it made her feel better about herself… it means nothing to me. But from my husband, all I can think is that I didn’t rewrite it. History is what it is.. In the past as you say.. But I’ve only known six months. I’ve become informed and enlightened now, of a history that I was denied, and still am. So many things I missed and avoided, tolerated. Because it was all a part of loving him… hindsight is the only clear perspective I have these days.

The future looks so uncertain. But it doesn’t frighten me.  Right now it just overwhelms me. I feel stuck, in the same miserable pattern that we always resort to. It’s not enough anymore. I don’t think I want to live my life with mediocrity. Happy enough isn’t enough anymore.

I just don’t know what to do yet. Or even how to get to a point of figuring it out. I do know that I’m not going to figure it out in the next few hours. So with that I’m going to nurture my weary mind and broken heart and take a nap.

So please overlook the rambling nature of this post… I’m exhausted and don’t want to rethink it. So not much editing either.


3 thoughts on “Days like this I struggle…

  1. Ramble on girl! I know I did this past weekend. Our brains need a break once in a while or I fear they will implode. Hugs and sleep to you at least for a little while.


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