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Thursday, July 11, 2019

Procrastinating the Passing of the Burden

Today, this song means a lot: "Tiny Victories" Christina Perri
but mostly
I'm procrastinating.
Why?
I think "wait to talk with knew neuropsychologist," "sitting with it"
Listening to others is wise and respectful. Especially when they have the professional experience, education and training.
...Yet, it's also why I'm in this psychological thriller of a mess.
Balance can be very difficult at times.
-My right leg is not very balanced still. I feel it when I try to balance on it for exercises at physical therapy. Apparently that is the peroneal tendon's main job, so it makes sense.-
Emotionally, am I balanced?
I am procrastinating, deviating and avoiding.
But it still wakes me up at night and makes me tearful and tired in the day.
It hurts my heart. Figuratively now, not physically, but it hurts enough to make me cry.
Why?
Because I love that guy
I'll be honest.
and also I love the guy who kisses me and tells me he loves me every morning before he goes to work. Even when I am still in bed. Even when I am still sleeping.
I love this man who I live with, that has neglected me plenty, but is here, when I need someone most. When I need love most. He is trying. More than he ever has.
Yet I procrastinate the final and complete severing of the fantasy of the other man, the one who loved me but used me, the one who couldn't be what I needed him to be, my neuropsychologist and therapist or, at very least, real and honest.
And I hurt for my husband, but I still procrastinate...
What I felt was so very real and powerful to me, and that part is fed by refusal to confront the reality of what it may have been: simply fantasy, a perfect storm, mistakes, and/or a manic and broken mind fed.
I do well with talking things out. I do well with honesty. I do not do well with coverups and I am maybe tired of sacrificing my needs to protect others. In this situation, I was not given a choice. At first it felt as though I was, but it was manipulation and their self preservation. I was not given a compromise. It was his way AND the highway.
You would think that would be enough, to kill what I feel, but it adds to me the confusion of pity for him and for me.
And it's effecting me, in all aspects, even though I don't let it, it still is.
I'm tied to this.
I say "this would be so much easier to forget and get over if I had no lingering TBI symptoms. If I didn't still need their medical experience and expertise." I say this because it is the sad truth and my reality ...that I wish to deny and avoid often.
It breaks my heart and I don't know who to turn to because they have been managing this for me, they are supposed to be the ones I can turn to for answers. They were supposed to be my safe place, my care.
Lost faith in the medical industry, faith that was already shaky at best, but I was at least willing to trust, those in power, those in authority. ...
God.
That is the only place left to turn
but He was talking to me in the midst of this, so now, what do I do with that?
It's a predicament to be in
and I am struggling to keep my head above water... I know this because the water is still bailing out through my eyes so regularly and so frequently.
And he, who may have caused this or at least abandoned me in this, he is immune.
And strangely that brings me some comfort. There can be comfort in that, if I really do care for him. I suppose that is okay.
But is it? If he is employed to be the cure?
Or am I sacrificing my needs for what I don't understand and for what may actually be hurting others as well? Cyclical thinking.
A trap.
And how do I get out now?
pass the burden on to those whose job it is to handle that.
...I see my husbands face kissing me in the morning. I hear the echo of his voice from months ago, sweetly and sincerely telling me he knows there might be someone better suited for me and he would love to see me have that... yet, as he sits with it for a moment, he follows his comment with "but I think I might be too selfish." He doesn't want to loose me. I am worth his time and investment.
And he is worth mine.
...And this realization may have been the very thing that broke my neuropsychologist. Maybe that is the basic truth to all of this.
So -full of gratitude and sorrow- I procrastinate the passing of this burden on to those whose job it is to decipher.




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