I'm tired as we are driving back to our Airbnb in Cozumel. I feel a bit forlorn, maybe just because I am tired. I am not thinking about things. I am enjoying this vacation. It is the Christmas and Birthday presents I surprised my husband with. He deserves this vacation, especially considering the shit I have put him through this last year, so I have made it that, vacation for him; committed to letting it be whatever he wants. And mostly I have done well with that.
...but tonight, with 3 nights left I feel a touch sad. This alternate reality is going to end and I feel a little lost.
... I think about what I am going to do when I get home and
I think I have lost myself.
I wonder who I am.
Then my husband says something about staying here and how it is so much less lonely here. I feel that too and I am glad I am not the only one, but I also know I would probably have the same problems here.
I apologize to my husband for not being able to keep friends and he says rather quickly and bluntly that they are all ... not going to repeat his choice of words but it made me cry ... probably with gratitude that he does not blame me and he appreciates me. It also makes me cry because I don't want to go home to the cold state that I live in. I don't belong there.
...but then again
Where do I belong?
and who am I?
I am lost.
and yet I am not sure a person can be lost if they never really belonged anywhere.
So I am not sure I have ever really known who I am in this moment.
I thought I had it. For a brief moment in time I thought I knew who I was and I was finding me...
...but then it was mania.
and then denied by the very people who are supposed to know and the one place in the world that felt safe, calm, and like home to me.
So the denial confused me
it then meant I was the forbidden fantasy of the very person I needed most.
And I did need him
he was helping me find me
...but once again I found myself with
a person I loved and needed not able to handle me.... And I was sure he could... if only he would try.
So I was the forbidden fantasy of the man who was finding me and helping me to see that I could be me, loved, and I could love me.
...but...
in reality I know it is/was not a forbidden fantasy - rather he told me things in a way that left it open to interpretation, implying what he thought might help me but more importantly what would protect himself while getting him out and away from me -from the fantasy he knew he should not have played with, but too late.
so what am I?
A toy?
to my husband now?
to get back at him; my transference that betrayed me? A toy to my husband to try and break free of the those manic meaningful moments where I knew I was no longer my husbands or even my own person but his. These ideas solidly reinforced by too many months and too many games played with my broken mind by the him and the Institute that protects him.
This is what happens when therapists play with their very fragile and vulnerable patients. This is what happens when the people we need, who we love and trust, use us as play things and then discard us.
It is not well and good. It is not fair. It is very very wrong. If it is mistake, play fair and fix it, but they don't. They lie and hide because you are never the only one and you are not so special; it is their game.
And people back at home say shit like "what are you trying to do?"
Well,
I am fighting for my husband.
I am trying to get my head straight
and to set the record straight
and I am also speaking out against a man who played with me
and then made a mess of things when it came to getting the help I needed
or -to cover his ass and tracks- he manipulated me so that I would make a mess of things in trying to get the help I needed.
I am bringing this to light, because if that is what it was, it needs to be brought to light and addressed.
I am trying to set the institution straight
that kept this nonsense going for far too long when I was trusting them to be the medical providers they are supposed to be. When I was begging for help in my oh-so-put-together way while I was so incredibly broken, unstable, and vulnerable but refusing to be that or a victim. When I was crying for help because my brain was and is literally broken and it was being missed and dismissed.
I am speaking up and out against the doctor that messed things up by not ordering tests that would have shown the damage and injury and other anomalies in the first place.
Maybe, had they done their jobs and due diligence Dr. He would not have played with me the way he had. Maybe. but still, he did, and that needs to be addressed.
I am crying out for the misunderstood of mentally ill and the TBI, and the people who genuinely try.
I will not relent.
I cannot
because to loose one's mind is a scary thing and trying to find and/or hold yourself together while going through it is immensely difficult and should not be so discredited and dismissed
especially by those who are supposed to help
and could benefit from that kind of knowledge, experience, and ability to do just that.
That is what I am up to,
my fair weather friends,
this is what I am up to...
...and maybe I am not so lost after all. Maybe I am exactly who I need to be and where I need to be, Maybe I really am finding me.
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