anxiety, go with a flow, happiness, life, mind, panic, problems, reality

Problems versus Common Sense

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I was having fun coloring dragons with fluorescent pencils when Greg came into the room. He looked stressed.

 – My sister is disputing my mom’s will, – there was bitterness in his voice

 – What are you gonna do?

 – I will give her what she wants and will never talk to her again.

 – Talk to your lawyer

 – No, Vixen.

 – Really? – I put the pencils aside and raised my head from the coloring book.

 – I am not going to court, hon.

 – Court is not be necessary, there are ways out. You may settle it through mediation. Have your lawyer deal with it.

 – I said, NO.

 – And you are ready to cut ties with your only sibling without even trying to negotiate?

 – Absolutely, – Greg was mercilessly rigid. Talking to him felt like talking to a wall.

 – I will fix you dinner, – his attitude caught me off guard. My motivation to proceed with coloring was gone.

I went into the kitchen and stood frozen in front of the refrigerator trying to gather my thoughts and figure out ingredients for potato salad.

Clearly, we all act weird, we make irrational decisions, and run away trying to escape problems.

We are just people who do everything possible and impossible to save the pride at any cost.

Criticized at work? – Quitting

Caught your partner with someone else? – Permanent separation or divorce

Struggles at school? – Immediate withdrawal

Facing own problems with the bitter understanding that we are powerless to fix them is sometimes harder than surviving a hurricane. The pain from the hurt ego is thousand times worse than passing kidney stones. Those who decide to fight own demons lose themselves in the endless battle with personal fears, phobias, and traumas.

You can rarely see someone that quietly accepts this life without hysterical fight or flight attempts. Someone who does nothing about life kicks, allowing chaos to settle and conflicts to resolve. Someone who turns the mind off and floats through the reality curiously observing emerging and disappearing events, people, and problems.

Most people think that going with a flow is passive and lazy. They would rather fear or suffer than let things take care of themselves. People are used to acting, resisting, and escaping. People are used to perceiving life as the never-ending struggle with pain, winners, and victims. Living in the permanent hysteria of moving, searching, and burning bridges is the only way for most of us to exist. Common sense is not that common.

I suddenly felt Greg was standing behind me and turned around.

 – Don’t bother, luv. I’ve ordered Chinese food and talked to my attorney. He will contact my sister on Monday about the will.

 I gave him a smile. I felt relieved from cooking and cleaning and ready to resume coloring my dragons.      

 

anxiety, broken heart, control, dating, relations, feelings, depression, feelings, happiness, health, mind, reality, sugar

Depression, Anxiety, Self-Acceptance and Unwillingness to Change

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I am learning to accept myself the way I am. I see my therapist twice a week. I know better now.

  • I am unwilling to change, – I am beautiful the way I am. A few extra pounds mean a sexy curvy body, drinking is a way of relaxation, cleaning, cooking, and attending to males’ needs sound like relentless abuse and male privilege. You gotta realize I won’t allow you to take advantage of me any longer.

 

  • You should accept me for who I am, – I am not bending to anyone’s needs, just take it or leave it. You have problems? You are not a little boy, I am not your mommy, find ways to deal with your stress.

 

  • You cannot judge me, you have no idea what I went through – you should be empathetic, respectful, and caring, you should be here for me when I need it; otherwise, I have nothing to do with you.

 

  • You gotta earn the privilege of being with me. You are the luckiest person in the world since I am here for you, love me the way I am. Like I previously said, do not try to change anything, it is not going to happen, – if you prefer a sex-appealing calorie-counting chick who substitutes dinners for gym workouts, do it, I will get over it, I deserve the real man.

 

  • You gotta change diapers, stay up all night, and spend weekends grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning. Relationship is partnership, don’t you know? And yes, this is your kid too, learn to combine your 60-hour week work schedule with being the father. You can’t? I am done with being exploited, I am leaving.

 

  • I am strong and independent, – your attempt to turn me into an underweight stay-home sperm dumpster is abuse and domestic violence. My therapist told me this, like I said, I see her twice a week.

 

  • Are you horny? Seriously? I am not an object, I deserve to be valued for my beautiful heart and soul, – watching porn at night and looking at other women is not acceptable. I am not swallowing sperm and disrespect. I am leaving now, you will regret.

 

  • The day you got me a new vacuum cleaner and a multifunctional blender was the final drop in the bucket. I am not putting up with your power and control issues any longer. My attorney will contact you as regards child support and alimony.

 

  • It is really hard to find a really nice guy, but I will I know. While looking for the prince charming, I will keep mixing alcohol with anti-depressants and anxiolytics. I will keep soothing my depression and anxiety with prime rib, tears, and cheesecake around my slightly obese, slightly depressive, and slightly anxious girlfriends.

 

Like I stated before, I gotta accept myself the way I am, I am not willing to change, I see my therapist twice a week, I know better now.

affection, anxiety, bi-polar, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, feelings, happiness, intimacy, life, love, mind, obsession, personalities, psycho, relations, sex, sugar

In Love with Bipolar

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I loved him manic. I loved his eyes with feverish glimmer, his excessive sensuality, his maniacal desire to be around and hug, and kiss, and snuggle.

“Remember Vixen, it’s not him, it is just his manic episode”, – my inner voice was coldly rational, mercilessly commonsensical.

 – I love you Vixen, – his fingers running through my hair, smile on my face, eyes closed, butterflies in the stomach.

Everything about him felt too much: too sweet, too warm, too gentle, too caring, too awesome.

His prolonged gazing into my eyes felt powerfully penetrating. I was in love with his manic sensuality.

 – Do you want a hug my dear? – I kept nodding YES, YES, YES, feelings shivers down my spine and warmth between the legs.

“It is just his manic episode,” – I wish my gut feeling were wrong, but I knew the intuition did not fail, I knew I was right, I knew it was not entirely him, I knew there will be the end, the flipside is coming.

Making love to him felt overly emotional. He was very passionate, loudly orgasming, tears in the eyes, his body covering mine.

 – We are the perfect match, Vixen. I love you.

He held me in his arms all night, waking me up with thousand hugs and kisses.

He taught me to laugh and cry when expressing myself in intimacy.

– You are the princess, this is how you should be always treated.   

Wake up, it is just the manic episode”, – I was shaking my heard trying to get rid of the inner voice, I was in heaven, I did not want to know any further.

 – Please stay, do not leave, take a day off, I need you here, – I saw sadness in his eyes as I started packing my suitcase. The weekend was coming to the end, I had errands to run prior the start of the new week, – please stay, you can drive to work from here, I really want you.

 – I gotta go my dear, I need some paperwork to finish…

  – Please stay

  – I can’t, – he kept me up 3 nights, I felt exhausted, I needed to go back home and get some sleep.

 – You can, just stay, just be here, – his physical warmth was sincere and seductive, I gave in.

The Monday morning started with a headache, redness in the eyes, and immense fatigue. I was taking a shower trying to wake up when I heard him opening the curtain. – Can I take a shower with my princess?

 I could not do it, I was in a hurry, he was fresh and excessively passionate. Staying up all these days and nights did not get him tired.  – I will take you to Italy and Spain, just tell me when, and I will book the flights.

 – I am sorry, I gotta get ready for work

 – Croatia maybe?

 – Please, – losing the job was not something I could afford.

 – Maybe England, what does my princess want?

I had to leave, he had a flight of ideas. “It is the manic episode, just a manic episode”, – he was holding me close under the running water, he was insatiably affectionate, I was exhausted and cranky.

 – Vixen, please, do NOT leave.

 – I gotta go.

His texting and calling were excessive for the next couple of hours, waning gradually by the afternoon. I felt physically and mentally broke throughout the day; I really did not care that he did not call or text “Good night, honey” in the evening, I was tired and sleepy.

Quiet Tuesday, quiet Wednesday, quiet Thursday, quiet Friday, no show – no call.

It was the manic episode, he is back to his depressed self, you won’t hear from him for a while”, – my inner voice was right.  He disappeared entirely, I slowly returned to my normal routine.  The first couple of weeks were tough. Surviving the mental withdrawal from the happy romance fairy-tale was painful and self-destructive.

He is bi-polar, unstable, alcohol-induced, and benzos-driven, he will be up and down all the time”. – I knew that, I accepted that, I had to move on.

2 months later he called me back, wanting to meet, submerging me in love, passion, and flights of ideas.

 – I love you Vixen, – he was gentle and generous, loving and giving.

 – My dear…, – I paused trying to find the appropriate word, almost knocked out by his charm and excessive sexuality, – I love you… I love you so much in your manic episode.

 

 

 

bi-polar, control, crazy, fears, feelings, happiness, health, life, mind, obsession, panic, personalities, power, psycho, reality

Ignore Your Mind Games, Just Live

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 – I am tired of your games, – Jim was angry, I was quietly snacking on a pine apple.

Split personality, getting through my days under endlessly changing masks; altering the thought process based on the day of the week, on the frequency of sugar intake, and on the degree of the body dehydration. That was my way of living.

 – You are bi-polar and seriously psychotic, don’t you see? – Jim looked pissed. I kept licking the pine-apple juice off my fingers.

Unlike myself, Jim’s perception of the reality was consistent. His mindset was consistently locked in the world of profit and loss statements, dull numbers, and endless money-making. He was unable to grasp any diversion from the linear buying-cheap-selling-high approach.-

If you hate chaos, why are you still with me?

 – I like you, Vixen. I can be your sugar daddy, all I ask is your consistency, – He obviously loved what he called “craziness” and “psychosis”, – you need therapy and medication.

 – My therapist told me what you did to me when we met is rape.

 – Change your therapist, she is an idiot.

He was insistent on my mental diagnosis and on my inability to survive without his pervasive interference in my life.  – I am the most normal person you have ever met, Vixen. You have no idea how lucky you are that I am around. You are a very poor judge of character; people that you choose are really weird.

 – I know. – With time, I learned how to deal with my mind games; I knew that my mind gets me down throwing me into deadly hopelessness every Monday morning, every weekend without Greg, every failed job interview, every time my expectations do not match the reality.

The mind could spin relentlessly, sinking me in despair. I knew when panic attacks will return, I knew exactly what they will be about. I knew the first signs of mania, I knew when and how I will be kicked out of euphoria straight into the gloom and doom of the depressive episode.

At first, I was searching for the triggers to catch, to prevent, to cope, then I got bored and stopped wasting my time on digging into the crap of childhood traumas and heart-breaking love stories. I got tired of reacting to endless mind dramas, the mind repertoire was limited, dull, and nauseously primitive. I just kept doing what needed to be done without reacting to the hysteria of the tiny tape-recorder in my head.

I knew I was cuckoo, I did not care.

Jim was cuckoo too, he was stuck in solely one reality that his mind kept creating for him throughout his life. Fixated on success, unable to share, and mercilessly using others, he continued suffering every time his obsession with power and control broke against common sense. He kept picking up the tiny pieces of his illusions of strength and dominance, trying to clue them together and resume control, repeating the same break-and-repair insanity cycle over and over again.

 – Vixen, how many personalities do you have? I counted at least six.   

 – Millions or billions, whatever the mind creates, but I do not bother….

 – Why? – dark eyes, black hair, and Italian background, he was hot and charismatic, at least this is how my mind wanted me to perceive him.

 – I do not care because I do not exist, you do not exist either. And it really does not matter what the mind will want us to see and to feel as long as we use the mind as a tool, and we do not allow it to use us instead.

 

dating, relations, feelings, feelings, life, love, mind, relations, sugar

When The Mask falls, and You Start Seeing the Real Person

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Greg texted me when I was in bed that night. – Are you home? May I come over now, babe?

I looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. Something must have happened, he only contacted me when he felt bad or needy.

As soon as I texted, “Sure”, he knocked on the door. Impatient, selfish, and ready to use me as a battery to jump start.

 – Aren’t you supposed to ask first and then get into your car and drive here?

 – I actually asked prior knocking, – he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.

 – Do you want anything?

 – How are you?

I sat next to him and reached out for the TV remote; he smelt like hospital and sweater.

 – Maybe water?

 – Just chill, Vixen.

 – How are you?

 – Had to go in for an emergency, same crap. I am lonely. I can give you a massage in your bed if you like…

I looked at him in amazement. It was the first time I heard him talking to me like this; no toughness, no selfishness, no introversion.  He was normal, unusually normal, surprisingly normal. It was weird.

 – You’ve never talked to me like this before Greg. You sound like you have feelings.

  – Of course, I do. You just never listen. All you care is my cock.

 – Of course, I love your cock.

 – Is this the only thing you care about? – He kept staring at the TV screen.

  – Are your kids ok?

Yes

 – How is Emy?

 – My wife is fine.

 – Is there anything I can do to help?

 – Yes, sit here and be quiet.

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders. It was late, the TV show was stupid, his behavior was strange.

 – How are you dealing with her panic attacks, Vixen?

Wow, he never inquired about my wellbeing before. I could not believe my ears.

– Struggling.

 – You should start taking medications.

 – No, – I kept looking into the TV screen in fear that once I glance at him, he will shut down, and turn into the Greg I had always known – tough and unbreakable, cold-mind and hot cock.  – I am not taking any meds, my dear. It is the sign of weakness. I am strong.

Bullshit, I took meds before, they helped a lot.

 – How?

 – I had to use Sertraline to function when my mom passed away.

 – I am sorry about that.

 – Watch TV, be quiet.

I suddenly realized the Greg I used to know never existed. The image of the cool and tough guy with no feelings and constant erection collapsed, I finally saw the real person, vulnerable, insecure, with a bunch of complexes carefully hidden behind silence, surgical cleanliness, and the desire to bend others and toss them after like used paper napkins.

I stood up ready to go to sleep. I needed some rest prior another work day.

Wait, where are you going? – he kept watching the show.

Bedtime.

 – I want you here with me, – he was still talking to the TV screen not bothering to look in my direction.

Unfold the bed, and I will sleep here.

 – What?

 – It’s a pull-out couch, it converts to a sleeper.

I was watching him struggling with dragging the bed frame down to the floor when I returned from the bedroom with pillow cases and a comforter. My perception changed, he was a human being, smelling like steak and steamed vegetables, waiting for another promotion, arguing with his wife about disciplining the children, and fighting his belly fat. Feeling his hands all over me while falling asleep that night was different. He was neither better nor worse than anyone else; the magic was gone, he felt and tasted real, just live and real. It was the new Greg, the one I had never had a chance to get to know before, the Greg that had nothing to do with the picture that was previously created in my head.