My emotions are everywhere this morning. I feel grateful that the jumping beans didn’t get going till 6 am. I got a reasonable amount of sleep. Thank you Lorazepam–you’re my only hope. (These are the last 2 pills from a prescription I got last spring. I use these suckers sloooooowly because they are far more habit forming and harmful than pot.)

So now I’m on my own for a few days. Cue sobbing soundtrack.

I have all the feelings this morning. Noah calls pot my apathy enhancement drug and he’s not wrong. A lot of my problem in life is that I just care too much about everything and everyone. I’m not… I’m not good at being in neutral. I LOVE or I hate. There isn’t that much in the middle for me. It is rare for me to kinda like or kinda dislike something. I’m brutal. I’m all the way.

Part of the reason I went on the road trip was because I wanted to pull taut the strings in my life and see which ones held.

I’m seeing.

It hurts.

I thought… I thought I would keep some of the people who have wandered off. If I sent a whole stack of postcards and presents and letters to people and I still haven’t heard from them… they are done with me.

So today I have this feeling that I wasted so much time and energy on people who didn’t actually love me at all and that hurts.

I’ll get over it. A shit ton faster than I’ve gotten over my family. I don’t still cry about all the losses of friendships in my life. I’d never stop crying.

I don’t even cry over Brittney anymore. She was my best friend for thirty years.

In the end I wasn’t someone she wanted in her life. I don’t act right. I don’t leave skeletons in the closet. I don’t deny who is a cheating bastard. I call it like I see it. That means you lose friends when their life depends on their ability to “not see” bad things that are happening near by.

I’m not big on “slow fades” but we’ve been home long enough and I’ve sent enough feelers out that I think it is time for me to recognize that a whole bunch of people I thought I was close with… no not so much. I’ve been home for almost two months. I contacted them. I invited them to things.

I need to let go. I just removed people from the google group if they haven’t acknowledged me in 9+ months.

You don’t want to be in my life. That’s ok. I need to stop looking for you. I need to stop hoping for you and that is so hard.

I live my life in this state of hope. Surely I will find more people to love and some of them will love me. Sometimes I think that is the thing that has kept me alive through so much horror. I have this deep part of my soul that cannot be convinced I am out of love to give.

I don’t know why I love you all so much. Even the people I am really angry with. Even the people I want to scream, “Go away!” I say that because I don’t like how you are treating me. No because I don’t want to love you.

I… I’m not in a place where people can treat me however they like to treat people and that’s good enough. I’m brittle and fragile and oh so specific. It is hard to learn how to be around me without hurting me.

It’s part of that whole ‘trigger warnings’ thing that bugs me so much. It is excruciatingly hard and it takes years for someone to learn how to not trigger me. Noah is still struggling to learn. I have so many triggers. So many things flip a switch in my head so that I feel like there are emergency sirens screaming, “Die you worthless whore. Die. Die. Die. Die.”

I know that frequently I am the problem. The only way out of being the problem I have ever been able to devise is either disappearing or dying. I can’t disappear any more.

I can’t password lock my journal. Why? Because then I won’t be able to find the other incest survivors. I need to be able to find them. That is what I am going to do with my life.

Once I finish growing up.

That means I need to stand in a place where bullies can see me. I don’t like standing here. I’ve kinda been a target enough in my life. But if I want to find the incest survivors… I’m going to need to be a target. It scares me something fierce.

So many people are going to want to hurt me. I know I’m being overly paranoid about the troll witches. They aren’t actually hurting me. I “know” I am reacting out of proportion to what is happening right now.

I’m reacting like this is part of everything that has happened and everything that will happen. I’m acting like it isn’t an isolated event because for me it isn’t. It is… kinda normal.

Why do I respond with such hostility? Because I have learned that the low level bullies retreat when I do that and I need to have that much of a buffer. Does it make me easy to deal with? No. But sometimes being easy isn’t my goal. Sometimes striving for easy just means you are easier to hurt.

I was interrupted for breakfast. Now it’s time to walk to the farmers market.

I’d like to write a whole long thing about how awesome married sex is, but I don’t have time.