Jute’s Stories

I know it’s unhealthy.  I know I should stop, but I can’t seem to make myself.  Maybe if I write about it will help me move past it.

Since that Tuesday night when my world caved in I haven’t eaten hardly anything.  I added it up yesterday and I’ve eaten less in 8 days than I previously did in one.  At first I wasn’t hungry.  The grief and depression dulled any cravings for food, but that eventually passed and I started feeling stirrings again.

However, then something else started happening.  I just refused to eat.  I would feel the hungry, but no need to satisfy it.  In fact it was almost like an odd sort of power trip.

There’s a strange kind of euphoria I’m experiencing.  My life around me is all out of control but I can control this.  I can say whether or not I put a bite of food into my mouth.  Hunger is a primal force, but I can control it.

I also know that part of it is poor self image.  In the years I was with my boyfriend I had gained some weight.  The irony is that women who are happy in relationships do this, study after study shows they gain weight.  I was mostly happy.  And then there was my thyroid out of whack that contributed to the weight gain.

At the moment I feel ugly and horribly unattractive.  I’m not a beautiful woman, but at least I don’t have to be overweight and not beautiful.

So I’m sure part of it is also a weird sort of reaction to that.

I was surprised at how well my energy maintained for so long.  It’s amazing how long we really can go without food.  But this morning I find myself feeling fairly weak.  I know I should walk over to the local deli and get something…but something keeps holding me back.

I just made a couple of odd mistakes here at work, so my mental facilities are definitely not working as well as they should.

I guess it’s time for that walk.

I’ve been through this before. I know that even when you feel like you are going to die from the pain in your heart and soul, you survive and go on. Gradually it fades and life becomes good again.

It’s better every day. I only cried once yesterday and that was brought on completely unexpectedly. One of my friends wanted to show me something she’d done and pulled out a bag with a ceramic plate in it. I burst into tears much to the chagrin of my poor friend.

You see a couple of weeks ago, my ex had painted me a mug at that very place; one with his name and my name and a heart on it. Of course he’d painted it there with her. He’d said he’d done it to show his love for me. I almost smashed that mug the night I found out for sure what was going on.

I’ve always done that, not smashing mugs but erasing people from my life. If a relationship broke up and they were out of the picture, I got rid of everything that ever reminded me of them, even when it was me who did the break up. Sometimes later I regretted that. I would have nothing but my memories of them.

I was tempted to do that this time as well, but I held back. Maybe I can find a place between the pain of looking at things that remind me of him and keeping items that will be good memories.

I laughed yesterday several times, friends on line keeping my mind occupied; helping me to move along, so I know that progress is being made.

But this morning in the wee hours before I woke to get ready for work, I dreamt of him. He held me close again and whispered his love. Telling me how much he’d missed me. I woke with a start and a heavy heart, not wanting to sleep again to feel the pain of that illusion.

Too bad we can’t control our dreams.

That’s when I feel the ache in my heart the most. The heavy loneliness when the room is dark and quiet. I miss the butterfly brush of his lips deepening into passion. I miss the feel of his hands across my skin. But more than anything I miss the quiet comfort of his arms around me.

Funny how sometimes you find a song that perfectly sums up how you feel.  I guess that’s why music is so imbedded into our soul.

Promises in the Dark

by Pat Benatar

Never again, isnt that what you said?
Youve been through this before
An you swore this time youd think with your head
No one, would ever have you again
And if takin was gonna get done
Youd decide where and when
Just when you think you got it down
Your heart securely tied and bound
They whisper, promises in the dark

Armed and ready, you fought love battles in the night
But too many opponents made you weary of the fight
Blinded by passion, you foolishly let someone in
All the warnings went off in your head
Still you had to give in

Just when you think you got it down
Resistance nowhere to be found
They whisper, promises in the dark

But promises, you know what theyre for
It sounds so convincing, but you heard it before
Cause talk is cheap and you gotta be sure
And so you put up your guard
And you try to be hard
But your heart says try again

You desperately search for a way to conquer the fear
No line of attack has been planned to fight back the tears
Where brave and restless dreams are both won and lost
On the edge is where it seems its well worth the cost
Just when you think you got it down
Your heart in pieces on the ground
They whisper, promises in the — dark

This morning has been a bit better.  I know that things will heal that it will take time.  It’s just that space in between the devastation and the healed person that’s rough.

What do you do when you have two people who are not really suited for each other but their lives are intertwined?  That’s the problem with the first rush of love and attraction, you miss the warning signs that this will not work later on.  You want it to work and you really believe that love conquers all.  But, you can love someone and not be able to live with them.  It’s a hard thing, but a fact.

I always thought of us as yin and yang, opposites that worked together.  When in reality it seems, we were just opposites.

In the beginning, the only real things we had in common were computers and gaming.  Even when he did game, we never played together, not really.  When we tried it usually ended up badly.  I guess that should have told me something.  But in reality I just never wanted to see it.  I wanted to believe him when he said he would be with me forever.

I guess forever isn’t as long as I had thought.

Even if we weren’t suited, that doesn’t excuse his behavior.  Why do people cheat?  Why do they look their supposed loved ones right in the face and swear they love them when they are skulking behind their back destroying their relationship?

That’s the part that sticks in me the most.  The lies.

I don’t want to live my life alone.  But I don’t want to get into this kind of situation again.  I have no faith in my own judgment, since it seems I always end up in this space.  So I don’t know what to do.

Not that I have to face that yet.  First what I have to face is that time called ‘healing’.  If I can get through the healing to the healed, then life will be good again.

At least I’ve stopped crying so much. Though I still find my face wet with tears when I least expect it.

I know that most people do not mean to hurt the other person when they start the affair. Usually they aren’t thinking about them at all, other than a brief brush of their mind which is quickly turned to how they can meet or see their new love.

He’s not a vindictive man. In fact, he’s actually very kind. For most of the years we were together he was very good to me. But looking back on things I know he’s been unhappy for a long time. He’s never been good at expressing his feelings, that was one of our issues. Perhaps it was the inequality in our relationship…perhaps it’s just his natural reticence.

I saw the signs and even asked about things, but the answers I received were always that things were fine. He was happy.

I wasn’t happy either. We lived very separate lives for the most part. We rarely did anything together, even the occasional joint trip to the grocery store stopped happening.

Thinking about it, I know we really didn’t have much of a chance. Our age difference was too great and I should have known better than to think an 18 year old would really know what he wanted.

You see we met on the Internet, where everyone is only as old as you think they may be. We have an interesting tendency to believe people are the same age as our own selves. I thought he was older. He certainly seemed very mature. I’m sure he thought I was younger. Eventually, our chats led to deeper feelings and somehow the age thing came up.

When I found out he was just this side of legal, I panicked and pulled away, but in his gentle persistent way he told me it didn’t matter. I already had very deep feelings for him at the time, so I wanted to be convinced and I let myself be. Maybe it was because I’d been hurt so much before and he was ‘safe’.

For awhile it was good. I really believe we had happy times. But things changed and now we are here at this place.

I thought a lot about things yesterday and came to the conclusion that even if he wanted to try again, that it wouldn’t work. He wants things out of life I cannot give him and I need things he cannot be.

See, there I go again… the wet face. Logic tells me that it’s good that it’s over, we can both go on our way to a better life apart, but my heart remembers the times in the dark when his body curled against mine; and the tears come.

How do you put your life back together after it shatters into a million pieces? Last night the life I know fell apart like fragile glass landing on a stone floor.

I’d known for some time there was something wrong. He’d been acting different. Little things that gave me clues there might be trouble in paradise. On the way home from work yesterday a horrid feeling of dread overtook me and I found I couldn’t keep the tears from running down my face. I just knew something was terribly terribly wrong.

You see there was this girl who had been pursuing him. He’d insisted she was no more than a good friend, but there were those subtle changes. He started buying wine and drinking regularly when he’d never been a drinker before. He suddenly became very concerned about his appearance, bought new clothes and started wearing cologne. He was gone all the time. The “I love you’s” were less frequent, the making love just a bit less often. He didn’t lean his body against me after waking or touch me as much. And always there was that girl in the background.

During one of our fights about her, he’d said he’d left the chat logs open so I could read them and feel better. I’d never done it, but one day I thought I’d try and I couldn’t find an easy way to access things, he’d changed that too.

But on the way home last night, I just knew I had to try again. Either banish the specter from my mind or confirm my suspicions.

When I tried, initially I couldn’t access anything, but I work with computers for a living and eventually I found a way. With every word I read part of my heart cracked, until finally it lay there smashed. I wondered for a moment how it could still beat.

I called his cell phone and told him to come home now, that I knew what had been going on. At first he tried a feeble denial, but after I read a few choice passages outloud he stopped.

Waiting for him to get home was an eternity. I couldn’t help but search out more and read all I could find, even as it cut me with every new discovery. He’d said he was going to see his father on Saturday after his birthday, but instead, he’d spent the night with her.

My life as I knew it was over.

At least when he got home he didn’t try to lie any more about it, but in his typical fashion he also didn’t do much. I really believe that he wanted to get caught. That would mean he didn’t have to make a choice. It was made for him.

I asked if he loved her, he said he didn’t know. Tha\’s when I said he needed to find someplace else to stay.

I don’t remember all that was said, except one particular place where he said he was sorry he was the way he was. I got a bit angry then. I told him it wasn’t ‘the way he was’ he chose to do what he did. In that moment, he had a choice and he picked the one that would shatter our relationship.

It makes me angry people don’t want to take responsibility for things like that. You made the fucking choice… live with the consequences.

The very last thing he said to me was that he didn’t know if I would take him back if he decided that was what he wanted. I told him that he’d never know if he didn’t ask, but I didn’t know if I would either and if he asked, he better damn well make sure that was what he wanted.

But I’m not counting on that. I have to go on as if he isn’t going to ask. I’m left now trying to pick up the pieces and move forward. That’s all I can do, one step at a time.

He’d said he was going to see his father on Saturday after his birthday, but instead, he’d spent the night with her.

My life as I knew it was over.

I listened to his words with a sort of strange combination of detachment and trepidation.  I knew lately something had not been right.  When I first started taking the thyroid medication it had helped so much it was amazing, but lately I’d been feeling really tired all the time and not very alert.  That caused me some concern.

I knew I was supposed to get regular follow-ups especially in the first part of my treatment since it was very important to get the dosage of the thyroid medication correct.  But I hadn’t received any.

Today I feel particularly bad.  No energy at all and just a general feeling of malaise.  Over the last several days I’ve slid further and further into this and after the visit with the doctor I’m now more worried about what it means.

He said I needed to get the sonogram and needle aspiration redone.  If the sample was contaminated with blood (which it was) they couldn’t get a good reading on it.  It should have been redone.  I’m not sure why it wasn’t, but after he gets the original lab results he will decide what is next.

In the meantime he is fairly sure my medication dose is way too high and that may be creating the problems I now feel.

So, joy of joys the specter of cancer is back along with a little possible problem called dementia.

Now, I don’t know about anyone else but there are few things that strike terror into my heart more than dementia.  Losing my life I can deal with, losing my mind I can’t.  Luckily, dementia caused by thyroid problems is reversible.  I just don’t want to get to a place it has to be reversed.

So, we start the waiting game again… I have tests I have to do and another doctor’s appointment next week.  In the meantime I’ll try not to worry.  I just wish I wasn’t so damn tired all the time.

I had to close the message to keep the tears at bay.  I was at work and crying here would be difficult to explain.

I only knew her through the message board of the game I played.  Her ready wit had made me laugh often.  She played on a different server than I did and so I had little chance to interact with her.  I don’t know exactly when she changed from just a name on the Official Forum to a person to me, but somewhere along the line it happened and now I felt her pain.

How did it happen?  I’m not exactly sure.  Perhaps it was when she reached out to me with a simple message to ask how I was, never mentioning the struggle I’d gone through with my health, just making me laugh and making sure I knew someone cared if I was okay.

She had recently lost a beloved pet to age and cancer.  Reading about it was very hard for me.  I wanted so much to say something to ease the pain, but just thinking about it caused tears to flow.

I have an old dog too.

There are many people who will never understand the bond some of us feel with our pets and how deeply the loss of them cuts into us.  When we take an animal into our homes and hearts we know their short lives will likely end before our own and death is part of the package.  Nothing lives forever, but knowing that does not make it easier when the time comes.

I felt for her because I knew before long I would have to face the same choice she had faced.  I want my dog to be with me as long as he can, but I don’t want to be selfish and keep him with me when his life is no longer worth living.  Unlike a human, a dog cannot tell me when he hurts too much to continue or when release would be welcomed.  I have to hope that I can read the signs and not have him leave before he is ready or leave him too long in pain.

I knew, though it had been hard for her, my message board friend had made the right choice, but now she had to live without her furry friend.

I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but instead my own fear and reluctance to face the consequences of what would inevitably happen to my own pet, left me unable to say anything worthwhile.

Sometimes things hit too close to home.  She had reached out to me when I was hurting and now I felt I had let her down with my own inability to return the favor.

I have known people who said they lived their life with no regrets.  I however, have many.  I know my own failures too well.