FRESH INK

Apr. 27th, 2022 03:13 pm
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Well it has been a long time but I finally find myself once more in a tattoo studio awaiting some fresh ink. I am very excited. The last time I got a tattoo was when Keenan and I got our matching lock and key. We had been watching Ink Master together and saw a challenge involving couples and complimentary tattoos and then we really wanted to get one ourselves. I think we were about 2 months into our relationship when we came up with the idea. We were just short of five months in I think when we actually got them. A lock over my heart and a key over his. Like crazy kids but we were 26 and 28. We knew though. And that sureness is what I took away from Keenan when I looked for love from someone else. After we decided we were going to stay together, work things out, he said he just needed to be sure that he was really the one that I wanted to be with for life, and I needed to show him that. Well, this is what I came up with. A tattoo. Jack and Sally, us, in a coffin with our wedding date, signifying that this marriage is for life, and that I choose him. My artist I picked was booked 5 months out but the day has finally arrived! My appointment is in 10 minutes, so by the time anyone reads this I'll already be under the needle. Or done. I am nervous. I always hate the pain of tattoos. But I am excited. I am about to have a permanent reminder in my skin of my devotion to the choice I made and need to continue to make every day. Hopefully this will be sufficient proof for him, and an everlasting reminder for me. I can't ever let him slip back onto the back burner. And it's fitting that the next tattoo I get should also be for him. After all we've been through together and everything I've put him through, he's still here. That should be proof enough for me too.

SPRING

Apr. 14th, 2022 05:28 pm
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I have always found that the easiest way for me to put my feelings/emotions/mental state into words is by using extended metaphors. And various other similies and metaphors within those extended metaphors. That being said, here I go again. After I destroyed Jesse's marriage and very nearly destroyed my own, I felt like I shattered, and then detonated. There were so many things I thought I was so sure of before all of that happened, then after it did, I basically realized that I didn't know anything anymore. My sense of self got blown up into the stratosphere. The tiny pieces of myself hung in the night like stars for a while and then slowly began to drift back down to earth like snow. For a long time I dwelt in that winter and didn't feel like I was ever going to be OK with myself again, to be able to forgive myself or really to even know who I was anymore. Without that basic sense of self respect, I just lost myself entirely. I have been in some dark places. Been battling things that I think are for real depression and anxiety and panic attacks. I don't ever remever feeling so fragile. Breaking at a sigh. I have breakdowns almost every single day, and then just when I go a few days without one and I think im getting better, I have a few bad nights and it all goes to hell. I really do feel like I am and we are and it is all getting better though. Little by little. I feel like my winter has moved into spring. Though spring can have the most tumultuous weather of all. Especially here. One day feels warm, the next cold, then theres a freaking tornado. There's always a damn tornado that blows through and rips everything apart. Keenan and I have our fights, I get triggered, I break down, but each time we've learned to put things together again and build each other back up. In doing so, each time we learn something about ourselves and about each other that will hopefully help prevent the next one from being so bad. And maybe we're a little bit stronger. I'm still putting the pieces of myself back together. The more time goes on, the more and more pieces drift down from the heavens. I've been scraping together a mound of pieces of my former self. Some pieces have drifted off to far away places, some were gobbled up by fish or whales, and that's OK. I don't need every piece back. They weren't all good pieces. And the good pieces that were lost, well maybe they'll eventually drift down. Or maybe I can find some even better shinier pieces to fill the holes with. Or different pieces that might be almost as good and fit in almost the same way. What I have to try to remember is that things like mosaics and stained glass, though fragmented, are really beautiful too. Keenan told me that the more of myself I find, the more he'll get to have too. He's convinced me that he does still love me and want me and us and this life. Losing that belief is what got me started down the path to my own demise. Now I'm hoping that getting it back will allow me to become whole again. At least, pasted back together. I know I'll never be the same but I'm still really hoping the end product will at least be a me I like. I guess I'll know when I'm dead, because until then I suppose I'll always be a work in progress. As Schmendrick the magician says, "There are no happy endings, because nothing ends." I think some things do. But self improvement is not likely one.
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Poor Chrishell man. Yeah I watch "Selling Sunset." I love seeing all those huge amazing houses. I don't love the girl drama but man I felt so bad for Chrishell when her husband just up and divorced her out of nowhere. They have a little fight and don't talk for a night and the next morning he texts her that he's already been to the court house and filed. Just like that. I could see what she was going through emotionally. She was in shock, like getting hit by a truck. Little did she know that he had been cheating on her for years and ended up marrying that girl as soon as the divorce went through. At least she had answers at that point. I was really impressed with her strength though and the way she pulled herself up and ended up buying her own multi-million dollar house that no one could kick her out of. Inspiring. But the thing she said that really hit me and stuck with me the most when she was talking g about her then husband was, "Maybe instead of going out and looking for grass that's greener, you should spend some time watering the grass that you have." Or something like that. Damn that made me think. Is that exactly what I did? When my grass started to turn brown did I run off looking for a greener patch? Probably, sadly. As late as it is, and after all the shit that's happened as a result, I do think I've finally picked up the watering can. The good thing in all this was that it did force us to work on our relationship and the crazy thing is that working on something does actually make it better. I feel like we have made a ton of progress from where we were. Where we are now, is still a long way from where j want to be. There's still a lot of work we need to do, and it's hard. Damn it's been hard. But I made a promise to pick up that watering can every single day and give that grass a drink. There might not be flowers everywhere quite yet and nothing but lush green, but I don't think it's in danger of dying. I can't let it die. I straight refuse. I hope it never comes close again. My little seedlings are too precious and they need a place to grow.

ISSUES

Jan. 12th, 2022 05:22 pm
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I feel like I'm never going to stop writing "aftermath" posts because this entire journal is being written in the aftermath of what happened. So I think I've basically caught up with where I was, and now it's just where I am, each and every day, and I'm sure that will change. Not just day to day but moment to moment. I actually had a good day for the most part. Busy. But my self esteem was pretty good because I got a lot done in my general housewifery including finishing up two pies and making another full meal that was ready just as Keenan got home from work. Plus cleaning, bathing kids and doing laundry. Where my pearls, heels and vacuum at? But as we were leaving for work Keenan went to kiss me goodbye and did this weird random thing where he made his mouth into a vacuum and sucked my lips in. I did not approve. I said eeeew gross, and gave him a horrified look as I wiped my mouth. Reception clear, yes? He said "Octupus kiss!" Then he took my head in both hands and leaned in to kiss me again. I closed my eyes and thought "OK, he's going to make it right now. This one is going to be sweet." But he leaned me back and came in hard and did the exact same thing again, even worse, sucking hard and pulling both my lips completely inside of his mouth. I twisted my head and pushed him away and said "Ew! No! Stop! That's weird and gross and I don't like it!" And as I was saying it I noticed that I was smiling and pushing him away lightly like I was trying to keep it playful but I also had tears in my eyes and I just felt awful inside. It made me feel truly awful. Triggered. I hate that feeling. Because I've been there so many times. I've been held and pushed against things and grapped and kissed by many people who I did not give the slightest permission to do so. I think every time it's ever happened to me it's passed me off, but as I've lived more and had more experiences and gained more perspective, it's just grown to piss me off more. Because it's just not right, to take control over someone else's body and do things to them that they don't want, ever. Even if that person is your boyfriend, or your husband. I just... don't like it. Like I said, it's triggering. And Keenan has never been that person to me. I've always felt safe with him, protected and respected by him,, and I don't want that to change. So now I'm in this shit place where I'm upset and angry and all I want to do is sit Keenan down and explain to him what he did and how it made me feel and why, because that's what I always want. Every time I get upset, I just need someone to acknowledge how I'm feeling and why and it's like I need that before I can be OK again. I just want to be heard and be understood, especially by the people I love and who love me the most. But now, here I am in my current situation, and even though I know things are supposedly OK and forgiven I know that they're not. Everything is different now. To some degree I know ill always feel like a villain. So now, instead of just having all of the above triggery feelings, I also have thoughts like, if I come to him and tell him that he made me feel like he betrayed my trust and didn't respect me, like all he'd have to do is raise one eyebrow and look at me like "really? You wanna keep telling me about all that trust betrayal and disrespect you've hat to put up with?" Like, seriously, I can't say shit. How can I? I man, it's the two voices always. One saying I don't deserve that, the other saying I deserve worse for what I put him through. I always feel like I'm standing on this unstable ground between standing up for myself and trying not to be a hypocrite and end up making things worse. I always wonder if having the conversation will be worth the result, or What that result will be. So that's where you come in journal, as my place to get this shit out and put it down when I'm not sure who to talk to or what to say. Because here it's whatever. At least for now. Someday, that may change as well. As with all else, time will tell.
stephadoomable: (Default)
Well, it's been a bit and I have done some healing. It's a struggle. Every day I feel like I'm battling myself mentally and emotionally, and I know I still have some huge mountains to move but a few have been moved already, and I'm not doing it alone. I have made some important realizations about myself that will help me live a better happier life eventually. Once I've given myself pernmission to do so. This journey, as hard as it has been and as much as it's ripped me open, has really caused quite a few positive things. Just the other day, I had a major breakdown. I've been having a lot of major breakdowns lately. I feel like I'm mostly not OK but I can mostly act like I am by staying busy. That not OKness is just below the surface though and sometimes the stupidest little things just shatter me. The other day it was tea. Keenan was sick, super miserable sick, and he asked me to make him some tea while he took a bath. I said I would, then got distracted by kids and cleaning. He got out and said "You never made me my tea." And I just fucking shattered. He didn't say it in a mean or judgemental way, just in like a "huh I just realized" kind of way because he had also forgotten, but I felt like a failure and just went into that place where I couldn't stop crying. I cried for hours. Keenan tried really hard to talk to me and calm me down. He eventually gave up and went to bed. The kids were scared which broke my heart. They hid under the table. That made me cry harder. They don't like it when I cry. But I got them to sleep eventually and then despite how utterly exhausted I was, I stayed up and continued to cry because I couldn't get myself to stop crying and I didn't want to wake anyone up. Keenan didn't understand why I was so upset of course and I tried to explain it through the breakdown, but... it's how I became after everything. I have so much guilt and fear, I always feel like I'm trying to make up for the past and make life in the present as good as possible, to make him happy. All I could get out while I was breaking down was "I don't know what standard to measure myself by anymore. I already know I'm not a good wife so I'm just trying to be as good as I can be." Everything I do is either trying to take care of my babies as best I can or to make him happy. It never works, but despite that... I feel like it's all I can do... the only thing I know how to do is be as perfect as I can. To keep the house as clean as I can, handle as much of everything as I can so he can have time to relax and have fun and when I drop the ball on anything like, forgetting to make tea for example, I just lose it. I go to a place of despair, thinking no matter how hard I try I'll never be good enough, and that place is toxic. He told me that I was way harder on myself than anyone else ever is. He told me... that I am a good wife, that he's already forgiven me and that now I need to work on forgiving myself.
So, here I am. Trying. I kept thinking it was impossible, because in order for me to forgive myself I'd have to be OK with what I did or justify it in some way and I can't. And I shouldn't. And I don't want to. And Keenan also said I shouldn't, but that's not what forgiveness is, is it? Forgiveness never justifies a person's actions, it loves that person in spite of their actions. So now I need to get to work on that next part. Not saying it was OK, but that it happened and I can learn and move forward. I need to get back to me, and do the things I love. Be creative. Do some artistic shit. That's when I tend to think I'm alright. At least I'm taking steps. I'm so sorry, to everyone I hurt. From the bottom of my heart and I'm sure I always will be. That will never go away. I'm sorry to me too. I'm sorry I put my actiona at such odds with everything I believe. I want me to be OK with me again. But like I said, it's steps. That may take a long time and a lot more work. But maybe the next time I forget the tea, I can just say "my bad."
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I haven't felt like I've had the mental or emotional strength to write this entry, but I don't feel like I can write anything else until I do. It might not be everything, it might not go too deep, but at least it'll be a start, right? That's all I can ask of myself at the moment. Where am I? In an indescribably difficult place of limbo constantly bouncing between feeling like the luckiest SOB alive.. or DOB? Whatever. Person. Feeling overwhelming joy and gratitude that I've been given a second chance that I didn't deserve, that I didn't lose everything when I so easily could have, but then falling into these bouts of anxiety and depression feeling like it's just a false dream. Things are already broken beyond repair and there is no going back. Sometimes the reality of the situation is one way, sometimes it's the other. It's like there are two truths, two realities and every day is a surprise which one it will be or both in one. I've had so many fucking breakdowns. I don't think I've ever cried this often or this intensely in any period of my life. I feel like every day is a struggle for me to hold my shit together. And yet... it's gotten better in a lot of ways. We've made so much progress already and it's only been a couple months. See? This is how it is constantly with me. Hope, no hope. Hope, no hope. There is hope. There is always hope but some days... God I hate to say it but I'm really tempted to give up sometimes. To stop fighting. Not because I don't feel like there's anything left to fight for: there's everything left to fight for. I just feel the impossibility of it all sometimes. The pointlessness. So.... maybe I should just start with what I know.
Things will never be the same- will there ever be complete trust again? Doubtful. I don't blame him. Not at all. But the constant questions, comments, suspicions, it's all very hard to live with. I keep telling myself that I deserve it, because it's my fault and I brought it on myself. It's true. I can see it as a punishment and that way it feels just. Otherwise... it's easy for me to slip into feeling like it's unjust, because I'm not talking to Jesse, or anyone else, and that can feel a little unfair... and then it's easy for that feeling to make me feel like giving up and running. So, does fighting mean accepting a lack of trust forever? Can either of us live with that? But something else that tends to happen when things start feeling hopeless is that we both feel it, and it scares us and makes us both fight harder, which is good. Alsi, not all changes are bad. For the good, we have been learning to appreciate each other again. To check in and make sure we're not leaving each other neglected and in need. Keenan has been surprisingly supportive through all my many breakAlso, which is always comforting.
Something else I know- There's just too much to fight for. Too much to loose. When I first told him, he was in a place where he wanted to punish me. Make me hurt. And he did that by threatening to take everything from me. Himself obviously, our marriage through divorce, my home by kicking me out, and the kids through custody. In those days when I felt I was truly about to lose everything, I truly felt like I would have nothing left. Nothing of this life. And living through that has made me realize two more things I now know: I do not want to lose this life, anything or anyone in it and also... I am deeply deeply damaged.
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I really hope you made it. Please be ok.
stephadoomable: (Default)
What happened after. This is what I've been struggling with. Needing an outlet but at the same time, fearing talking about it-for several reasons. I have these constant fears that this journal will cause tension between me and Keenan. That everything I put down in writing will come back to bite me in the ass because so far, it has. I have fears because despite Keenan seeming supportive of me starting this journal due to my need to work through my own shit and the therapeutic power of writing, he also expressed his own fears that all I would use it for would be shit talking him and writing love letters to Jesse over and over again. I didn't know what to say to that. Of course that is not all I need to say or talk about but to work through the shit of what happened after, I do kind of need to do a little bit of both of those things.
Also, and entirely separately, I'm also just afraid of facing a lot of this shit. I feel like the only way I get through most days is by compartmentalizing, suppressing and ignoring it all as best I can and just... pretending everything is OK. Fake it 'til you make it, right? But... if I'm being honest, which I am really trying to be here despite my fears, I really did get just as emotionally fucked up and traumatized as everyone else involved. I take the vast majority of the blame and find everyone else to be either mostly innocent (Keenan and Jesse) or entirely innocent (Diana). So the bottom line is, I feel responsible for everyone's suffering including my own. Even though I feel like I deserve it, that is a huge burden. Add not knowing if Jesse is OK, how he's doing, what the state of his life is... there's so fucking much guilt and anxiety and worry with every thought of him. It's been 2 months since we've spoken now. The only way I can see myself in terms of Jesse and his life now is that fucking F4. Dropping out of the sky out of nowhere, causing massive devastation and then disappearing into a clear sky, leaving the survivors to clean up the mess. Then add what happened with Keenan... and I have what I feel like is my fourth round of PTSD. I just keep stacking them up like poker chips. My next step, is going to be confronting what happened in those first few days after. Starting to dress those wounds. God it's going to be so hard, and I really don't want to but... one positive thing I will take from my experience with Jesse is learning that you have to talk about things and process them and work through them or you'll never be able to heal. He helped me to address those first two traumatic experiences with Jeremiah and Max and that was so powerful and healing. Now I know I can do that myself, and I want to try. So... with the help of this journal, maybe I can tackle the next two most traumatic experiences... at some point... maybe even learn to forgive myself and be OK with me again? Time will tell. In the words of Schmendrick the magician: "There are no happy endings, because nothing ends." So for now I will just say, to be continued. We'll talk again soon.

KID 90

Sep. 28th, 2021 03:05 pm
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Here I go again, obsessing about the same film, but I feel like I have to. If I'm going to dive in here, I may as well start at the beginning, and Watching "Kid 90" was like the first domino that tipped and fell and led to me having an affair. Weird, huh? The way one seemingly inconsequential decision can end up changing so much. I wish I could tell Soliel Moon Fry how much her film inspired me, and how much I related to almost every single aspect of it. It almost felt like watching a movie about myself in a lot of ways. All but the being famous, and having super big boobs, but every girl has things about their bodies that they are ashamed or embarrassed of or don't like so even that was relatable to a certain extent. Like Soliel, I have always been able to make friends everywhere I go. Even in high school, a time when we all feel so alone, I look back now and realize I had so many different pods of friends that didn't even know each other. I always had my original childhood Verano loop crew: Mani, Mary, Ben, Luke and Andrew. Come to think of it, I'm still friends with every one of them on Facebook to this day. That's wild. Then I made new friends from just hanging around in middle school like Melissa and Anita. I had cross country friends, then drama friends, speech friends (from St. Mike's as well and Los Alamos). Then I had youth group friends from church and even friends who I met through other friends who were homeschooled or went to different schools. I really have always had a lot of friends. I've been very lucky in that way. I'm not shy and I just find it easy to talk to people and get to know them. But there are always those few special people in life that you hold onto in your heart. People who make the biggest impressions on you, the fondest memories, the most special connections. One person Soliel talked about quite a bit in Kid 90 was Danny Boy and the relationship that they had. Other than the kissing (because we never did that) it really made me think of my friendship with Jesse. Celine, you may even remember him. He was a cross country friend originally but he was just basically my best friend for a couple years. He was always at our house because he couldn't stand to be at his own house. He even came with us to Socorro one time to help us move you out of your dorm room for the summer. We were so close for a time. And we never dated but there were always feelings on both sides. And we both knew it, but were just too young and stupid to do anything about it. Eventually we grew apart and stopped hanging out as much. I think I pushed him away because I couldn't really handle it when he started seriously dating, which is ironic because I had a boyfriend almost the entire time we were close friends. If I'm being truly honest, which is what this is supposed to be about, then I guess I'd have to say it's because I've always had terrible double standards when it comes to what I can take, and what I expect others to be able to take. Sigh. That still seems to be the case. I'll get more into that later. We've lost and regained touch many times over the years. It's so interesting the way we remember different things. We had to compare memories to put a more complete picture together. And who knows if there are still stories that are lost because neither of us remember them. When he graduated, I remember saying goodbye. He remembers coming back twice to visit after he moved to Texas and says he saw me. The second time I was with Bram. I don't remember either of those times. Then I ran Iinto to him at his work when I was with Edward. I visited him at his place a bit after. I remember that. He doesn't. But that was the last time I saw him. When I got my job teaching at Capshaw and moved to Santa Fe, we lost touch again. I've thought of him from time to time over the years and wondered how he was doing. He's never had any social media and I'd lost his number so I had no way to check in. I tried Googling him a few times to no avail. Then gave up. Then I saw "Kid 90." At that point I think I got a bit obsessive. I don't know why it was so important to me, but I couldn't stop thinking about him and any possible way I could find him. It was like, in the end of the film, Soliel reconnects with Danny Boy and gets to talk to him and ask him if their flrelationship had been as special to him as it was to her, and left the same sort of impression. She got to have those answers and have that closure and that reconnection and I wanted that. And that's really all that I wanted. Just to check in, and know that he was OK, and happy, and that he still thought of me and looked back on me with fondness and that I meant something, or had meant something to him, and that maybe we could stay in touch and be friends again. I never wanted to do any harm or cause any damage. And when I thought of that super old phone I still had sitting in an old drawer, and when I charged it up and turned it on and looked inside and found his number, when I sent that first text and reached out hoping to find him still out there on the other side, I did it with only the best of intentions. But that connection, and that closure caused so much damage, cost so much. Far too much. The extent of that damage is what I'm grappling with today. In my life as well as his. Despite how all of this may seem to some, I truly do not enjoy hurting people. Especially the people I love. So how do I carry that? How do I live with that every day and be OK with myself? These are answers that I don't have yet. Maybe I never will. I know that I'll never be able to be happy until I can forgive myself, because I'll never feel like I deserve to be. Right now I feel like that's OK, because with the way I feel about myself now, I don't feel like I will ever deserve to be happy again. I also don't know how that's ever going to change when I'm back to not knowing if Jesse is OK, or what the current state if his life and marriage are; if he hates me or will ever forgive me for the wreckage I caused in his life. With that always hanging over me as a giant question mark, how can I ever begin to be able to forgive myself? Do I need to? Can I live just carrying this and blaming myself for this forever? I can't say that I especially want to, like I said, at the moment I definitely feel like I deserve it and well, I might not have any other option.
stephadoomable: (Default)
OK, here we go. Breath. I have had a lot of apprehension about starting this journal. And writing in it. But... I think I need it. For a lot of reasons. One of the many lessons I've learned, so far, from my fall from grace is that writing really helps me to clarify my own thoughts and feelings. It helps me sort through the chaos of my own brain. I also find it to be incredibly cathartic. If I can get all this shit out and down in a way that makes a modicum of sense, even if it doesn't, it's out. Writing is like my form of cutting or burning. It just, elevates the stress and pain a little. Makes me feel just that much better. And I need that. At the moment, I am always on the brink of a complete meltdown. The smallest things have been pushing me into hysterics. I need to sort some of this shit out. And, I need to start a dialog with myself. Because myself and I are not on good terms right now. If that can change, well, that would be good too. When I went back and read all my old entries, I was actually really inspired by the way I used to write. I wrote that journal like no one would ever read it. There were a lot of times I thought, "wow I was so brave, just putting all my feelings out there like that and using people's names like I didn't give a fuck." Maybe it was brave. Maybe I really didn't give a fuck. Most likely, I just assumed no one would actually ever care enough about me or my life to read it. Other than Celine of course, who is still here. Hi Celine! And co! And they may be the only ones to ever read this new journal, and that's OK. But whether or not that's the case, that's definitely the way I need to write, like no one will ever read it. So that is going to be my motto for this new journal. If I don't, it won't do me any good. I'm scared, because another of the many lessons I've learned recently is that everything you do will eventually come back to bite you in the ass. People you trust turn on you and betray you. Things you say and do get used against you. The things I put down here will probably have consequences at some point. If they do, I hope my future self and those bringing them down upon me can understand that at the moment I'm really broken. I need someone to talk to who will understand everything, and as much as I hate her right now, I've realized the the only person i can talk to that fits that description, is me. And boy do we have a lot of work to do. Strap in kids, it's going to be a bumpy road.
stephadoomable: (Default)
This is my first entry in my new journal. A new journal on a new site. My first entry in many years. I don't know exactly how many. I need an outlet again. My life is a mess. My mind and heart are a mess. So welcome, me. More to come, when I have a few moments to start releasing these nightmares I just might. Maybe it'll do me some good.

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The Dark Side of a Dual Mind: Reboot

April 2022

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