It's been a long while.
A lot has happened.
Inside probably more than outside, which is saying a lot. I feel like I'm in a constant state of limbo, processing so slowly, but maybe the speed is just indication of how much has changed.
I have been off of Instagram for almost half a year. Right at the peak of what could have been my big break. But it felt wrong and it was messing with my head. I've come to conclude that Instagram itself has been the mediator between my relationships. Social media in general has been the filter through which my relationships have collapsed. Feeding me people and stories I wasn't ready for. Feeding me things I didn't have time to adjust to. Burn out. Fatigue. Love. Caring. Depression. Over exposure. Overwhelm. It's all there right under our noses.
I don't know how much sense it will make to any potential readers.... I use this blog so infrequently it won't make much sense to call it a journal or diary.... And yet it's probably the closest thing to that I have. Strange I feel better writing this here than on paper. I don't yet understand that. Nonetheless.... I have been shattered. And I haven't picked up the pieces. I don't feel safe enough to. I let down my guard and I feel.... Unsafe. Unsafe in.... My relationship I guess. Which is strange because it seems fine. Good even. I don't know where to turn to talk about the silent pain. I sure keep it inside, locked away where it's safe. It seems to me that the pain wants to break up. Again. Which is what I've already done so many times and I don't know that's fair. But I'm still here. Still in pain. Since the beginning. She's changed. She's grown. She's actively growing. And getting closer and closer to what I think I need in a partner. But I still feel wounded. It never gets touched. I never get touched. Not like I need.
I'm still polyamorous but I don't do anything about that. And it grieves me. It hurts so bad. I feel so torn and broken. Depression is my closest friend. I wish I could say it were music, but I don't feel like singing much when I'm around her. This all feels awful to admit. Terrible. But truth is deeply in my body and I don't know how to say I need more or less. I need more freedom and less attachment. I need more love than she can provide and I need less asked of me. I need to feel truly seen on a different level. I feel small and yet fully responsible for myself and her. I don't like feeling like I am in a parental role so often. Soothing her so often.... So much of my day is taken up just soothing her. I need to get outside more. Away. Alive. Breathing. I need more friends. I need more social life out here. I've been in this dynamic too long. I've forgotten I can make friends on my own. The last friends I made were great but that blew up like coffee in my face.... Im still sore from that one.
So I guess I need to move on. I can't be myself so long ad I stay like this. I need more friends. Period. I guess I better start looking.
