I have stepped back from the online adoption world. Right now, my head and heart cannot take it. Those of you experiencing adoption right now, know my heart is with you. I am just having issues being happy for you all when my adoption is so broken. I will continue to tweet and (when I feel strong enough) read your blogs, but please forgive me for not being as close as I once was. I promise to bounce back eventually.
Next: This weekend. It's THE BIG weekend. When I meet Nikki again. Phil and I were texting about it earlier and I have no better words than what I said to him, so I will just type them here: (I am in bold, he is italics)
Happy boyfriend is always good
:) more important is a happy gf...lol
She's on vacation till monday. Until then, nervous gf is substituting.
Ahh. I see...It will be fine...but I have to get ready so I will text you in a few.
Um...hempfest isn't something I wanna do. Way out of my comfort zone to start with. Like miles. Add Nikki to it and I could puke. I prob will, several times.
And I am back. I will be right by your side babe. I don't know what to say cuz I've never been in that position :( but I'm here for u.
I know you will. I've never been here before either.
Suddenly I am like a scared kid again. It's not pretty or easy nor do I want to deal with it like an adult. And fuck, vulnerable? I couldn't be any more vulnerable.
You don't need to hear about my sad today. Just don't expect me to be the same person Sunday that you know most days, and forgive me for it.
I'm here for u...so talk. I'll let you know when I have to go. OK.
I've waited so long to apologize for things that I know (mentally) weren't my fault. Now I get to and I know there is no reason to...but I have to. For me.
I told ya, I've got to acknowledge so much that for years 'never happened'. I feel abused and alone and scared and insignificant all over again. Like I did the day I had to slam the door in her face, yet I am slapping on a smile and pretending to be ok.
:( (I am convinced he has no idea what to say)
They tell you that you will feel this way if you ever confront your abuser. That's why so many people get away with it. They never tell you that it hurts the same when you approach the people that were there for you. This. Is. Hard. It's the hardest damn thing I've done, except for B. I am surprised I haven't found a way to sabotage us, I am scared and you are too close.
To me. To seeing how fucking scared I am. I dont want you to. I want you to see the happy.
I know babe, I'm here.
So that's my mind lately.
Still wanna read more?
How should I love someone whose pain scares me? No, it’s not the pain. Not exactly. It’s how he medicates himself.
I should back up. He has been wonderful. He has treated me like a princess, to the best of his abilities. He rubs my feet. He calls me baby. He cooks me dinner and cleans MY house. We are more alike than different. He is good for me.
Except this. This one stupid thing that I can’t get over. His medicine. Weed. Yeah, great. I’ve tried to wrap my head around why it scares me and I just cannot. It’s not that I think he will become violent or mean or anyone different. I see the change in him, from pain so much he can barely move to free and limber. I know it helps. Him. It’s hurting us. It’s only vaguely illegal out here. Everyone does it or has. No one cares. He would stop if I asked him, but that would be asking him to be in pain. Everyone knows me better than that.
I am thinking of walking away. This hurts. I don’t know what to do. It’s hard to hide this fight from him. He knows I do not like it. He knows it makes me uncomfortable. He knows I would rather be scared than have him in pain. He doesn’t know what to do either, because I won’t tell him.
It’s going to come to a head in some fashion this weekend. Hempfest. I am going. I am terrified for more reason than one. I am going to meet up with a long lost friend. I am not going for the boy.
Yet that may be where, when, and how this ends. I can’t ask him to change, but I can’t let this fight go. It looks simple from the outside. Cut my losses. Move on. Inside, though, it’s more than just that. It’s a moral fight for me. Washington classifies weed as a medication. I am not entirely opposed to it. I do not agree with it being illegal.
Yet like I am afraid of men who drink I am afraid of Phil who smokes. Is this my issue, to get over on my own, or our issue to work through together? Do I dare ask him? He is the single most intuitive person I have ever met, he will know soon.
I don't know what to do.
With Love Always