Wednesday, September 14, 2011
I do realize that I'm lucky in the fact that, for someone with bipolar disorder, I cope very well, except for the boxes of expensive lingerie that keep showing up on my doorstep delivered by a big brown truck. Oh, and girls, matching lingerie please. Being unmatched just isn't, well it just isn't proper.
I need to write a little more seriously tonight, mainly because I'm facing a significant loss in my life, actually a pretty damned devastating loss. Out of respect for the other person and others that are involved I'll try to keep this somewhat vague. I just need to freaking process. I need someone to listen, to hear my not so silent screams. Ok, I didn't actually scream, on the outside anyway. But I did pretty much lose it.
When I got the news this afternoon I immediately went into survival mode. It's kind of what I've learned to do over the years. If you know me at all you know that shit hits the fan around here pretty much on a weekly basis. I get through. I compartmentalize. I deal with it when I'm good and ready to deal with it. I control it, or I think I control it, when in reality I know it's controlling me.
I don't have that luxury this time. I have to act and I have to act fast. That means having to deal with the loss and deal with it now. I can't hide it away and pretend it's not going to happen. I can't deny the fact that it's here and it's now. I can't deny the fact that my life will forever change.
I like to feel I'm in control of my life, and for the most part I am, but this is something I have no control over. I certainly wish I did. But it's just not going to happen my way this time. The Diva will be denied. Somehow that just doesn't sound right.
I hate the feeling of my life spinning out of bounds. I hate the uncertainty of the unknown. I hate feeling the tears welling up with no where to go, God forbid I have a stuffy nose so I can't sleep tonight or puffy eyes at the gym tomorrow, then I'll really be pissed. God forbid the facade begins to crack.
So while inside I'm losing it, tomorrow I'll get on my gym clothes, grab coffee and get my butt to the gym. I'll try to work through the hurt and the loss with the weights. They'll become my comfort in the next month or so, they'll become my way out, my diversion.
I'll smile, I'll move forward. I won't like it in the least but I'll get through this and I'll survive. I'm not really sure how it'll happen, but it will happen. When you look at me you'll never know how much I'm hurting, you'll never see the fear, you'll never see the tears.