Is it just me or has everyone developed a “the world is out to get me” mentality”?
I’m also eager to find out how it is that I come to be in the path of everyone’s projecting of it?
It always starts behind a screen. A tone assumed. Context lost in translation. Intent completely missed. The kicker is that when I see misery mount up to take me down as company and I wave a white flag and say, “I’m on your side”, the paranoid never believe me. This paranoia has a god complex and knows my intentions better than me.
I could be completely silent; and my unshared, private thoughts would haunt the paranoid.
What’s a girl to do?
I’ve tried pleading my case. I’ve offered explanations. I’ve cried way too many tears.
I’m done with it.
Aside from the abdominal pain, well, more accurately, pelvic pain from whatever is going on in my special lady area, I also managed to hurt my back.
I got the general achyness/pain after attempting to go all gung-ho on cleaning out our rooms and organizing to boot. Then, I almost fell down the bottom flight of stairs, but was able to teeter and balance myself out all ninja like and hang onto the door handle.
I beginning to feel like I’m apart of that ‘Final Destination’ movie. Ill-fated … plagued … cursed.
Before I start to worry about being paranoid and my mental illness doing me in, I mean, don’t you sorta have to believe that when bad things continually happen, if you believe in being blessed when continued good things happen? Seems practical to me. Is that the voices talking? lol
Anyways, later in the day, Cleveland Clinic calls with my test results and they’re positive for anti-retinal antibodies and apparently what that means is I either have AR (autoimmune retinopathy) OR CAR (CANCER retinopathy)
Let us stop for a moment and appreciate this. Not only can I go blind and lose my mind, but I may have cancer as well? Hahahahaha. I couldn’t make this stuff up.
More bloodwork and testing …
I don’t know when I became accustomed to not being happy, where waiting for the other shoe to fall or the rug to be swept out from under me became the norm, but I am acutely aware that it’s not at all normal now.
I am actually happily married. It’s happened. It exists. I don’t’ have to try very hard. I’m just myself. He’s himself. We go to work, we come home. We eat dinner as a family, we do our own things, we do things together, we hardly ever fight, we have sex, we don’t have sex, we laugh together, I fall asleep snuggled up to him or him curled up behind me, there are no expectations…things just fall into place. It works. And I’m happy. He’s happy. The kids are happy. But I find myself looking for signs that something is amiss. Looking for whatever it is that I’m missing because it can’t possibly be that this is it. There isn’t a secret I’m going to find out 4 weeks from now? He’s just suddenly not going to decide that he’s unhappy? He’s not suddenly not going to come home one night? That could be a touch of bipolar paranoia.
But seriously? This is it? Life is this easy? Love is this reliable? Happiness just happens?
This guy comes home everyday happily. Helps the kids with their schoolwork. He even makes dinner and does the dishes. He sends me text messages every morning that say, Good morning, beautiful. I love you. Have a great day….or something to that effect. He kisses my good night, every night. And when I tell him how wonderful he is or vice versa we both say, but I’m really not, I’m not doing that much. It just happens. There’s no drama, no tragedy, no ultimatums. We just are. It just is. We are happy.
It’s absolutely phenomenal to me that I spent so much time, living is such a distorted, unpredictable, alter reality and THAT actually became so normal to me that THIS is hard to accept???
I’m relearning happy.
What a concept.