July 31, 2013

Later today I remembered another dream from last night. One in which I had somehow gotten married to someone else. My actual partner was away, and it was a similar situation. I had wanted him to be there, but he had somehow fucked up and wasn’t. Some older man, like grey-hair kind of old, and pretty fat too, had been talking to me for a long time. Taken me out to dinner, been really friendly and generous. I remember feeling really trapped and conned, so I think in the dream I kind of got sneaked into marriage without knowing it, really.
There was a moment before going to bed where I was also ‘obliged’ to have sex with him, which I didn’t want at all. I felt terrible, and really defenseless. In real life I would have fought the guy off me with all my might, but in the dream for some reason I felt like I didn’t have that option. My signature was on a yellowed paper saying we were married, and he kept bringing that up.

I called my real boyfriend in my dream, asking him to please help me out of this situation now. It felt unsafe when I woke up, nothing tangible happened in the dream where he tore up the marriage contract or anything. I still had a really uncomfortable feeling, like I wasn’t protected. The dream left me feeling like I wasn’t looked out for.

And then I woke up and looked in the mirror, and remembered that my hair is ruined.



July 31, 2013

I had the weirdest dream. One of my primary school teachers was a creepy killer with unhealthy obsessions, and I was one of his. He’d follow me around, but since we live in the same village that didn’t strike me. He was about to act, in my dream, when suddenly I “saw” it.
Just in case that was a premonition, I’m writing it down.

My hair is a little better, but not good enough for a wedding. I don’t know what to do.

My man’s finally going home, that’s good. I still don’t know what time the wedding will be. Apparently neither does he. Isn’t that just damn great?

Tonight a bunch of friends and I are all having dinner for my best friend’s birthday. My boyfriend was actually supposed to bring me her gift, so I’ll have to buy her something else now since he couldn’t make it. I have no idea what to get her!! Stressing out about it.

I’m also running out of money, and don’t know when I’ll get to work next. This limbo life is getting tiresome.


July 30, 2013

My hair is not okay. It’s not okay at all. I wouldn’t dare leave the house with it the way it is now. Let alone get married. She assured me it would look nice after a couple of washes, so the hair “settles”. I’m extremely sensitive about my hair, when it’s not perfect I feel washed out.

This feels like a bad omen.

I’ll give it a couple of more days and see if it indeed settles, like she said. I feel nauseous thinking that it might not turn out alright. I’ll have to get it done again before the wedding, which will cost a fortune. Or I’ll have to shave my head. Those are seriously my only two options. At this point I don’t even care about having a Sinead-look.


July 30, 2013

Today I’m getting my hair done. For a wedding ceremony that scares the shit out of me.

As I went through my school books again, reading the parts about addiction, I suddenly got blind sided by a notion I had never considered: I will never be his true love. He met his true love at 12, when he first started drinking. Everything else, the dreamy, endearing romantic behavior, the amazing serenades of how much he loves me, that’s just the addict who wants something.

Like I thought, he’s been hanging around the people he met at AA in the vicinity of the airport. Is he planning on staying there until I land, procrastinating on coming home and facing the repercussions of what he’s done? If they’ll let him stay on their couch for that long, he probably will.

I partially wish that he would be forced to go home, and fall into the black pit that he dug for himself. A dark, evil and angry part of me wants him to be alone, and absolutely miserable. But I don’t, really, because he didn’t do anything, the disease did.

From my perspective, it feels like his love for me can never win. It can never be big or strong enough to beat his love for alcohol. But I’m looking at it wrong, aren’t I? He doesn’t love alcohol at all. Do wives of cancer patients feel “second” to their husband’s disease? Do they think his love wasn’t strong enough to fight away the tumor? No. Because the two are unrelated.
It must be exhausting for him to be misunderstood by everyone around him. They’re making him pay for a choice he never made. And by indulging in such thoughts, I contribute to that, and I don’t want to be that kind of wife. I never want to make him feel alone.

I hope and pray for strength to hold on to this line of thought, to think of it as cancer. I try to have faith that he does love me, he just shows it in weird ways. Seeing him again still scares me a bit, because I don’t know how much I’ll be sucked in and powerlessly co-dependent. It’ll be a battle to stay at a safe and healthy distance, for my and ultimately his sake.
I hope I haven’t been forsaken by whatever power it is that watches over me.


July 30, 2013

Back in highschool I remember we went on a field trip to the mines. Coalmines. The first hour was alright, the corridors were wide and well lit, obviously soundly structured and the warmth from inside the earth felt really cozy in contrast to the cold November day.
But then we had lunch, and descended even deeper, into a completely different kind of section of the mines. Our guide told us that this place was still safe, but was much more eery and could make some people very uncomfortable. Beforehand we had all had to sign a paper stating we were not claustrophobic that we knew of (one girl was, she never went inside the second part of the mines).
Every now and then, the images and the stories still flash before my mind’s eye, when I feel very trapped or afraid. To explain the Thing, here’s a picture of a mine I found that comes closest to what I’m talking about:

pijlerMiners dig between the different layers of the earth’s crust. This way, they don’t need to support them much, because they are already organized in this way. A layer cannot easily collapse. Usually, these layers are more or less horizontal, if not, they’re only slightly slanted. However, sometimes, the crust forms unusual waves and bumps, and in some places those layers are very steep. Depending on the spot, the layers that miners dig out can be very thin. As in, one man can barely move through it while lying flat on his back, that kind of thin.
We only ever kept to the corridors that were well cut out on the tour, but from the corridors we could see the dug out layers, or at least the beginning of them, left and right from us in between the supporting beams. The corridors are lit by electric lights, but light under the earth doesn’t exactly carry far. In fact, under the earth, you get the feeling that light is being completely swallowed by the dark walls surrounding you. Even sound isn’t the same. Colors are a lot paler, everything seems to be black and white under there. All there is is electric light, and not the sunlight to differentiate clearly between colors.

At one point, we arrived at a very steep layer on our right. As I looked down into it, all I saw was pitch, pitch blackness. The light from the guide’s torch couldn’t even light the end of it. He explained how down there, somewhere, was another corridor like this one, and another layer after that. It seemed amazing to me that people would really go that deep under the earth.

But then came the stories. Miners would often go from corridor to corridor through these layers, because it’s much quicker than taking the elevator way at the ass end of the corridor (which could sometimes be miles long!). Sometimes there was maintenance to be done in the layers as well, or sometimes a new one needed to be mined. The point is, it has happened that miners would be deep inside these layers, when the crust started to move. There are stories from diaries and letters of miners who witnessed their colleague being crushed inside the earth.

The thin, claustrophobic and dark layer I was peering into suddenly had a completely different vibe to it. This thing really does swallow everything. It looked so silent, dormant, so peaceful almost. But beyond what I could see, I imagined a force greater than anything manmade, the force of our entire planet having an itch.

Now and then, when I feel like I do now, I feel like I’m stuck in between a very thin layer of earthcrust, and I don’t know if I’ll be crushed or not. I hear it move and roar and rumble, but so far nothing’s really moving around me -yet. There is something awfully ominous about it all, and the battery of my torch seems to be running low.

In a little over a week, I’m getting married. My partner organized most of it. I don’t know the name of our minister. I don’t know how to get there on my own. I don’t know what time the ceremony will be. I don’t know who all will be there. This doesn’t worry him in the least, because he thinks he has it all covered and so there isn’t a problem. His self-centered view on this, although without ill intent, is mindblowing. I got it, why do you need to worry about it? The earth is moving beneath my feet.


July 30, 2013

Day 2.

I’m not good at this. This was supposed to be a few days to myself, but I’ve been worried out of my mind. Thoroughly defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? Still haven’t had news, I don’t know where he is. Sometimes I have confusing dreams that he died, but I can’t let myself go there.

Why am I doing this? Why am I being so ridiculous?

Maybe he just needed the time off to rehash his relapse, to trace back his steps and identify where it went wrong. Maybe he’s having an amazing time with those kids from AA, and decided to hang around for a bit. Maybe he’s at home, just trying to find some quiet. Maybe he’s with family, talking, healing.

Back in October it was a similar situation as this one that made me decide to take a break. He really thought it was over back then (so did I) and was absolutely crushed. I needed time and some space, but couldn’t get much. I did get some, but he did always try to take some of it, because he was probably losing his mind out of grief.
But this is different. I did ask for ‘a few days’ for myself, but I never thought of leaving him. I pondered whether or not it would be easier with someone else, I negotiated if someone else wouldn’t be more constant. But someone else would just be fucking boring, wouldn’t it? I don’t like constant, never have. I get bored and lose interest.

I’m starving.


July 30, 2013

Today I ate a watery soup, and two 45 gr bags of chips…Grand total: 500 calories. Wtf.

I had lunch with my sister, and I could really confide in her today. Beforehand I knew I had to tell her what happened, and that I couldn’t lie and make my relationship seem like a fairytale. It’s not. She actually understood, a lot more than I had thought she would. Not at any moment did she judge me, or my sweet man. She did tell me that I have to tell my parents the truth, because right now they’re speculating away, and it’s actually worse. And she’s right. As soon as it’s a quiet time together, I will.

Next thing I knew, I got a call from my boss to work from 6 til close. I was happy to get some more hours in, and it seemed like the perfect way to take my mind off things.

I had underestimated how tired I’ve been. The first hour I was alright, the place wasn’t very busy and I could just serve people without too much straining myself. But after a few hours I started having really bad lower back pain. I was shaking all over, tense, just completely overwhelmed. I thank all the gods that I didn’t break down and cry.
I felt so, so sad. A new kind of sadness, not the acute, pang of pain kind of sad. A slumbering, dull sadness that seemed to have always been there.

Suddenly an old friend walked in. He’s actually a guy I had a thing for a few years ago, and as much as he did have a thing for me, things never really happened. I wasn’t incredibly and totally fucking in love with the dude, either, it just kind of died. But for some reason I always had been spiteful towards him, I’m not totally sure why. I was still badly on drugs in those days, like 5-day-bender-on-drugs, and I’m sure that played its dirty part in all of it.
Anyway, I found the opportunity to apologize to him for it, and I had actually thought about him during a bikeride just a few days back. Thinking I should at least say the words. As soon as I had said them, he was all “oh please, that’s in the past”. I didn’t let him shove it aside though, I stressed that it was important to be said out loud.
I’m not sure if he was uncomfortable, or incredibly touched by it. I’m hoping the latter.

We ended up having a blast behind the bar, a young drummer I know started putting on song after song of absolutele jazz bliss, we were all dancing around the bar like crazy people. It felt really nice letting go of everything and just soaring on the tones of the trumpets.
I pondered getting totally and utterly blacked-out drunk just before we closed, but opted not to. That meant no alcohol, because in a state like this, it’s never just one drink.

But by closing time, I was done. I just wanted my bed. My tv. My room. My cat. My space.

I hope I don’t have to work tomorrow, I’m wonderfully enjoying just laying in bed watching documentaries and finding my center.

Haven’t heard from him for a day.