Clarity Community Group
This group originally had been formed to lend support and to have open discussion on the topic of dissociation. We have since opened up to all aspects of PTSD, BPD, DID, BIP, Depression, etc. Basically our group is a safe supportive (non judgemental) place for open discussion on any somewhat related topic. We do not discriminate. We consider ourselves to be...
We moved into the "new" house Saturday and Sunday.
This house is lovely. It's iconic in our town. So much potential and so much free standing beauty. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that my wife has bipolar disorder. Stress triggers her behaviors and, quite literally, a good night's sleep makes things much better the next day. So much better that the things said and done in a fit of bipolar rage can and will be forgotten.
It's the road traveled. I understand that. Yes, there was arguing...over what? God only knows. Yes, there was door slamming and stomping about. That too...in this lovely new eutopia. Buttons were pushed...oh, most definitely.
The TV was installed today. That should have brought comfort...but, no. A nice dinner was bought...even a margarita...but, did that solve any problems. Well, no. Things were well, then they changed. It's the nature of bipolar disorder.
So, once again....where does that leave me?
I know this sounds strange, and I've tried to explain this all before to a few folks....but, I'm indulging into my fantasies again. It's such a strange and ominous sign that things are not going well inside of me. They haven't been in a long, long time. Is it an addiction? Yes, I think it is...
No. It's nothing that you might think....absolutely NONE of those things. It's my own addiction. No substances, just mindsets. I know...strange....but, it does have to do with attachments. No....it's nothing directly sexual. To the casual observer, they might think nothing of it...were I to explain it to them.
I do believe this comes from a life long void....and it's amplified with each slamming of the door.
You know, while living with this person with bipolar disorder has...at times...been good....there is a lot of me that has seemed to have died. But, with each deadly lashing of my desire for intimacy...gradually...this addiction and acting out has arisen.
This activity involves nobody else...but, rather...other people who have been in my life...who I really wanted to be in an intimate relationship. It's amazing what you'll eat in a desert. It's amazing the appetite that comes to substitute for something that's been missing for so long.
I've fought a lot of battles that past few years. I've often wondered if my desires came from pain...or from void...or both.
Regardless, I've found ways to indulge into my fantasies....and...I'm acting upon them.
Yeah, shit is getting delivered here....and nobody knows. That's part of the allure...because my desire and addiction lie completely hidden...in plain sight. Today, I went to the Post Office to pickup one of those packages. I've been dreaming about this and, when I'm in pain and distress at work...or at home...I quickly want so badly to fall into my fantasies as a source of always available comfort. It is amazing.
When I order something, to fit into this addiction, I get so excited for it's arrival. Today, at the Post Office, the gal that waited on me gave me a very funny and yet direct look into my eyes. She was attractive and I thought, for just a moment, that somehow...she knew.
Nah, not so.
So, the wife is gone to bed with the cat...right after the last door slam...and I'm about ready to slip back into my addiction. The addiction that brings me so much comfort.
Good Night!
This house is lovely. It's iconic in our town. So much potential and so much free standing beauty. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that my wife has bipolar disorder. Stress triggers her behaviors and, quite literally, a good night's sleep makes things much better the next day. So much better that the things said and done in a fit of bipolar rage can and will be forgotten.
It's the road traveled. I understand that. Yes, there was arguing...over what? God only knows. Yes, there was door slamming and stomping about. That too...in this lovely new eutopia. Buttons were pushed...oh, most definitely.
The TV was installed today. That should have brought comfort...but, no. A nice dinner was bought...even a margarita...but, did that solve any problems. Well, no. Things were well, then they changed. It's the nature of bipolar disorder.
So, once again....where does that leave me?
I know this sounds strange, and I've tried to explain this all before to a few folks....but, I'm indulging into my fantasies again. It's such a strange and ominous sign that things are not going well inside of me. They haven't been in a long, long time. Is it an addiction? Yes, I think it is...
No. It's nothing that you might think....absolutely NONE of those things. It's my own addiction. No substances, just mindsets. I know...strange....but, it does have to do with attachments. No....it's nothing directly sexual. To the casual observer, they might think nothing of it...were I to explain it to them.
I do believe this comes from a life long void....and it's amplified with each slamming of the door.
You know, while living with this person with bipolar disorder has...at times...been good....there is a lot of me that has seemed to have died. But, with each deadly lashing of my desire for intimacy...gradually...this addiction and acting out has arisen.
This activity involves nobody else...but, rather...other people who have been in my life...who I really wanted to be in an intimate relationship. It's amazing what you'll eat in a desert. It's amazing the appetite that comes to substitute for something that's been missing for so long.
I've fought a lot of battles that past few years. I've often wondered if my desires came from pain...or from void...or both.
Regardless, I've found ways to indulge into my fantasies....and...I'm acting upon them.
Yeah, shit is getting delivered here....and nobody knows. That's part of the allure...because my desire and addiction lie completely hidden...in plain sight. Today, I went to the Post Office to pickup one of those packages. I've been dreaming about this and, when I'm in pain and distress at work...or at home...I quickly want so badly to fall into my fantasies as a source of always available comfort. It is amazing.
When I order something, to fit into this addiction, I get so excited for it's arrival. Today, at the Post Office, the gal that waited on me gave me a very funny and yet direct look into my eyes. She was attractive and I thought, for just a moment, that somehow...she knew.
Nah, not so.
So, the wife is gone to bed with the cat...right after the last door slam...and I'm about ready to slip back into my addiction. The addiction that brings me so much comfort.
Good Night!
I get it. I understand it because I've done this all my life. It seems as though, those unquenched desires have only magnified as the years have gone along. Yes, the things that triggered me as a child are just as triggering today.
When my package arrives today...for something I have in mind...nobody will understand why these things came. I suppose it's a bit Narcissistic to want the power of puzzlement over others. That's not why I am writing in circles here...by the way.
In fantasy, yes, you are not being truly loved. But, if you've lived a life where loved one's have used your vulnerabilities against you...then you learn quickly in life to protect the content and structures of your mindsets.
I used to judge people who walked in fantasies and delusions. Today, I seek them out. In one of the online forums I've joined, I was surprised to see how common my fantasies were. Should I have explored this? A Biblical approach would tell me definitely "no". It's amazing how people judge others with addictions. While drugs and alcohol may well be addictions above the water line...my contention is...that there are many, many more beneath the waterline that never are fulfilled, challenged or judged. I cannot see how society can think, for a blinking moment, that inside activity (mental thought) can be fully shaped and controlled by outside circumstances.
The old saying goes, "The rich man gets ahead; then the poor man gets even". What we see above the waterline is merely a reaction to what's going on on the inside of a person...with the exception of only the most guarded memories and desires that truly get to the core of the person.
I doubt that I'll ever meet up with anyone to explore fantasies...and, perhaps, that will be a shame.
We all do things to protect ourselves from pain.
Gaye Gaye
and congrats on the new house. I do hope you will post some pics.
((((((((((( BIG HUGS ))))))))))))))
This morning, I thought I heard Mary go out the door to go to work. Come to find out, she had been to the restroom and was off completely today.
When I am by myself, frankly, I talk to myself aloud. I have done this since at least 4 years of age. I decided this morning to research this a bit and found this article in Psychology Today:
http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2012/12/07/talking-to-yourself-a-sign-of-sanity/
From their aspect, I am very sane. The only problem is: Mary doesn't think so. It's freaked her out before when she caught me doing it. Oftentimes, I speak out of rehearsal of my thoughts. I imagine a coworker or some other threat or non-threat being in front of me...and I try to rehearse what I'll say in a given situation....either past, present or future.
Well, today, I thought she was gone and I went on quite a tear.
I am a very lonely person. Especially emotionally. I have so little support and I certainly would not speak of my fantasy life openly. This morning...I was mulling over the stressor of my new job and the possiblity of being recruited by another place that is local.
I let it all hang out. Next thing I knew, as I was trying to find the cat and get him corraled into his cage, there she was...lying on the guest bedroom bed. I didn't realize she had the day off...and I don't know what she heard.
Had she heard anything about this fantasy life I live...I am sure I would have been going to the funny farm today.
I truly hate her knowing anything of my thoughts. She's intrusive enough already...rude, entitled...and controlling. In some ways, I am going to have to tell her where to step off. I really hope she goes and works extra shifts over the pre-summer holiday. Frankly, I like it when she is gone from the house....I can pursue my fantasies better that way...LOL!
In actuality, I have upcoming roleplay that I am looking to do...that feed into those distracting fantasies.
NO. It's not anything of the things you'd think of....and NO...it's not directly sexual in any way. Like I've said before...hiding in plain sight.
I hate to be driven...but, in my personal life...this is all that drives me anymore...apart from the "have-to's" of life.
I realize dissociation is a check-out from reality. But, it protects me and keeps me going...largely.
I'm here for you my dear friend. Anytime.
I've gotten busy and I'm making good money again. These things have built in advantages over how I dealt with things before.
I saw a former coworker, yesterday. She was the Director of Nursing at one of our sister hospitals when i was working for the healthcare entity a couple of years back. I had already known that she had departed the entity and was working for another Healthcare entity. I had not seen her in about 4 years and she's changed quite a bit. But, we discussed things frankly and she left under less than ideal circumstances as well.
These things help normalize my thoughts. In a way, I've let go ot if....and I'm moving on.
As I grasp the reality of the world around me, as it stands right now, I must say that I've found a place of relative comfort where I am. I would have never thought that possible.
Perhaps, when reality becomes more comforting to me than fantasy...things will change again. Perhaps I'm getting closer.