a hiatus of sorts

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I did not intend to go on hiatus. It just happened.

This is me trying to come back to the blog. Hell, this is me trying to come back in many respects.

And, as usual, anytime I’ve been gone from the blog for a good bit, it is very hard to come back. Or rather, the writing of a blog post is what’s hard. 

With an anonymous mental health blog, many of us inevitably share it with people close to us. I still share it with very few people. But the fact is, I’ve had people figure out that this is my blog. My Freshly Pressed post from this past March cause some people to connect the dots, and that’s how more people know who I am. 

As a result, one particular person who I know is reading this blog has not been a good person to have in my life. Wish I could elaborate, but they are reading this blog. And this person still thinks they have power over me. I will say this:

To the person who thought they could call the shots:

You underestimated my strength, and my intelligence. I have a mental illness, but that does not mean I am stupid. I am in the middle of one of the biggest challenges of my life. Separately from this challenge, I am going though integration. and it is incredibly bewildering at times. The strangeness of it too often causes me to say, “Who the fuck am I?”

You are the largest disappointment in all of this. I thought more of you, but I was wrong. Someday the world around you will learn the real you. You can’t keep up the charade forever. 

I miss the person I thought you were. I now know I was blind to the real you. Funny … I miss that blindness. 

You no longer scare me. 

No matter what happens, I will be okay. 

P.S.

Stop reading my blog. 

An ending

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Today I gathered all of my tea cups, tea tins, tea filters and other miscellanea that make an office space a home, and packed up my office cube. I will no longer switch on the overhead light every morning first thing when I get in for the day. I switch on the overhead lamp, start up the computer, and immediately take the tea bag out of my tea cup because the walk to the lobby and elevator ride is plenty of time for the green tea to complete the brewing cycle. I will miss the Zen and Now green tea from the coffee shop four doors down from our office. Though I won’t miss that they consistently use water that is far too hot for green tea, but I still supported them because I liked starting my day in that ramshackle, yet friendly shop with the door handle that does not work well and requires you to bump the door open with your hip as you push down on the door handle.

I will no longer have morning chit-chats with our secretary who is also my dear friend. Every morning I would say to her, “Good morning, chica!” For my last day today she bought me my Zen and Now green tea, and left me a beautiful fuchsia vase of flowers on my desk.

My colleague and I will no longer go to the pizza dive for lunch where we typically clean them out of all the remaining slices of buffalo chicken pizza they have on hand. I will no longer confuse my colleague with my mangled silly Spanglish utterances such as my famous “Como que what?!” He has since started using my Spanglish with his family on occasion. There could be worse legacies.

My colleague and I made a trip out to my car with my stuff, and when I opened the trunk of my car I realized that I still had tea cups and other assorted stuff from the last time I switched jobs. I looked at the old stuff, and realized that boxes of stuff from a departed job are hard for me to contend with. These boxes are big ol’ Boxes of Goodbye for me. I came home, looked around, and realized that I have such boxes squirreled away all over the place: other boxes from past departed jobs, boxes from ex-boyfriends and ex-partners – all of which are unopened and discarded on the road of constant change in life.

I have to trust that this ending is a right and good decision. This ending brings a new beginning, a beginning that I sought out and earned, and now that I have it in my hands it takes my breath away and scares me a little.

This is what I want. I want this beginning. 

Eyes wide open, heart wide open, I move forward to a new beginning. But this time, today’s Box of Goodbye is tomorrow’s Box of Beginning.

To the one who has no idea

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It’s 2 am, and I am wide awake. The start of this vacation has not been as restful and peaceful as I had hoped. Unfortunately, I think I know why. I like you, and you have no idea.

Not sure how much longer I can hear about your eharmony questions, or your questions about what to wear on your next date. Yes, part of me loves that you ask me, but another part of me does not like the fact that there is even a need for the conversation. Though it was amusing to get an anxious text from you with a picture of a couple of sets of your shoes asking for help. Even more amusing is that I was the inspiration behind this statement in your eharmony profile, “If you say that a food is the worst thing you’ve ever eaten, I will want to try it.” I think it’s crazy and funny that you put such a thing in your profile. And, yes, I maintain the particular diner on Broadway that I pointed out to you is among the worst. Or course, now you want to eat there. Why do I want to go there with you?

Nearly everyday you and I communicate with each other. Do you realize that when you seriously start dating someone our relationship cannot continue on the level that it is? I find it hard to believe that whomever you date would find it acceptable for you to have such a close friendship with me. You can call it fellowship, or whatever you want to label our relationship, but, mark my words, this will end as soon as you start seriously dating someone.

And with that, I cherish the early morning breakfasts with you at the diner. You are the only one for whom I would wake up early for a 7:30 a.m. breakfast on the weekend. I rather like that we practically have the place to ourselves at that early hour. I never like when life gets in the way, and we have to skip a weekend. Remember, these breakfasts with me will end when you find the one because she will expect that you will be dining with her, instead of me, and rightly so.

You spent Father’s day with me, always a hard day. Thank you for that.

I like that when I told you I have DID you said to me, “I only know what Hollywood has shown … or is it like Hollywood?” The sweet sincerity of the question made me laugh when you asked.

You’ve seen me as another alter, and you didn’t freak out or run away. In fact, you seemed to process it as not a big deal. Most importantly, you’ve remained my friend.

I like that we can laugh about my DID. While hiking you posed the possibility of going off the trails. I think you said this in jest, though it is hard to know with you. I put the kibosh on that idea, and said I had never done that. You turned to me, and with a sparkle in your eye, you said, “YOU can never say that.” I laughed right out loud. I never dreamt that there would be a day that I would laugh about my DID.

We don’t have a lot in common. In fact, we have quite a few differences. I like Kripalu as much as you like Vegas. You admittedly rarely read for pleasure, and you say you are not a “word person.”

But, I like who you are … the dramatic, kind, funny, loud person that you are through and through.

Though you cannot know how I feel about you. I do not want to face the prospect of not having you as a friend. Your friendship means too much to me. And so, I will continue to try to look unaffected when you talk about your latest date. I will glance at your hands, and try not to think about touching them. There’s a reason we have those awkward moments when it looks like I want to hug you, but don’t.