Becoming quietly confident
Ad 2:
2021-06-25 01:28:59 (UTC)

Getting better

Everyday that goes by I am crawling my emotions back to normal. It is weird how this one person can mess me up so badly. But he really can. I wish he had been healthy, I would’ve never left. It is sad what life can do to a person and he had trauma (like people dying trauma) from the start so it is ingrained in him and will never fully heal. I don’t know why my ex messaged me. I don’t know why he stopped. I do know it is time for me to move forward and return to the place I was heading before he messaged. To pick up goals. To focus on the good man who does share my bed. Even if sex isn’t part of it. Although... he did come to bed with me last night and let me give him a hand job as we were falling asleep. It has now been almost two weeks since we have had sex. The count down is on again. Before that it was about a year. And before that was also about a year. We will see though. Something has changed in him. He is spending less time on screens, he is walking and trying to take care of his health better and he came to bed with me. I am scared to hope though for permanence, we have been on this merry-go-round before. I listened to him talk with his mom this week and got some insight. His mom is (likely) schizophrenic and not in a small way, like in a raving lunatic sort of way where she talks to herself as if answering someone else. We can’t get her diagnosed though because she refuses and we can’t get rights and make her because she is high functioning, cooks, cleans, drives, it’s pretty amazing. She is dearly loved and I really admire her for what she can do through what seems like delirium. For us to take over her rights and get her diagnosed she would have to be a danger to herself or others and she is not, if anyone has had to deal with this I’d love advice. So, I was listening to them talk and I realized she is always full of worry. She asked my husband what his blood pressure was, if he had filled out a will, if our family had good standing in our county (whatever that means), if the government needed us to pay back our taxes so his little brother didn’t go broke, and on and on. Most of it not making much sense. But what I realized from this is my husband had a mom that ALWAYS worried. She never played, never just had fun, never joked, she only ever addressed serious topics, constantly. And even though her worry can be dismissed by her mental illness I started to understand that this is what my husband grew up with and that some of the worry/fear he carries was taught to him probably from a very young age.