I was playing Pogo Games, something I wasn't able to do yesterday. I'm still not ready to play WoW but that may come in time.
I have a little backtracking to do, so I'll do that before I continue..
The first time I ever admitted myself to a psychiatric hospital was around 1991-1992-ish when all my childhood abuse issues came flooding back. I was discharged after two weeks, which coincidentally was how long it took my ex's mental health insurance to run out. When I came home though I was afraid to do a lot of things I did before the hospitalization. I stopped drinking pop, I stopped wearing earrings, etc. It was as if I started doing those again it would magically trigger another breakdown and hospitalization.
Now that I've come very close to admitting myself once again I'm afraid to do some things.. like play WoW. I'm able to play Pogo, but I'm only comfortable playing one game. Over and over and over.
So.. like I said I was sitting here playing Pogo and I remembered a song from way back when me and hubby first got serious about our relationship. It was from a John Travolta made for TV movie called The Boy In The Plastic Bubble. (Still a good movie if you can find it.) Back then hubby was in the middle of divorcing his first wife. Not because of meeting me.. she had actually started having a relationship with someone SHE'D met online. She'd even had the guy over to their house for dinner. That's another story maybe for another day though..
It was a rough time. My kids weren't sure about me getting serious with someone a year after divorcing their dad. Hubby was torn up over what his wife had done plus all the legal wranglings and such. The Travolta movie rerun had recently been shown on TV and I knew right away that the song fit our circumstances.. and maybe a lot of other people have felt the same way once or twice in their lives, so I'll share it here.
Won't you take a minute to listen to it.. ?
I started crying when I listened to this earlier today. Not the crying like I've been doing though. It was more like catharsis crying, if that makes sense. In my attempts to block out all kinds of negative thoughts and feelings lately I've also blocked out good ones as well.
Sure I had to ask him to come hold me while I cried. (He's been walking on eggshells with me the last few days and probably was uncertain wtf he should do.) He came and he held me and I was able to allow myself to break through the wall I'd erected around myself. I was able to tell him amongst other things that it didn't matter to me that he couldn't "fix" me because he manages to love me even when I'm "broken."
If you're still praying for me, I ask you to please thank God bringing this man into my life.
Note a few hours later:
I just realized something. Have you noticed that every time lately when I said I needed a hug that I had to ASK Mike to hug me? Most of the time he doesn't even act like I exist. Except when dinner is late.
I swear most of the time I don't think he'd even miss me if I was gone. I don't think anyone would. My own kids don't want to hug me when I see them. Maybe it's because I'm covered in smoking smell... but shit.. how long does a hug have to last?
Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it. If anything is worth it.