Rollercoaster Summer of emotions

I started my new position June 1st. I am now a case manager. Mid June I started another relationship in my life. Not a regular relationship. Have you heard of polyamory? Yeah…so my husband and I started a relationship with another woman. My summer has been and up and down of emotions. A river of tears and heartache.

I have absolutely no judgement for anyone adventurous enough to consider it. I found out the hard way that it’s not something that I want to do, that I can do. I still ache. I still cry. I have a 40 minute commute to work on which sometimes I scream because no one can hear me. On the way back I scream, but now the pain seems more concentrated from the day so it’s more intense. Tears now flow as I scream and bang my steering wheel. I often wonder if other drivers have seen me. Then I try to sing as loud as I can while I wipe my tears and try to compose myself before I get home.

I don’t want my children to see how devastated, how broken and empty I feel. I don’t want to show this to my husband.

My advice to you if you ever decide to bring someone into your relationship, beware…someone may fall in love. And someone might not. And hearts will be broken.

I did not fall in love. And I am heartbroken. Nothing is ever as it seems. Don’t plan, your plan will not be executed like you intended.

Don’t expect. Don’t dream. Don’t fall in love unless you know they are in love too, all of you are in love too.

I only wish I could prevent others from going through this. But I can’t. This summer love left me exhausted. I am emotionally drained. I’ve lost 12 lbs in the last month. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much. I threw up and felt nauseous for almost 2 weeks.

I’m done with this pain. Fuck you pain. Fuck you.

Tables are turned

I’ve always felt that I’ve communicated my feelings pretty clearly with my husband. Most of my feelings I put out there. The reason I do it is because I know that communication in a relationship is key. I know I have daily struggles, I know being married to someone with depression, anxiety, sensory issues and so many other struggles is a huge struggle in itself. I try to be as open as possible to keep this relationship working. I know that communication can help us bridge that gap, that separation that sometimes seems to grow and grow. But it doesn’t work both ways.

My husband has recently been struggling and I can see it. I married the most positive and outgoing person. He’s the type of person that never worries…or at least I thought. My husband teaches and he also travels for his music career. He manages his own band. Lately I can see the stress and anxiety in him. I can see it in his tired eyes. I can see the lines in his eyes which I never noticed before at only 35. I can see that smile he gives me when I get home and then I see it immediately  vanish right after. Yet he won’t share his problems, his worries with me. I don’t know how else to make him open up.

He tells me he can’t just dump all his problems on me that it wouldn’t be fair. It hurts me to think he is hurting yet he won’t open up. We recently had a medical scare and had to take him to urgent care. He was prescribed high blood pressure medication as well as anxiety meds. I told him last time he needed to communicate yet he still refuses. I don’t know what to do. He does what he loves for a living. He works with music in his day job and he also travels with his band. He not only manages the band but he’s also their drummer yet he seems tired and worried and sad. It angers me. It angers me because he gets to do what he loves and live his dream yet he doesn’t seem to enjoy it. And the worse he doesn’t share what he’s going through. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him. When he shuts down like this I want to pack my stuff and leave. I can’t handle it. I feel like the day-to-day interactions seem fake. Then I think, is that what it is to live with me? With all my symptoms, sensory issues, depression, anxiety and so much more. Is that what he has lived with for all of our marriage and now I get a glimpse of what is like? I don’t know. I want my old happy husband back. He seemed happier when he wasn’t pursuing his dream. I don’t get it.

Post concert recovery

Residente’s concert was just amazing. One of the things I love about attending concerts is, aside from of course the show and listening to your favorite artist, the energy shared with those attending. There is a magical connection that goes beyond sharing a very tight physical space. The passion that is shared as you release this energy and lyrics fill the air is almost mystical. You probably won’t ever cross paths again with those you share your space with in that moment but the energy released stays with you to recharge your life battery for a while. It stays there so when you feel nostalgic your memory brings it up and instantly you have this warm softening feeling. It’s like taking a Xanax.

By the way no medication was needed last night. Towards the end my feet and legs were tightening, I was tired but the music and vibes kept me going. There was some pushing there was some shoving, there was a long walk from the concert to a small place still open for homemade Mexican sopes and tortas. Getting up from that wooden bench in the wall eatery (literally, there was a right dark hallway to get to eat, probably scary for some to venture at 1 am in Tijuana) was hard.

As we shared out sopes and torta my husband and I enjoyed our relaxing late dinner. The walk from the fonda to the hotel was just a few minutes but it felt eternal. Our muscles had relaxed, our adrenaline was long gone and our 30+ plus body felt it. We drunkenly changed into pjs and fell to our bed.

My shoulder hurt all night and I didn’t sleep well but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I woke semi early, did a quick yoga routine, took a hot shower, got ready and walked to a nearby cafe. I sit here by the pool drinking a Mexican Mocha and enjoying some pastries. I don’t want this to end. The quiet is recharging. The stillnes makes my heart content. Today my life chaos continues. The crazy loud kids, work and the noisy coworkers, the routine continues. But I will always have this. This will live forever with me.

Today is the day

I write this while I rest before getting ready for my much anticipated concert from a hotel in Tijuana, Mexico. Mexico gets a bad reputation, but Mexico is a beautiful country with humble and caring people.

After checking in to our hotel which happens to be less than 1 mile from the concert’s venue we decide on going for lunch. My husband took me to a local seafood place, the place was packed. Like people in line outside to get in. It’s also very loud, music playing, families having a great time, busy servers and kids laughing. I take a deep breath and look down. My husband holds my hand as they direct us to a table, slowly tightening his hand around my fingers. He does that to let me know he’s there for me. He will protect me. I can count on him if I suddenly can’t take it anymore.

They sit us at a smaller section. He tells me, “I was worried, it’s a bit quieter here don’t you think?”. It is. I don’t look around. I concentrate on my husband’s face and my food. They keep me focused. We ate delicious octopus tacos.

Then it’s coffee time. We took a small stroll around the streets close to our hotel and found a great coffee place. I can see the stadium where today’s concert will be from outside the coffee place. I can’t wait. I have Xanax in case my anxiety decides to take over. I’ll be right in the front section. I’m nervous, excited and ecstatic. But it could be the Vietnamese coffee I had.

I write when my soul needs it

I’ve been away a few days. The only reason I have is that I’ve been feeling very good. I tend to write when I feel like I have no escape and my thoughts are preventing me from breathing. I write when I feel that tightness in my chest, when my brain is non stop with random thoughts. I haven’t felt that lately.

I ended up having a really bad fall which hurt my shoulder which I’m currently on muscle relaxers/pain killers for. It was as simple as me slipping on a small mop water puddle at home. It’s getting better so I have cut back on the medication. This past weekend was very special. My husband bought concert tickets for a Guatemalan singer whom I love back in November and kept it a secret for 3 months. He surprised me for valentine’s day with concert tickets. We got to get away to Los Angeles for 2 days with no kids. I was hurting due to my shoulder injury but I enjoyed myself so much. It gave me a glimpse of who I used to be. It made me realize how much I love my husband and how much he loves me. I had to have a few drinks to relax and forget the fact that I there were so many people so close to me and it was going to be loud. By the time it started I was pretty much in my comfort zone. Yes, I know alcohol is not the best way to cope with this however once in a while I don’t think it’ll hurt. I dressed up and felt beautiful.

We had the best of times. We had a awesome view from our hotel, I wish I had remembered to take a picture at night. The view was stunning.

We also visited one of my cousins in Compton, CA. And I bet you’ll recognize this place. My cousin took us out for delicious Thai food.

Before the concert ended, my husband gave me a second surprise. He surprised me with concert tickets again for this Saturday March 17 for another one of my favorite singers, Residente in Tijuana, Mexico. I couldn’t believe it, I cried because he has shown me so much love lately. Sometimes I forget that he loves me. Sometimes he is so busy and doesn’t take the time to be with me. I think he has noticed that lately. He has been working so hard to build our relationship and bond even tighter, and it’s working.

On a side note, if you have access to Netflix check out this singer’s documentary, it’s a great watch. Also called Residente, don’t worry it’s in English.

I have a new vision of the life ahead of me with him. I feel more connected than ever with my husband. I feel our love strengthening. I feel we are growing together and have reached a different stage in our lives.

On another note, I’m also starting to feel a bit old. My first-born who is 11 has stinky armpits and had to wear deodorant now. Why do they grow up so fast?

I was building myself back up

Last time I wrote I was heartbroken. My husband had made a comment that hurt me so much, that broke me. I felt my whole world crushing, like this man I had been with for over a decade didn’t care about me. I did all that for thoughtless comment he made. Yes it wasn’t the best comment, but was it worth over a decade of a life together?

We spoke, he obviously felt like shit. He realized on his own how shitty his comment had been and how stupid. How he didn’t think when he said it. He apologized. We’ve had several deep talks since then. I opened up about losing my best friend recently. By that I mean our friendship. I hadn’t had the courage to tell him because I wasn’t sure if it was real. It is. She no longer wants to be part of my life.  It was very hard for me to confess to him that I felt so heart-broken for that too. It felt great to have that release and have his support.

I’ve started running again. I forgot the freedom it gave me. sometimes when I run all I hear is my heart beating, my breath, I hear my feet stomping, I feel the earth on my shoes. It feels liberating to be out there, no one holding me back or dragging me down. But it’s also scary because that is sometimes when my mind can go wild. I feel it finds me vulnerable, free of thought and it comes and attacks. Then all these thoughts come to me and try to take over. Have you heard voices before? I sometimes wonder how much is just me. The voice I hear is most of the time me. Just me telling myself things. But it has to be someone else otherwise who is it that listens but me? I don’t know if I am explaining myself. I can hear my voice talking and telling me things, but I can hear, that means it’s not me talking. I’m just listening, trying to ignore it, but sometimes validating its points. I am afraid of admitting this to anyone.

I’ve had really bad episodes in my life and I tell my husband that I feel like I’m going crazy. He loves me unconditionally and I don’t know how he would react if I ever told him that I hear this voice in my head. Would he continue to love me unconditionally? Would he now believe me that I am going crazy? I sometimes think he lives in denial. He loves me too much and cannot bear the thought that there might be something more serious with me that needs special medical treatment.

What scares me the most is that sometimes I don’t just hear myself talking. I’m not the only one in my head.

Ever had your heart crushed while waiting for pizza?

Yesterday we decided to go out as a family for early dinner and haircuts. During dinner I mentioned to my husband how I wanted to do something. He said he was very happy that I wanted to do something. What do you mean by something? He went on about how he can’t be someone who just goes to work comes back and sits on the couch. He has the drive to always have a set goal and when he’s done reaching that one he already has another one coming and that he’s working on. I asked, “Are you implying that I have no drive?”  Him, “I’m not implying that you don’t have a drive, I am saying you don’t have a drive.” I was crushed. We hadn’t even been served our dinner yet, I hadn’t finished a drink and I was crushed.

I couldn’t look at him in the eye. My face felt numb. I felt my eyes being filled with tears. I couldn’t hold back. Tears ran down my cheeks while I scrambled quickly to grab a napkin to wipe my tears before my kids noticed. Too late. My oldest saw it, and asked are if I was crying. I said no and I tried to act normal. My appetite was gone. I managed to eat a bit and got up to use the restroom and let it out. I regained posture and came back. He noticed he hurt me. He noticed I didn’t eat.

We didn’t talk to much the rest of the night. Today I woke up earlier than him. I can’t say to his face what he made me feel. I sent him a message saying that he hurt me. That I do have a drive to do things, that I want to do things. But I will never be like him. That I’m here while he pursues his dreams. That I loved him so much but that he hurt me and today I am still hurting.

He replied “forgive me, I didn’t know what I was saying.” That’s it.

I’m crushed. My heart is in tiny pieces. We have three children together. He travels, we go by his schedule. By his life, by his successes. We do things based on his availability. I’ve lived all these years seeing him accomplish his dreams and grow while I stay behind and take care of the household and children while keeping a full-time job and battling my depression and anxiety daily. My children are my drive. I wake up in the mornings and decide to fight one more day to live in this life because of them. I wonder if he’s ever had the drive to fight daily to survive one more day. I wonder.