Memory Dump

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Girl, you are screwed.

On these pages, I used to say with some frequency that if I'm not writing, everything is likely okay. No more. Not writing now means that I am slipping into depression and/or compulsive behavior.

Where to start? It's been a long time. I hate when bloggers apologize for their extended absences, so I'll say that I regret not staying the course. Festering things have been left unsorted. Let's see what we can cover.

It has been a loveless summer. There is feigned warmth from both of us, but there is tension and discomfort beneath. Neither of us is sure whether to lean in for a kiss anymore. It used to be like breathing. To paraphrase a country song, I stopped shaving my legs for this? She has no real duty to reinforce me playing along with the husband role, but it might be in her best interest to. I may not return to it so readily next spring.

The drive to feel completely myself is getting harder to fight. I have begun compulsively shopping for Leslie items online. I made my first order with Hanes, which came in yesterday. A waist cincher! I wore it for about seven hours in the evening. A tad small, I fear, but I can take it. Better posture, and breathing counts as an aerobic workout. I also have an order coming from Payless, two pairs for $32. And, I joined ShoeDazzle over the weekend. No slacker in the shopping department, am I?

My other compulsion is wasting hours playing games on the computer. Mah jongg, Freecell, and something my boy downloaded called Bejeweled Twist. The latter feeds something in me that loves finding patterns, the same thing that had me playing Tetris for years. I feel terribly guilty to be spending my time in such a useless pursuit, but feeling unloved may be leaving me endorphin-deficient. There, I managed to blame it on her.

I acknowledged in therapy yesterday that I am at a dead end on this marriage road I've chosen, but I seem unable to turn around and seek a new direction. I just keep trying to find a path through. I complained that changing course requires effort, pain, and courage. "M" quickly pointed out that leaving things as they are also requires effort, pain, and courage.

She asked me the miracle question next: If you were to wake up tomorrow in your perfect situation, what would it look like? I hesitated for a long while. Maybe I didn't want to say it out loud. I wake to a life where I am living successfully as a woman. I have had GRS and FFS. I have retained my job, which I really like, even if I'm not getting rich. I have friends who I see often, and we enjoy one another's company. I have a social life. I am out from under my crushing debt.

As I write this, hours later, I realize that I failed to say anything about my existing family. Probably pretty important, that omission, and I'd wager that M noticed it. It's a measure of my frustration in my current situation that my family isn't a part of my idealized life.

I told M that I am profoundly unhappy with my life. I am being pulled by horses in two directions, and something will have to give eventually. The upside of having no affection at home is that I have less reason to stay on this failed course. I'm not ready to give up yet, but the reality of this losing hand is becoming more evident to me. And yes, I am the last one to come to this realization.