Just Like Me, Only Broken


I keep trying to tell myself I am not broken, completely and utterly undone.

I am lying.  I keep trying, but in reality I have no strength or trust or confidence left to have another man actually in my life.  I am just a huge bundle of emotion running scared and wounded with nowhere to go to ground, nowhere safe to hide.

Before, I was strong.  I could have lived with a man lusting after other women and coming home to me.  I could have survived with a man looking at young, pretty women and been secure in the fact he was coming home with me.  I could have accepted a human could have other crushes but he had promised himself to me.  I could have understood an affair as long as he showed that he truly prefered to come back to me.  I would have been happy and content to share him with the world, as long as I knew he deeply, honorably, loved me.

Now I have no such strength.  Waitresses in restaurants serving comments unnerve me until I am shaking inside.  Pretty girls make my heart race with fear and I cannot look up.  Stray comments burn like dry ice through my veins.   I dissociate just to survive and attempt to wear a brave face but I cannot hide because I wear my emotions like a shroud. 

He is so cold, so unfeeling, no compassion, no pity, no love. 

I do not see how I will ever be whole and strong again.  Every man I sit with I will wonder if he wants me at all.  I use to wonder if they were just settling.  Now I know he wasn’t even settling.  He was just using me while he had every woman he could afford on the side.  I truly meant nothing at all.  I was an accessory, a used up object, a stupid pet that he left home when he was tired of it.  He doesn’t hear me, cannot hear me, has trained only to block out a woman’s voice and heart and needs. 

I will never be secure with a man ever again.  I will always be frightened, panicked, wondering, second guessing.  Is he really thinking of me during sex?  Is he sneaking it on the side?  Am I just being used?  Does he really only desire that young flesh but puts up with me because he can’t get better?  Is he willing to pay for it whenever he can?  Does he hear a word I say?  Am I just a caricature of woman?  Am I nothing to him?

I just wanted someone to love me.  To love me enough to act like it. 

I guess that was asking too much.  I can’t tell the difference.

If some man ever does, I can no longer accept love.

Goddess, help me.

I manifest so many of my fears, so few of my desires.  I have horses, I have beauty, I keep trying to have a garden around me but cannot hold on to one, nor a nice home, nor great health.  I have a man of my absolute darkest fears.  I must decide what I want to manifest.  I will add to my desires book and see what I can create.  I know I have trouble with believing I deserve, anyone deserves, all their dreams manifest.  Kali knows that only destruction brings new growth, and Kali and Pele and I have become fast friends over the years. 

I would rather manifest pahoehoe than a pyroclastic cloud next time.

What of my mother controls me still?  What of her do I manifest, do I hear within, do I run from such that it drives me?  I married the worst of her, after all.  And I thought to escape my fate? 

What am I?  Who am I?  What do I choose?  Where am I going?  What is the point?  What is that ringing trying to say that I cannot hear?  What is the bleeding trying to explain that I cannot see? 

How can I become the fixer/creator/lover/author/liver of all that I am?

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