Saturday, November 27, 2010

A Thirteen Letter Word

While I was at school I became... ill. I was physically sick for a little while, but most of it was psychosomatic (13 letter word by the way). I was, still am, depressed. I found out less than a week before I was to go back to school that I had rheumatoid arthritis, and I probably had it for several years. If it was just the RA, I would've been fine, but the doctors, for reasons unknown to me, wanted to keep testing my blood. They started throwing around scary words like lupus, and I let myself shut down. My mom handled all the details, and I just stuck my arm out for the needle. Needless to say, I don't handle stress well.

I know it had to be tough on The Boss Man, but we never really talked about it. We still haven't really talked about it. I honestly don't remember much about the time after the doctor gave me the test results. There's one thing I do really really well and that is protecting myself. I'm very good at that. If I feel I'm being hurt or threatened, I lash out. I drive the offending party away. Even as I write this, the me that is me is running screaming in the opposite direction, trying to force me to follow.

Because I'm so very good at keeping myself locked away, safe and sound, I don't like losing control. I hold so tight to my control it's hard for me to do certain things. Things like, standing with my back to a door, window, or people, letting myself be touched, letting the person who does my hair wash it, or cut it. Something about having somebody stand behind me with scissors sets off every warning bell I have, and I spend the entire time so tense I can barely move when she's done.

So, knowing all this, imagine how hard it is to trust someone who lives 300 miles away. I'm not exaggerating when I say I am hell on our relationship. Trust doesn't come easily to me, and trusting The Boss Man is a whole hell of a lot harder than trusting the lady who cuts my hair. The difference between him and her is he's 300 miles away, out of my control. He could be doing all sorts of stuffs I'd rather not think about, and I wouldn't even know. I'd have know way of knowing. I know he's not. He's sitting on the other end of a Skype call playing some game I will never understand.

I did have a point to this post. I'm not just talking to here myself talk. I believe what I was trying to say was, I know The Boss Man's that elusive "one". Who else would stick with all the hell and abuse I put him through in the beginning our relationship. When The Boss Man found out about my past, he didn't judge me, he wrapped his telephone arms around me, and held me close. When he set me down and told me I had to stop what I was doing because no matter what he was never going to leave, I knew I was stuck with him.

Anything psychosomatic deals with the affect the brain has over the body. Rene Descartes said, "I think therefore I am." Psychosomatic. Well, for me it's not just the brain. My heart and brain are at war with each other. My heart is leading me down a path towards The Boss Man, while my brain is yanking me away from all the potential hurt. If any of you, dear readers, watch Modern Family, you may remember the episode where Hayley broke up with Dylan. Phil Dunphy had a rare insightful moment when he said, "I know it hurts now sweetheart, but that's how you know it was a relationship worth having."

Sure he was talking about the two of them being broken up, but I think he's on to something. So, I'm telling my brain to shut it, and just let my heart feel, whether it's good or bad.

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