"I heard there was a secret chord
That david played and it pleased the lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?"

I managed to drag myself through last night without hurting myself, or getting high, but keeping those promises didn’t come easy.

I cannot stand myself, right now.

I try to shrug it off when well-meaning people say unhelpful things, but God damn…  I am so hypersensitive, right now.  I overreact like mad.  I know I’m off, at the moment, so, I try to supress my knee-jerk reactions to things.  But, the post acute withdrawal, the bipolar deal, and some crappy hormonal stuff are making life a [email protected] barrel of laughs, right now.  Physically, I am cramping (both my lower abdomen and my muscles – my back is in knots), and sweating, periodically.  Psychologically…  I’m a complete head case.  I have enough lucidity to see that I make very little sense.  I tell myself it doesn’t matter if nothing makes sense, or if it’s all [email protected] up, because I am kicking, and as long as I can do that, it’ll all be better than it was.

Because, it has to be.

"Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah"

I’ve been doing things to feel better about myself – being creative, and trying to give a little something back, but…  I feel insufficient in every way, at the moment.

I wear people down, when they try to care about me.  RIght now, I feel like a nut-job, and a burden, and I am really, really afraid.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

Charlie was just playing guitar.  Then, suddenly, he says he’s going out – alone.  We haven’t lived like husband and wife, in some time, but we’ve remained companions (spending all of our free time together).  He took his guitar, to go play music, at the beach.  And, he said he might stop by this dude Ben’s place on the way back.  (That guy hates me, btw.)  I asked how long he’d be gone.  He said, maybe an hour, maybe three.  He says he honestly doesn’t know. 

He seems to be distancing himself more.  I realize I should expect that.  Some things you see coming (or you should), and they still sting.

I managed not to fixate on this for a while.  On the sadness of it all…

I wasn’t feeling as alone as I had.

Everything’s so unclear.  I didn’t want to have to deal with any of this, yet.  I knew it was there, and that this would all start moving at some point, in one direction, or the other (and I knew which one seemed more likely), but christ…  even in this weird, insufficient, non-sexual, non-marriage that we’ve been living in…  I still don’t know how to let go.  Seven years of my life… 

I started with a new counselor, this a.m. and she asked me what I wanted.  From my marriage…  from getting clean…  I had no answers.  I want to be happy.  I know I still love Charlie (I’m sure I always will, no matter what).  Do I still want to save my marriage?  I think at some point I stopped asking myself the question, because it didn’t seem to be my call, anymore.  Now, I see him finally start to pull away from me, and…  it hurts.  Maybe, it’s what has to be, but it still [email protected] hurts. 

"Well, there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you?
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah?"

There were some really dark times, during the years when we were strung, when it occurred to me that addiction, and all the obstacles it produced, didn’t seem to be able to rip us apart.  That left me wondering…  would we survive the opposite?  Would our relationship survive being dragged out into the light?  Would we function, if we weren’t bound to the same thing – if we didn’t have this shared purpose, and need (us against the world!)?  Love and heroin…  pretty seductive shit…  of course, it all went awry.  My instability, with heroin thrown in – it’s a miracle I’m not "I’ve got a fish in my pocket, a fish in my pocket" crazy.  But, I don’t know how to leave, or live another way, and…  I am so scared, right now. 

Charlie kept [email protected] up this kick, early on.  He seemed to want to get high, as much as he wanted to get clean.  Now, he’s a little more reasonable (now that he has a little time, and his head is clearing).  I had to drag him through the earliest days, and actually get around him, at times (when he was in the way of my efforts).  I got him this far, with the kick.  Pulled him through it…  apparently, so, he could stop needing me.  I guess, I always knew things were headed in this direction.  I just tried to focus on other things – things that make it easier, not harder, to do what I am doing. 

"Well there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah?"

Heroin exacerbated my bipolar disorder, and I did things that I wouldn’t have otherwise done.  Now, that shit is starting to clear, and I am left to confront the things that I had numbed out.  Things that happened back when, like the rape…  (which I’ve really only talked about, in any detail, a couple of times in my life).  And, things that are presently happening – like the evaporation of the life I’ve known.  The life I’ve known how to live…

It hurts. 

I want to be sane, but I don’t want to see these things.  I don’t want to think about them.  I don’t want to think about the things that have happened to me, or the things that I’ve done, but my mind coughs up these memories.

"Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah"

I am too much to deal with.  I hate feeling like a burden.  I’m like a plague, or something.  I contaminate people with my [email protected] dysfunction.

And, I bitch too much.

I am so alone, right now.  I don’t know how to stop feeling this way.

"Well, maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And, it’s not a cry that you hear at night
And, it’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah…

Hallelujah…

Hallelujah…" (Jeff Buckley, "Hallelujah")

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