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boyswanna-be-her · 2 years ago

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I spent the last five days & nights w BFR, and before that we'd spent TWENTY of the previous 25 days together, usually only pausing to sleep separately. And although we'd been joking about it, I didn't actually realize what a mindfuck for me specifically it would be to spend several years alone and then most of a month with someone and then need to abruptly be apart for two weeks.

Emotionally on a day to day level that's just so not an issue. I spent years and years of my past relationships craving freedom and alone time and the ability to do whatever i want whenever i want it without waiting on someone else or having to take their opinions into account. I was definitely sweating being lonely and probably I still will eventually feel lonely on this trip--but getting on the highway today to head to Denver ended up feeling good and familiar and right.

But this morning was not that way. PTSD is fickle and I'm still learning my triggers. Being around someone I really care about is dredging up a lot of things that didn't get metabolized in my last relationship. And this morning, I woke up at 1 am on my couch with BFR in a full-on panic. Something about the fact that we'd fallen asleep in front of a movie instead of bed was the first thing that set me off (idk man, idk). I woke them up, they said they would come to bed, I went to bed in my panic and put on sleep noises and exhaustion managed to override the panic and I cried myself to sleep assuming I'd wake up w BFR.

I woke up again at 4:00. They hadn't come to bed from the couch. Legitimately I recognized that this meant nothing but that didn't matter. My mind has gone FULL police sirens now. I go back to the couch. They fully wake up and apologize for falling back to sleep and make room for me and I try to get comfortable w them on the couch but NOPE somehow this process makes my mind actually tip from being skittish to having a full-blown anxiety attack. I realized after a minute of sitting with the feeling of overwhelming panic and terror (which it took me TWO more hours to identify as a panic attack btw wrow) that none of the feelings were coming from the sleeping situation, but I failed to figure out WHERE they were coming from. So Iay there on the couch trying not to sob, so so so fucking confused about what was happening beneath the surface of my consciousness.

I just couldn't parse it. Like, BFR is great and our time is great but I don't know them well enough to be in love with them or even to miss them THAT much. Like christ, not sobbing over it! Not heart beating like I'm running type of upset.

Finally after I'd done every errand and packing task I could think of, I was still sobbing off and on so went to my Mom's place for a xanax (she was sleeping but luckily my dad knew where she keeps them). Then i came home abd I woke BFR up and basically said "i think I'm having a panic attack and I could use some company, like, fucking yesterday about it, and at least until the xanax i just took kicks in." And they got up and got their act together and immediately started uhhh taking care of me in a healthy way. Just sat with me and listened, said everything was going to be ok. And I talked at them and cried and cried and finally worked out that it had been a panic attack since I woke up at 1:00, I just had been deflected thinking it was bc I was sad to leave BFR.

In reality, there was this deep and abrupt CERTAINTY that I woke up with that my life had somehow fundamentally changed overnight and there was nothing I could do about it. It's almost 24 hours later and I'm still all shaken up to even approach understanding that headspace, but there it is. Between the fast onset of Jonathan's mental illness, his unexpected suicide, and the really awful way D ended their relationship with me a few weeks after Jonathan died, I have a very deep-seated belief that everything in my life can and will change without warning, for the extreme worse, ESPECIALLY when I feel safe, secure, loved, and excited about my future.

I just woke up and "knew" that it was all changing. I felt deeply that one or several devastating events were going to take place once I left town. Top on my list, when I drill into it, is that one of my parents or friends will get a devastating injury and/or die before I can say goodbye (lmao no idea where that comes from 🙄). It also felt/feels (when I let myself feel it and put it into words) 85% likely that BFR will change their mind about me while I'm gone and pretend like all of this never happened. Which honestly when I look at it with my logic brain is even less likely to happen than someone dying.

So I really got in there and sat with those feelings. It only helped a little bit to say it all out loud to BFR. It only helped a little bit to get their reassurance. That's how it is with this shit: it's not logical or evidence-based, so you can't logic your way out of it.

Eventually the Xanax got me, and I fell asleep in bed with BFR being the best and watching me and stroking me and waiting for me to either wake up on my own or need to be woken so I didn't miss my day of travel.

I slept HARD for two hours. When I woke up they were there waiting for me, sitting in bed. They had quietly continued cleaning my apartment, as well as gathering up all the snacks they had to send with me on the road trip today.

I felt so much less insane after the third attempt at sleep. Without talking through it AND a healthy dose of a sedative, I don't know that I would've been able to get on the road. I cannot think of a time other than during the sheer ego death of Effexor withdrawal in December when I was that completely panicked and inconsolable and SCARED.

I was two hours behind but after all that i was ready to go. I got the dogs loaded up and ran into a friend who said BFR was "a cutie" and we "would be a perfect couple" (i'll tell her later we already are 💕). I finally dropped them off on their side of town and hit the road for my first leg to Tennessee.

It is definitely taking lots of bandwidth for BFR to be there for me in the way that they are currently showing up. I know more about their history now and it makes me even more appreciative of the monumental effort it has taken to let someone new into their life. They had therapy this afternoon (let's goooo weekly therapy havers!!) and I could absolutely tell by the VERY serious tenor of their texts this evening that they'd been talking about us in therapy which is 1. Something a partner has NEVER done before, I'm always begging my partners to get therapy and they dont and 2. Incredibly fucking encouraging/affirming that they are indeed putting thought into me and I'm not stupid to be doing all the communication groundwork to build something nice. Shit is so pleasantly NOT one-sided. Like my last therapy sesh was me asking how I can avoid becoming codependent and wrecking my own life for someone, and their sesh had an apparent focus on communication with me and how to be vulnerable with me. The fuck? How healthy? Go off, I guess. We had a really thoughtful and helpful communication session (I had to pull over while driving but I did so happily bc it's really worth it), which in retrospect was not an easy conversation for either of us. We both were acknowledging some difficult truths about ourselves and setting expectations for what that means about a relationship. It's honestly quite doable things to overcome, and EARLY to be digging in, but it's also really fucking helpful to be in the loop with what they're thinking/fighting and I'd imagine vice versa.

But they sent me thoughtful texts all day (more than I sent them), did their yoga class, therapy, called me once I was settled in the hotel, listened to my stories about the day, asked if I wanted to stay on the phone and watch a movie together. I went to the hotel gym instead. Solo travel is going to be tough on my sobriety, and getting physically worn out has been helping a lot. Doesn't matter much what I do--just gotta tire out the software by running the hardware or something like that.

So. It was an awfully hard day. BFR took it in stride but I did not. I tripped up and kind of rolled down a fucking jagged hill. But all I can do is show up and try again and not sweat it too much that PTSD is going to be a part of my life until it's not. There's a lot that makes it worth it right now.

I think I have a lot of potential to create something special and rare with this person who has found me. Usually when someone cares about me this much and fawns over me and wants to help me in areas where I really need it, I find it a huge turn off. That's always made me feel misanthropic, but idk. Maybe there was always some thin-slicing going on and I felt that there would be a catch. But with BFR there's something I recognize there. The care they give me isnt a donation, or an investment, or a down payment. They genuinely like to see me succeed, like to see my pain eased or erased, even when there's nothing they can gain from me. They're happy to make me happy in a way that I actually don't think I've ever encountered from someone who was interested in me. Like I hate to just relegate them to the cliche of service top but they are indeed panning out to be someone who gets off in every way by overachieving in helping or pleasing me--and they're talented at making that service-y aspect somethinf that I'm the boss of, instead of making me feel like I'm a pet project or something to be changed.

That's my ramble. Needed to vomit it all out somewhere. I'm retroactively editing so my apologies for the everything. Pictures to come.

#bfr #colorado trip

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