Friday 17 July 2009

The invisible woman


Found on LeLove



Things are... odd.


I feel numb. Completely and utterly numb. I'm not crying (not all the time, anyway) but I'm not laughing. I'm not despairing but I'm not on top of the world. I'm just numb. I feel like I'm in limbo.

Waiting.

Waiting to be told what went wrong. Waiting to be told why I'm just not good enough. Waiting to be told why he ran away. Waiting. All I really want is some answers, then I can make my peace with it and try and understand what happened. Understand what changed so much in two weeks that suddenly I don't exist. That suddenly I don't deserve even the most basic human responses. Those of being acknowledged, of kindness, and a little bit of compassion, of trying to understand how I feel. Of realising how much it hurts to be made to feel invisible.

The past few weeks have contained some of the happiest and some of the saddest times of my life. I realise I'm being rather cryptic in relation to some of them. But all will be explained at some point I'm sure. When I've made sense of it in my own head. It could take a while.

Aside from the cancer, the broken wrist, the realisation that I'm more overweight than I thought I was (seriously, I have inverse body dysmorphia. I think I look great when, apparently, I look like a sow), I also feel completely out of my depth at work. The work piles up on my desk every day, bigger and bigger files keep being passed my way. And, to be honest, right now I have neither the capability nor the inclination to deal with them. My concentration levels are at an all-time low and I can barely even hold a train of thought together long enough to write this post.

I am shambolic.

And the worst bit? It doesn't need to be this way. If he could just look me in the eye and tell me what happened. If he could just show me a little bit of the man I know (and I'm not talking about genitalia here folks, just to clarify). The man who made me feel safe and loved. Who treated me like a princess. Who leapt out of bed to fetch whatever food or drink I wanted to get me through my hangover. If he could just be him. And treat me with the respect I deserve. That I've earned.


Then it wouldn't be this way.