Post 15
Are you there Satan? It's me, Morganne.
Guess the only way to start, is exactly where I ended prior to now. We were discussing how I had taught myself how to physically, emotionally, internally, shut my own feelings and emotions down. ENTRIRELY. To the point that I felt nothing, about anyone, or anything. My babies were the only exception. THE ONLY EXCEPTION. It was like living on an episode of the Vampire Diaries, where Klaus, Damon, and Stefan could all shut off their emotions and feel nothing at all, that was my life, in the present. My filters were gone, my natural "Morganne feels bad for hurting everyone's feelings" responses? Gone. My "walking on eggshells for everyone in my life just because I don't want to upset anyone or ruffle any feathers?" Gone. I had me. And that's all I needed. No one knew what to do with me at this point. I shocked even myself, on how brutal and wicked I was becoming, day after day, without him. If people could've lived up inside of my head, for those first three months, they would've personally admitted me into a straight jacket. (Where I would've requested mine in hot pink and glitter, DUH ;))
I just wanted you to know that because of you, I became a monster, first him, now me. My family is in an absolute tornado of emotions right now. And as of today, because of you, I don't know if we will make it. I really don't know. Let that sink in a little.
So, Satan, now this Jekyll/ Mr. Hyde creature/ somewhat human citizen living under the same rood as myself, is deathly ill. He has been in the downstairs bathroom 85% of today, which I suppose sucks for him. No one enjoys being THAT sick. He's been so unbelievably hateful for the most part, but me being me, I still somewhat felt bad, made him food he so kindly refused (NOT), and sent him to Rylon's room to sleep. You're probably asking yourself, what on earth does this have to do with me? Well, funny you should ask. I find it sad on my behalf, forever feeling sad. Because if I weren't already having the very worst Monday, with Oscar in the other room, cussing me out every half hour, just in attempt to get my attention, for no apparent reason... but about every 2 1/2 hours, he chooses to do a huge shot, thinking that it's going to subside some of the pain, and gets absolutely belligerent, to make my day that much more interesting. What a joke, right?
I just find it extremely hard to believe, that someone who claims they cannot pick their own head up, to open their eyes, eat, or drink anything, has the strength to make a shot up, find a vein, and steadily hold a needle in their arm, without missing even once. He didn't skip a beat. Each time, more precise than the last. It's mesmerizing to me, really. You're officially pulling me away from him. He's supposed to be my ONLY, my soul mate, the one put on this planet to love me, unconditionally. Did you know that? And because of you, I'd almost rather be alone. I'm just afraid that if I'm not there, to watch his every move, telling him when enough is enough, then well, Satan, he'll die. If i kicked him out today, I truly believe he would be dead within 60 days, maximum. I hate you. I hate you more and more every time I see that LOOK in this face. It makes my stomach queasy, and I hate you for it. My head is spinning thinking about it. I'm done for this session. We can pick back up another time today. Just not right now.
Appreciate you letting me vent, and wish you'd just leave my family be for a while.
See ya later Satan,
Morganne
