Took a Ginormous Leap

So much has changed in my life over the last year and a half...

I was diagnosed as bipolar. I'm now permanently disabled because of it. I've lost my children because of it. I lost another relationship because of it. But it was one I don't think was ever really real. He helped me, but we never were able to be what the other needed. So, we decided it would be best to be friends and nothing more.

I moved.

I took a ginormous leap and moved.

And I'm not talking moving down the street or the next town over.

I packed myself up and moved halfway across the country to be with someone that I never stopped loving.

Yup. I moved halfway across the country to be with Finn.

Me. The one with anxiety problems. The one who has panic attacks in Walmart because there's too many people in the store. The one who pushed almost all friends aside and became mostly a hermit. I boarded a bus on July 5, 2013, and for the next 30 or so hours rode closer to the person who has held my heart for almost five years now.

I came out to visit for a few days at the end of April/beginning of May. I was hit with so many memories, so many emotions. I never expected that. Everything hit me like a ton of bricks. I came out thinking I was visiting a friend and ended up realizing I was visiting the second half of my heart. All the feelings I had for Finn were still there. All the feelings I tried to suppress while with M. Seeing Finn again, I couldn't deny what I felt. Being in his arms again, I couldn't deny anything. I could no longer deny that I ever stopped loving him. When I left to go back home, I cried. I cried because I knew I was leaving a huge piece of myself behind.

And then I had to tell M all of that. When I told M that I didn't think I ever stopped loving Finn, I could see the crushing blow I had just dealt him. At that point, M and I were no longer a couple...we stopped being a couple in February when he broke up with me while I was in the mental hospital. Actually, it had been longer than that. We were just going through the motions of being a couple for a long time. But he still cared for me, said he still loved me but loved me enough to let go and want me to be happy. It was very freeing to finally allow myself to have the feelings I had kept stifled.

So here I sit at Finn's computer as I type this. He'll be home from work soon. There is no more missing him. There is no more missing waking up next to him. There is no more missing falling asleep next to him. There is no more missing being in his arms, kissing his lips, being one with him. I'm where I belong. Where I've always belonged, but didn't want to admit it. I knew all this three years ago, but couldn't admit it. Our relationship has changed...we will never have what we once did, so we are making new memories as we join our lives together.

So many people go through life without knowing what true love is. What it's like to have someone know you better than you know yourself and vice versa. What it's like to feel whole when you're with another.

I lucked out.

I know what true love is. And I live with it every day of my life now.

I HATE THIS DISEASE

First off, I must say (picture hearing a seething voice, through gritted teeth),

"I hate this fucking disease."

I hate the fucking pain that's associated with it.

My husband was trying to say good bye to me before he left for work. Lately, he gets a bit frisky to make me think of him during the day (I do that anyway, I don't need the friskiness, although it is nice). So, this morning, he pushed down a little too hard on my belly. I saw stars. He quickly got up and practically ran out the door with barely an "I love you".

I fucking hate it. No one deserves this. He doesn't deserve it. My kids deserve a mommy that's not sick.

Even on medicine, I still get sick. True, the flares are longer in between, but they still come. Then, this feeling comes on again.

I'm not doing a pity me sch peal. I'm just venting. One needs to do that. And I apologize for the strong language.

I first got sick at age 17. I'm 33 now. I've had two hospitalizations. I've had two blood transfusions. The first transfusion later almost made me lose my pregnancy with my son because of some really rare antigen in it. I miss out on so much because I get too sick to partake in anything. I will have this for the rest of my life. There is no cure; only maintenance. Fucking great.

And, now to be shunned by my husband.

I fucking hate this disease.