head chess

Now that I've got weekly visits with my psychologist lined up, I've gone blank. I waited so hard for this and now I'm blank. The writing I did yesterday was intended to provoke myself, and while I think it reads well, didn't seem to prompt any actual need to talk more.

It felt so urgent through his dying. I was in such a state that I couldn't even trust myself to go be with my family through it. I could see and feel and remember, and I was so angry and obnoxious, I could barely stand to be in the same house with me. Now I'm just. Blank.

When I think about the bolting part- I really, really do not trust me not to bolt at some point. I have vague memories of being that, the one who shuts it all off and just does whatever, and I totally get how normal people suddenly disappear and are found later to have just suddenly changed their lives, no explanation why. They go missing and never make contact and you find out later they made a whole new life with new people like they never had this other life in the first place.

I have literally done that. I did that the night I got the call, when I burned the box the next day. That was not ME. And then I recklessly slid into the kind of life I can't even imagine having if I hadn't shut down like that. I was barely there for my own kid. Every time I have strong memories of being more me and actually thinking, they are interrupted with blurry other memories than I can't quite pull into my view now.

Things I want to know-

• The framed print on the wall had a heart, and there was a dark spot that I would stare at, but I can't seem to nail the exact print in vintage searches. I want to see that again so I can read those words in the dark spot.
• What my dad said about her dad.
• Other things I don't want to share with anyone, but not because they're bad. More like because they wisped out of my grasp and I can't get them back.

I don't remember having any mixed up feelings like this at all since I met Scott and got away from my dad for good. Yes, I get angry and have meltdowns occasionally, like breaking the door frames. I contain it and squash it down. Nothing about this marriage or living here has been any kind of bad like so much before was. If anything, it's been majorly boring more than anything, and somewhat emptyish, but at least it has been normal real life.

BUT. I have been living a double life this entire time. There is the me out here and the me in my head. That's normal, everyone does that. But the me in my head doesn't like sharing secrets with the me out here. Is that normal? Is it normal to ask myself what's going on and being diverted or lied to or stared at?

Yeah, that's where we cross the line. I can see me staring at me sometimes. I never bolted from Scott, and I shut that other me off over it as hard as that me shut me off over the previous messy mishaps. We're at a standoff, like a stalemate.