I had a privileged experience taking the SS Badger to Ludington, Michigan. Then another three hours to my destination. That Wednesday that I arrived in Michigan, it rained almost the entire time I was driving. My anxiety was all over the place. Afraid of getting lost. Afraid of running into rogue animals. Gas prices? What are they here?

I got to my hotel and it was awesome. Very welcoming.

The hotel reminded me of a hotel I used to work for. Very trendy. Very hip. Very friendly.

I finally arrived to my best friend’s home and walked up with anxious anticipation. Thinking to myself. We’ve been friends for many years now. Yet, she could still reject me.

This is my best friend who knew me when the entire deck of my life had collapsed in front, on top, around, and behind me. And I was still questioning her and what she’d think of me. Sure, we look similar to the people we were. We’ve spoken for countless hours on video or phone calls to one another. Plotted how things were going to go when I did finally see her.

Twenty two years had passed. And that visit was nothing short of a miracle. I missed my best friend. I missed what had been missing for so long.

When I got to the front door of her home, I heard an audible long squeal. And I wasn’t sure what was happening. Around the corner she came to face me. Her squeal was excitement in finally seeing me. And here I was, relieved. That monster of a brain of mine was prepping me to go home in grief. Yet, here I was. Happy. Hugging my best friend. Never wanting the moment to end.

As all things do, they end. And I was less excited to get home. Eric has been experiencing one issue or another while I have been gone. No, hi honey, how was the drive. No, I miss you but I’m okay here. And then… I get home. My dogs are elated to see me of course.

I start to get to a routine. Or try to. My back started acting up on vacation. And it was continuing. I went to the doctor and got a note for missing work for a few days. I got together with my niece, Nora on Friday. I got new sunglasses and got home. Showed my sunglasses to my husband. Not one word of compliment. Not one.

This led to an argument. It has been building.

Eric and I come from different worlds. Not like different races or what not. Just different dynamics, income, homelife, influences, religion, mental health strategies… Etc. I came into this relationship with Eric a broken and seething mess. I had no idea how to have a relationship with anyone, let alone him. I loathed myself.

I cheated, spread an STD to my now spouse, and a host of other mental issues. Myself and the children. I had no lead in life. My mom was gone for all intents and purposes. And not by her choosing. I had to figure out how to adapt when no adults tried with me. They just seemed to disappear and give up.

So when I finally get my ducks in a row. Buy a house, a car, money isn’t disappearing exactly before I get it. Fewer overdrafts. A little financial protection. And I can see myself getting better.

Yet things aren’t great. I’m mad. I’m anxious. And I’m done.

But why? Things are good! All things point towards some modicum of personal success over adversity. I’m even talking to my daughter with BPD and I’ve found some ways to keep things in flow without conflict. (For now?)

I clearly still need things. I need affection. Not just sex. Hugs, compliments, the acknowledgement of personal accepting of responsibility from others when I’m clearly not at fault for some things. I’m tired of “the reason”. If others don’t feel this way about me, I feel this way about me.

I’m exhausted. I’m burning the candle on both ends. And the hardest thing for me to say?

I need help.

I need you to give me consideration. To listen. To know that I’m not dodging things. I just don’t know how to develop the skill, the coping mechanism, or to even find a way for my brain to cooperate. Hug me. Once a day. I need that. I need to know why I’m important to you. What is it about me that makes things better. Not just what I fuck up on.  And my fucking up has been negligible as of late. My FICO score has even gone up.

Help me get out of this PTSD loop I’m in. It’s not an excuse because I’ve had a bad day. It’s not because I’m great at complaining. I can’t stop it if you’re not invested with me. Are you in? Or are you out?

The results of the relationship appear on the up and up. He is receptive and trying. Same as me, or similar to. I know that the future looks like I may have a happy life to look forward to. I’m just terrified of what changed will come to fruition. I want to help people.

I think this was an alternative drive for my blog. To know that I’m accepting myself more. That it’s taking pain and awareness for this dysfunction to become strength. That I’m reimagining my life. My future. And others can too.

If you’re reading this and can relate to my words, you’re not alone. And finally, neither am I. Physically and emotionally.