Paisley's Journal - The Adventures of Paisley Blue

Paisley's Journal
May 26, 2002

The Adventures of Paisley Blue

I know it's Memorial Day but I cannot even say "Happy.." in front of it. I've awoken with a hangover... nuff said.

It's Monday morning and for the past two nights I have partied hearty. I've drank much more than I had in a more than a month. Ugh. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. LOL

Saturday night Red and Mechanic went off together for the night, and I had a little party here at the apartment. It was actually a lot of fun and I even had a chance to get my groove on. Yesterday morning when Mechanic returned, we shared our adventures of the previous night, and it was all good. He seemed happy for me, and I was happy for him.

However, you don't have to look too far to see why I allowed myself to get sh*tfaced for the past two nights. Here's the honest truth: I feel like I cannot allow myself to feel anything negative about Red's return because it has obviously made Mechanic happy. But by denying myself even the right to *feel* what I feel, it's being buried deeply.

I know I'm only fooling myself. So does that mean I'm not fooled? I am 99% positive that Mechanic feels and knows... how I feel... and I have such a hard time talking about it because I'm not *allowing* myself to feel these feelings. So why am I doing that?

I guess cuz I'm afraid. Without even voicing those fears, Mechanic has been saying the perfect things to reassure me. Which makes it exponentially harder to even consider allowing myself to feel what's being buried inside. I think to myself "If he can be so sweet and understanding, why can't I?"

Okay, I can allow myself to say this much: it's because I know Red wishes I weren't in the picture. If Red were willing to share, like I am, it would be different. But here's the scoop. Red acts very proprietary around Mechanic. I don't even know if Mechanic knows or sees this behavior, but God bless America, I see it.

Yesterday we went with several of our friends to a street festival at Pike Place Market, walking around, looking at stuff, listening to the live music... and anytime I tried to walk next to Mechanic, Red walked around me or between us, and basically edged me out. At one point I started to get angry, and I pushed it down, because I knew that wouldn't accomplish anything.

Of course, it made me have to *think* about why I was angry... and remember, I'm trying to not do that. So I gave up... I resigned... after all, Mechanic seemed so happy... I don't think he really noticed that I wasn't at his side. I don't think he noticed me walking 10-15 feet behind him.

There was one thing that happened there that was unexpected but after pondering the event, made me think that Mechanic does still care a lot about me... I had to go to the bathroom (and if you know me, when I have to go it means I had to go ten minutes ago!) and everyone was just standing around taking a smoke break. I figured I would slip off to the bathroom real quick and return before they were done smoking.

I was actually sitting on the toilet when I heard my cell phone ringing. It was Mechanic and he sounded angry, asking where the heck I was. I told him, and he said to stay where I was, so I said I would. Apparently he had tried calling several times and I missed the calls because I couldn't hear the phone ringing in that crowd. When I saw him outside the restroom, he started yelling at me for disappearing like that. His voice had that edge of panic that someone feels when they are afraid they've lost someone. I felt like sh*t and just wanted to die because I made him yell at me... because I didn't think he'd notice if I was gone for a minute.

Later he apologized for yelling and explained that he had just been really worried about me. He explained that with the big crowd and everything... one minute he saw me and the next he didn't... and I allowed my heart to feel a moment of joy at the fact that he noticed I was gone and he cared.

And then Red edged me out again...

We rented movies last night... I watched Hannibal with Anthony Hopkins and it really f**ked with my head. I had to get out of the crowded apartment for a few minutes afterwards and I almost had to fight my way out. I just needed some air and space... and Mechanic called me on my cell while I was on the roof and said I was making him feel guilty. What could I say to him to convince him that I didn't know that movie would f**k with my head like that??? He brought up the point that I watched the whole Candy Man series and it was grosser than Hannibal... but I don't remember those movies now - and the scenes from Hannibal are burned into my brain right now. I even turned my head away at the worst parts but I didn't miss everything. The best I can hope for is that in a week or two I will have forgotten the movie.

I wasn't trying to make him feel guilty. I swear. But just add that to all the emotions I'm dealing with -- because even though I'm not allowing myself to feel certain emotions doesn't mean they aren't inside me, running amok.

We watched Queens of Comedy after that; I'm so glad we did because I laughed harder than I can remember laughing in a long time. Then people started leaving... and I laid down to go to sleep... and I remember drawing before I fell asleep... and I looked at what I did this morning. It's some of the saddest stuff I've done in a long time. Looking at them, I remember how I was feeling when I did them. There's one picture that has the outline of a face, but in place of features like eyes, nose and mouth, I wrote things... I was writing what the voices in my head were telling me at that moment.

Maybe I should take those two drawings to my shrink on Friday. She'd probably have a field day with them.

So now... it's 11:00 in the morning... I woke up about an hour ago to answer the rude interruption of a ringing telephone. Of course, once I'm awake, I need to use the bathroom. Damn my bladder. And then I sat down at the computer for a minute... to check my email... and figuring that Mechanic would stay asleep for a while on the bed, and figuring that Red would stay asleep for a while on the floor, I thought I would do more surfing for the art gallery I'm building for this website.

And Red woke up and used the bathroom... and climbed right into my bed and snuggled up against Mechanic. I can't tell you the emotions that flooded my heart... the pain... I pushed it all inside like everything else. So even if I wanted to lay down now and get more sleep, now that the Tylenol is getting rid of my headache and I think I could get to sleep again... it's no longer an option.

Do I have to explain why all this pain and everything? Do I have to explain why I won't allow myself to feel it? Because I don't deserve to feel it. I have no right to feel it. It's not my place to have these feelings. There's no reason on God's green earth why I should have these feelings, and since I shouldn't have them, I won't allow myself to have them. But pardon me while I soak my shirt with these tears that I shouldn't cry.

I just really hate myself right now. If Mechanic woke up at this moment and saw me like this I would just die. So I've gotta go. I have to leave for a while. I don't know where I'll go but I just have to... Red can have Mechanic because I can't compete and he won't share.

Ain't that a bitch. I have no where to go but I have to leave my apartment... oh well. I would give Mechanic anything and everything, why not that. If for one moment he looked like he wasn't enjoying himself, maybe things would be different.

And I imagine Mechanic would say something like I'm trying to make him feel guilty. I'm not trying to *make* him feel anything. If I could make an individual feel anything... it wouldn't be guilt. It would be good stuff like joy and love.

That's one reason I got to get away right now. I have to find a way to return to the centered me that lets pain wash over her, and just gives out the joy and love in her heart. I have to find that good girl that's inside me. I might have to cut my way through a bunch of pain to find her, but I'll do whatever it takes.

So if you've made it this far down in this journal entry, I congratulate you. Don't worry about me. I'm a survivor. I will find a way to get through the hour, through the day... whatever it takes. I really and truly am grateful and happy to have Mechanic in my life. He does bring lots of happiness into my world, and I'll do what I have to do - whatever that is - to continue to have the pleasure of his company.

At least, that is, for as long as he wants mine.

UPDATE: It's 7:00 in the evening. I ended up going to the roof and sleeping on a lounge chair for a couple hours, then returning to the apartment. With a little more sleep, followed by some food and Tylenol, I started feeling better. Mechanic and Red woke up and we started talking.

Mechanic was doing his damndest to get me to open up and I just couldn't, not in front of Red. Not to mention that Red stayed on my bed, lounging around, then laying back down, during all this conversation. How could I open up or feel free to say anything in front of him? I just couldn't hurt his feelings... no matter how much pain I was in.

I don't dislike Red. He's an interesting individual, smart, can talk about a lot of things. I can see why Mechanic thinks he's interesting. But you know, he came straight from the airport to our apartment, and his suitcase is still here, two days later. I had earlier asked Mechanic if he and I could do something, just us, today. It didn't happen.

Mechanic kept asking what I wanted to do. We looked up what was playing at our local movie theaters - nothing that we all wanted to see. There was plenty I wanted to see, but they weren't things that interested Mechanic or else Red had already seen them. So we talked about getting videos, but we never did that.

Then we started downloading songs - mostly country songs - and that was fun. I started cheering up. Then I started looking up songs that I knew I would like, Donny Osmond songs... then I started downloading other Mormon songs... and they both laid down and went back to sleep. So I just kept listening to music that was cheering me up. I figured what the hell... I'll make myself feel better, now that I finally found a way.

I mean, Mechanic knew I was not doing well in the head. At one point he was even teasing me about the voices in my head but I didn't think that was very funny. I'd give almost anything to get rid of them - anything but take the anti-psychotic medications that turn me into a zombie. I want to *live* my life, not let it just pass by in a haze.

So all those things I wrote earlier... I was feeling them. But I think I've got everything tamped down well enough that I can be that same ol' happy girl I usually am... and maybe one day Red won't be around for a little while and I can actually talk with Mechanic, if he still wants to...

To be honest, Mechanic has said things like "You're still my woman" and other things to reassure me. So it's not like he's being totally insensitive or anything. I was just a bundle of a mess and didn't know how to verbalize it.

My greatest fear is that if I talk out how I feel, that he won't want to be around... but I have to be me. That's one of the things I've thought about today. I'm not always sweetness and light. I have feelings. I may not always want to talk about them while I process them inside... but they're there. I'm trying real hard to not be a bitch, but if it comes out every now and then, I can only hope that anyone who truly loves me will love me still.

~Paisley Blue

Paisley's Journal logo courtesy of Flaming Text.

http://www.oocities.org/paisley_blue/jour/02/052602.html
Contact webmaster @ paisley_blueATyahoo.com