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« Last post by Hopalong on January 30, 2026, 10:18:02 AM »
Not anxious? Hah. It took a day.
I'm sorry, y'all, but I need to put this out there again.
I need help. My heart was tachy for an hour. It's slowing now, but scary.
I think it has a lot to do with processing what happened, the Poet conflict. I get deeply rocked by that kind of thing. Feel unable to trust her and I think the abandonment and unease I feel are primal. I did push back with plucky assertions and my right to speak -- all true. And I labored over insights, the analytical things (most of which I think were perceptive). But there's another level -- my inner child -- that's not doing well with what happened at ALL.
Reminds me a little of how I felt about telling my D's half-bro that she could not live with me, because my heart literally can't take it. I just can't handle knowing that some lacerating criticism, verbal attack or punishment could happen at any moment if my D (or Poet) were in proximity (emotional if not geographical). Living on alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop, walking on eggshells, all that.
So, Poet does not live here. She is not invited back. I'm letting go and giving up. So why do I feel disturbance enough to affect my heart rhythm? (It's more normal now.)
It's an irrational fear and also a real one. I could say more analytical things about her, but the truth is I think I'm back to the original reason I'm here...Poet is wounded and narcissistic and I was BLIND, floating into her orbit like a ladybug in a breeze. For me it adds up right now to feeling like I'm starving for oxygen in a big room. I feel frail and need comforting. There are not many friends who can hold space for deep anxiety, in my experience. I think it's the hardest task. Feeling protected seems far away. And loneliness, too, can kill. Loads of elderly die of it.
These are the times when living alone, being alone so much, begins to darken. I see also that Poet has manipulated me, lavishing things like "I'm so happy to have a friend like you, your support is so important, don't stop caring about me," etc etc etc." With a clearer mind, I see it as being praised to encourage repeat behavior or obedience. My Nmom did that. But I don't want to demonize Poet; these are survival impulses for her.
Good god, how could I repeat this pattern? I did it with M, the bf, too. He was dynamic and full of himself and the love bombing was head spinning. But say the wrong thing and he'd slice me up like a master chef. Not raging, just using his flow of words to paralyse the listener (me) and eliminate any resistance. I always fought back and eventually freed myself of him, but it's starting to feel like I'm living in a reenactment of the same old inner war. Maybe I need therapy again. I might revisit my old T, the compassionate one (not the Sikh) who knows all about Poet and could probably set me back on my feet, so to speak, in a few sessions. A tune-up.
I have to tend to the scared child inside who's feeling newly alone in the world right now. It's as though a big person injected into my ears some dark, sticky stuff that started to poison me. It's like I have no self-protective filters, sometimes. It all just seeps right in. Maybe I'm too open hearted for my own good.
It honestly also makes me afraid. That because clearly, a person with some of those issues can affect my psyche so much. I can give Poet so much Co-D compassion, pouring it out like a tanker, but am having trouble healing myself. How stable AM I? How sane? How functional? Is this flaw going to take me out soon? This stuff can start a cascade, even a kind of collapse. Hope my heart won't fail. I've been feeling weak, literally, for a long time.
Jesus. I think I've just gone a few rounds with a vampire who "takes too much", as my old T said about her. I know the friendship is over now, but I'm feeling very depleted. Shaken, is the word. Drained. Fearful. The last one is the irrational part.
I'm just never READY for sudden outbursts or controlling commands. "Do not write about this." Shit.
I even feel shame about writing here sooooo much about the same old life lesson. Can you bear with me? (I promise, I'm emailing old T right now. I don't want to poison you guys!)
hugs and thanks,
Hops
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