My Safe Place Isn't

So where do you go when your safe place isn't safe anymore?

It's left me in a quandry.

I always had a place to go that seemed as if the people there had some inkling of what sort of freakishness was going on in my head, even if they couldn't always help me. Now it seems to be gone (hopefully it's temporary). I'm pretty lost.

There's a website I visit that offers great support for beepers. I scan it daily and read the posts/answers of the moderators and administrators that I admire. They've successfully found their way back through a combination of drug and psychiatric therapy, as well as using the tools brought to us by such venerable professionals as Marsha Linehan et al. But suddenly it's turned into a seething pit of viperous danger and I'm no longer sheltered and secure. And unfortunately for me, it's happened during a time when I'm going ga-ga anyway. What the hell?

Now what? See, I've made a pact with myself not to take it out on my husband. He's a singularly bright man, so he knows something's up as he recognizes signs of emotional storms such as blankly staring off into the distance, isolation, and the utter desolation in one's face when you simply don't know how to get rid of the swirling maelstrom within one's skull. Yup, he's seen it. And yet I keep trying to make things 'normal'....unfortunately, doing entire loads of laundry made up just of hankies is a bit of an indicator that things are NOT all they seem.

Last night he came down and found me with my hands knotted up in my hair, knees pulled up to my chest, sitting in front of the computer, reading from that site. "Come to bed," he says.
"Why?"
"You need rest."
"There's no point in going to bed just to lie there and dwell on not sleeping."
"No, but you'll be with me."

Point taken.

Actually, there was a bit more in there, but I went. And I slept; I have to tell you, this illness really sucks HUGE CHEESEY DONKEY BALLS. I wish I had a link to a picture for that. Oh Absent Minded Housewife, can you find me a link for Huge Cheesey Donkey Balls?

Still working tho. Next week things will get better. How do I know? I just do. Because I'll read more of my books and I'll find something else that refers to me and I'll put it into practice. Maybe even tonight things will get better, who knows?

Did I tell you that I saw a dog get hit by a car on Sunday night? That really capped a bad fuckin' day.