Dependency and Distractions

I have been trying to make constructive use of my aching. Last night, my SP and I sat, both a little down, a little fragile, and talked about our sense of loss.

Her loss is somewhat different to mine. Unlike my technological luxuries, she receives the occasional infrequent email, the even less frequent and problematic, distant phone call and never a text message. She has written a letter, but the post will take a long time. Neither of them have the space or are permitted to express their true loss, their true aching. Emails are brief and vague. And the worst of it is, unlike my rigid diary, my days I am able to strike off as if I have conquered another peak, my time I am able to while away until I reach his return date, or my visit to him, she has no idea if her partner will be home tomorrow or in December, and will never know until he arrives. And even then, there is no permanency, no safety, no relaxation into dependency.

I aspire to her strength. Her puppies have consumed a large amount of her energies, her emotion, her love. They absorb her concentration and attention like hyperactive sponges, they have a need and a reliance on her that she has to accommodate and they draw her away from herself. She is constantly exhausted but fulfils their demands with an intensity and an affection that is quite amazing. It makes me realise for how long I've focused on myself, introverted, selfish. She simply rarely has the time to think and to feel. Her love is passionate and genuine for her puppies, but her actions in other parts of her life are at times merely functions, achingly robotic. Too tired, too scared, to full to think.

Initially we imagined that we would be emotional rollercoasters, dipping and rising and intertwining around one another. But, instead, we are experiencing the lows and the highs, as high as they can go with the emotional restrictions impeding them, together. We have followed each other's lurching emotions, we have synchronised and in unison we experience feelings we have no idea how to address.

We have had many 'he'll be back before you know its' from both of our fantastic support network of incredibly loyal, loving, caring friends and relatives. But we are both trying to find out how to not wish away our lives, how to cope, how to carry on. As I've said before, there are so so many people who have to deal with so much worse.

We discussed last night the precarious balance that neither of us have mastered, that of coping and enjoying our lives but not getting used to being without our partners. We are both dependent people, we both need love and support and security from our partners. And we are both terrified of getting 'used to' being without them. Of this becoming what we perceive as normal. We hold a permanent resistance, but with that resistance comes the understanding and acknowledgement that as a result we are automatically making things harder for ourselves.

We are forever making mistakes, in our thoughts, in our actions, not knowing how to deal with things. Both of us suffered destructive dreams following our talks last night that have hung a shadow over our day, that have made us feel a little disconnected, like we are not really here, there is a sadness that I saw in her this morning that I felt, before we'd even spoken, there is a feeling we are to scared to explore and understand.

My commitment to my work, usually a feverish insistence that ensures the day flies by, is little and unfocused. I have had to enforce tasks upon myself, which isn't helped by dwindling client budgets due to the end of the financial year. I grasp tasks and ideas and then they drain away limply and I am left feeling empty and making another cup of tea.

We are very different, my SP and I. I am emotional, I experience regular convulsions of insecurity and my unfocused conscientiousness, coupled with uncontrollable guilt, means I stress and worry far more than is healthy. She is a lot more practical, she has a control on what is deemed an acceptable commitment to her workload and the activities she undertakes. She manages to compartmentalise her emotions and refuses to think, at least until she sleeps, when she thinks, and dreams over and over.

But we are helping each other. We are loving living together and are able to mould ourselves easily into whatever role the other needs, instantly, responsively. I am drinking a lot, as I have done for months, but last night I just had a glass and maybe will even opt for a warm ribena this evening (if I put it in a wine glass its just like mulled wine without the kick). We are each other's strength, in those times, the morning, the evening, when the aching is at its utmost, before the day comes along with its distractions. Our wonderful friends are our distractions, but, from circumstance, we are where we can indulge in discussing the things we didn't realise we were feeling.