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September Seventeenth - Cheating and Addiction
I don’t really know how to start. I first posted well over a year ago, and in hindsight I don’t particularly care for what or how I was writing. It feels unauthentic, rigid, forced… which it was. Right now, I am just going to write. If nothing else, this can serve as an outlet, which I am in desperate need of.
Starting has always been a problem for me, stopping seems to be just as hard, and right now I HAVE to stop the bleeding.
Small steps.
Break it down into bite size pieces.
Paranoia is consuming me. It stems from a guilty conscience and has crept into every facet of my life. I am not okay. I have not been okay, and the hopelessness starts to sink in when I look back on my life and realize just how long I have been struggling for.
Addition have plagued the entirety of my adult life. Severe paranoia, an inability to control my thoughts and the constant surrender to impulsivity seems to be the theme… Is it really impulsivity if it happens regularly?
I need to control my thoughts and change my decision-making process. People pleasing, the power of saying no - these are simple things that I can work on right now. Initially, that was my goal for September, and like everything else in my life it has been earmarked for tomorrow. Well, it is now September 17th, and nothing has changed. One major hurdle that I need to overcome is my obsession with relationships and ruminating thoughts. I am frequently trapped in negative thought loops, tormented by hallucinations of my partners' (ex) actual or perceived infidelity. What about this? What about that? Did this happen? Did that happen? In the end, it always comes down to one question; Did she have someone else’s dick in her mouth? For me, the blowjob is so much worse than sex, and that fear is debilitating.
At this point, there is not a part of me that believes that nothing happened. Sometimes I feel confident that I have accepted it, but before I know it, I am back to replaying, rethinking, rehashing, The last and a half was supposed to be spent focusing on me, healing from the decades of abuse. Instead, I've spent an unquantifiable amount of bandwidth trying to determine if the past has repeated itself… It has completely consumed me.
When I was cheated on the first time, I recall thinking about how unequipped I was to handle the situation. My obsessive nature leads me to search for 100%, unequivocal truth, leaving no stone unturned in the process. This served me well while building my career in commercial real estate, landing an executive role at age 32. My ability to root out bullshit was extremely valuable in an industry overrun with untrustworthy people. However, the stress of the workload was detrimental, and when I finally came up for air, I realized that the neglect to my personal life had some very serious consequences.
The truly maddening part of being cheated on is the unknown. Was it harmless texting, casual flirting, the exchange of photos? Or were they meeting up at an Air BnB to fuck, or sucking dick in a parked car somewhere? Were they acting with complete impunity for the entirety of the relationship or was it an act of passion on a day when their morals slipped away? The innuendo's, the whispers, the anxiousness. What is the secret, and will anyone ever tell you? The unknown, the lies, the bullshit is the worst part. As a drug addict, I understand the irony. I have spent every day attempting to hide my inability to stay sober and hurting the people I love.