Confusion

I've been writing more. It's most therapeutic. It's in draft, and I don't know if or when I will publish. Like the last post, I have found that as I write, I am able to clarify things somewhat, bring some semblance of order to the mental chaos that currently consumes me.

The confusion, indecision, uncertainty, hurt, anger..... and many more emotions besides, all of them, along with the severity and acuteness of it all.... it's quite debilitating.

I fluctuate almost on a minute by minute basis, from being 100% certain of one decision, to being 100% certain of another, both of them in strong opposition, with numerous other choices and options floating in and out, sometimes replacing the prime contenders, sometimes just a fleeting fantasy. Minute by minute, pieces of the puzzle fall into place, or new questions and doubts arise, each one with a sickening jolt to my stomach, and many accompanied by a gut wrenching slice to my heart. It is an assault to my intelligence, an affront to my social conscience and an attack upon my trusting nature. It is insulting and embarrassing, and devastating to my self image.

I have cried, I have screamed, and I have sat still for over an hour, unseeing, unhearing, unthinking, truly numb to the world around me as well as that which is within.

I have lashed out with anger, pain, martyrdom, insults, revenge, consequences and pleas. All are to no avail. All are aimed at an unreachable goal, being to stop the pain and sheer awfulness that is my current situation.

It is so all consuming that I get not a moment's peace 24/7. My waking life is consumed, I dream of it, and wake repeatedly throughout the night with nightmares as though I were once again a young child afraid of what lurks in shadows and beneath the bed.

It takes also a physical toll. At first, it was simply a complete loss of appetite and constant queasiness to my stomach, with headaches and puffy, swollen eyes from crying. This escalated quickly to vomiting and frequent trips to the loo. Despite my complete lack of eating, neither of these subsided. Since Sunday I cannot for the life of me manage to feel warm, and frequently find myself trembling. Sometimes for no apparent reason, and at others more easily recognisable, such as in a northern suburbs coffee shop at midday, listening to details of the betrayal.

I would dearly love to state that I had a decision, or that I had even a preference, but I don't. I would be glad to even say with some conviction that I knew in the end I would do the right thing, but again, I cannot. Because for all my strength, for all my ability, and all my outward appearances of those things my friends admire in me and we aspire to be in ourselves, I know that deep within I have my weaknesses.

Somehow worse than that yet at the same time strangely comforting and pride inducing, is that my strengths and weaknesses both work together for me, as well as against. I am strong enough to weather the toughest storm, of which this certainly qualifies, and stubborn and committed enough to see things to their very (and often bitter) conclusion. And so I know I will stay, trapped in this conundrum somewhat of my own making, until it has run its course entirely. I will not abandon this sinking ship until she rests firmly and irretrievably against Davey Jones' bosom. I am a captain who will not forsake his ship or crew until all imaginings of a rescue are dashed, and all hope for salvage of any part of ship or cargo are lost. Lost as are my hopes, my dreams, my fantasy for a fairytale ending. And all that remains are splinters of what could have, would have, should have been.