Decompression

I wanted to stop only coming here when I was upset or crying or in crisis. And I’ve thought about things I could write. But I’ve also just. I haven’t had a lot of energy all year. I’ve been low on spoons, or spell slots, or whatever you want to call it. They aren’t refilling the way they used to. I wake up knowing I can do less in the day than I could the day before, and it’s concerning on so many levels.

I haven’t been on my medication now for about a month and a half. I know it’s not helping. I know damn well I’d been better right now if I was actually on medication for my myriad of mental illnesses. But I’m coping. I’m coping the best I possibly can right now. At least I think I am.

I went to get my regular check-up for STI’s over the weekend. And. One of the tests came back positive. It was just the pre-screening. It doesn’t mean I have it. And the doctor was very positive that it’s just a false positive because the indicator was very faint. And I don’t exactly live a high-risk lifestyle for this particular thing. But. The fact that it’s come up positive has sent me into a spiral. I can feel that. I’m more afraid of this than I was of cancer. Because cancer can’t be transferred to someone else. It can only directly hurt me, and the worse that would have happened was that I died. And while that’s not great, and it’s not really something I want. No one else gets cancer because I had cancer. But this. This can directly hurt other people. Not only can I pass this to someone else, but they can also then, in turn, pass it to others and it would be my fault.

I think that’s what I’m struggling with the most about this possibility of a diagnosis. It can directly have a negative impact on people I either love or deeply care for. I genuinely don’t know how I could have contracted it. I probably don’t. But I’m stuck on if I have this, even with treatment to help mitigate the transference possibility… I don’t want to give someone else this. Even if it was someone I didn’t care about. I wouldn’t want to do this to another human being.

There’s also. There is a problem with one of my relationships. I don’t know if I have ever actually come out and said it. But. Polyamory. It’s a thing. And it’s my preferred way of being in a relationship as it were.

I met one of my meta’s this weekend. And initially, I thought it had gone well. But… well. It became very apparent that it hadn’t. And after a long rambly message this morning. I’m kind of questioning things. Because. The label used to define what we were a couple months ago and the why of that label was used. We still do the same things. We still don’t really do romantic dinners or moonlight walks or things like that. The only difference visible from then to now is time. And if the term dating is too strong to use then, when I actually thought we were dating then. Maybe not Dating dating. But still. Time doesn’t have to change the definition used to describe to the meta for my what relationship with this person was.

I suppose another difference is caring. Gods know I care about this person a lot. But even then. I’m lost as to timelines and when changes happened in his head. And I’m doubting my own judgment on things because. I kind of clearly don’t the difference between sexy friends and dating.

And I don’t know how to say this to the person I need to tell this to. I’ve been hurting all day and I haven’t been able to sleep really. And food just has not stayed in me today. I didn’t even have to make myself throw up. My body did it for me. Gods. My heart has been in and out of this vice-like grip of pain since October with an alarming frequency. And sometimes, like today, it squeezes so hard I can barely breathe and I don’t know that it’s fair that I feel this way.

I also just. I know I am responsible for my own feelings and I am responsible for my own actions. But I feel like I have no choice but to process this on my own. Especially given that he wants to be there to help his partner process everything. And that’s fair. That is his primary relationship. That’s. Kind of how it goes. All of my partners have a primary relationship, and not one of them includes me. I knew/know this and I’ve kind of accepted that this is just where things are. But it means I do so much alone. And I sometimes feel like I have no choice but to do things that way.

I need to not be alone when I got get my test results. Even if they do come back a false positive. Going into the clinic alone squeezes the vice and just. I feel panicked every time I think about it. My parents reached out to me to ask if they could go with me because they are worried too. But by the time I laid down last night, I didn’t feel like I could ask anyone I am with to be there with me. I didn’t feel I had the right.

Heh. I don’t feel like I can reach out to my partners at all for support really. Not when I need someone to be there for me. I struggle with that in general, but I’ve gotten better at it with friends. But with the people, I’m dating… I still feel like I’m an inconvenience, or that they have something or someone else that needs to take priority over me. And that is such a lonely fucked up feeling.

I don’t know what to do and I keep crying and I just. I want to stop and be able to breathe without it feeling like a struggle. I want to stop crying. I want this vice to let go.