July 16, 2004 Part Two

 
First of all, I so much appreciate the comments that have been left. You have no idea. Really. Thank you so much.
 
I've been away for a few days, haven't I? Distracted, dejected, or something. Stew's doing pretty well thise week, even dealing with demons on his own. His biggest problem lately is that he's exhausted and doesn't feel well, gets migraines too. I keep telling him, "Well, if I had to go through the things you go through, I'd be exhausted too," and "It's okay, really, if you need to sleep."
 
And I tell him these things because it is okay. Because dealing with what he has to deal with is quite enough to worry about without also stressing about not being as "productive" as society says he should be. What's with that anyway?
 
I may have lost something very important to me this week, may have lost a relationship that felt so right that it concerned me, because I've come to expect that things aren't going to be easy. When they are, it worries me. I'm perverse. And the abandonment issues -- I figure if I can just head them off at the pass, it won't happen. This week I realized how often I was left when I was young. Left here, left there, with people forgetting to pick me up and take me to where I was supposed to be. Left to take the blame, though I wasn't old enough to be responsible, much less get my brother and myself home, especially with my older cousins watching over me.
 
My father and stepmother about killed me because my mother hadn't taken us home. Somehow it was my fault, another instance of me failing them. I was, what? Eleven? Maybe twelve.
 
Luckily I eventually learned to drive so I could transport myself to and fro -- good thing, since I seemed to be quite a nuisance if I had to go anywhere otherwise, unless anyone else had to go there also. But even learning to drive came with problems; my class was at the high school on the other side of town. At night. Every night for two weeks. No way could my parents keep up with a schedule like that. Public transportation wasn't around; if we wanted to be somewhere we had to get there on our own. Several times no one showed up at the preappointed times to take me to class, having forgotten or having had other things going on, and several times I hung around the school after 10 pm, with the place dark and empty and just a bit frightening, no one else around at all, waiting for parents to pick me up who had completely forgotten where I was, or what I was doing, or that I wasn't upstairs.
 
When I'd get up the nerve to call (because calling in itself could be construed as me being a nuisance) I was usually met with surprise: "We thought you were upstairs!" This after one of them, probably my father, maybe a friendly neighbor, (a neighbor helped me once, for which I was thoroughly chastised, there was to be no bothering the neighbors, despite the excessive cheap babysitting I did for them) had driven me to the school and dropped me off -- out of sight, out of mind.
 
This happened to me quite a bit. And I've made much progress. But I still think . . . out of sight, out of mind, and if someone leaves, they may or may not come back, really no way to tell until they do.
 
And I want to change. And this guy, he helped me so much. He has been steady and reliable and patient and so wonderful to me. And I have had the best time with him. And he has done so much for me, and there's still so much I was looking forward to. I hope I haven't lost him altogether, because that would majorly suck. But, me being me, I'd understand. Not like it, not at all, not in the least, but I can't blame him for anything -- he's been great all along. I don't think he knows how much he has done for me, how much I've come to rely on his stability, his patience, his ability to make me laugh no matter what was going on, and the way he makes me feel safe when he's around. And when he's not around, I feel safe knowing he's out there. I was finally getting to realize that he would keep coming back. Like I said, I have issues. I'll always be grateful for having him with me, whatever happens.
 
Back to Stew and the Diaries. He's done good this week. When I was sad and having the most awful day yesterday he made sure I had ice cream and let me wallow in my pain. Yup, things are coming along. After last week, and the week before, not a lot of psychosis to report, but that's NOT a BAD thing. No news, they say, is good news.
 
Okay, there was the demon instance. And he was grumpy the other day. But I'd be grumpy too if I had demons hanging around my apartment to torment me.