Author: Candid Corvid Productions

“Briefly back in bed to get warm while dogs are out back and cats are indoor meandering, all waiting for me to muster will’s power to get up and aim for another version of daily functioning.”

“He had closed off to me long before his injuries.

I didn’t know how to get him back – we were way off track from where we’d begun.

We were so young.

What had I done but been naive and asked him about something, too trusting and wanting his opinion?

Was it those “friends” who tried to falsely corrupt my reputation – make him think I would be a bad thing – and convince him to discard me for their gains?

Was it my sending away the woman who suddenly reappeared, trying to leverage their history and dethrone me?

I knew something about his past was unresolved and was soon projected onto me.

It shut down our connection’s honesty and sealed tight his mouth, glomming onto me like sticky taffy.

It was like I couldn’t move or breath freely, and every move I made or word I said was used as reinforcement to distance him.

And those hormones made me feel and see the cracks of our impending loss too clearly.

I begged him nicely – but then the women flirting and his ambiguity”s lack of reassurance got me yelling.

Our truth was there – why couldn’t and wouldn’t he fight for it?!

It was in how we drummed together, and in how our bodies confided.

But I couldn’t reach him; couldn’t talk to him.

He kept avoiding and denying while going through the motions of being together.

I could tell he resented my challenging and rallying, as he withdrew even more from me.

Our love before had been alive and vital – and I’d be damned if I would let it die like this!

But I was damned because I didn’t let go of it.”

“I know that part of an issue is that sometimes when I see something worrying in a relationship, I get stuck and cannot respond effectively to it.

I think this is residual behavior from having to play possum in unsafe childhood trauma zones, and I have not experienced enough ‘safety’ in partnership to be able to retrain.”

“I think in some ways, this has now become my default as a form of self preservation.”

“You’re a guy…a guy can almost do, be, and look like anything by today’s standards.

If a woman wants to self express, she’s supposed to be some oversexualized stringbean glamour model.”

“I guess what ails me is the fact that I’m injured, after having cared for another person with severe injuries that did not resolve positively, and where I did not get back the love, care, and support that I gave.

Reciprocity was lacking, so as a partner relagated to caregiving, my spirit became drained after decades of disregard.

So here I am, with this constant physical load beleageurment now of my own and a past history of needed love’s lack, so where do I find faith in concept that a man would step up for me when I am struggling to meet my own needs?

There’s a correlation conclusion in my reasoning that sucks away at confidence.

If I was not valued in my valiant youth’s high achieving performances before, then why would I be valued when I’m struggling?

And taking it further, would I still be valued if/as I moved into better recovery and claimed a new version of my prior bright energies’ emitting?

I feel at risk for being loved only for my current diminishment.”

“Maybe if I were with a dedicated man who could and would love me with equal depth and endurant tenacity, I’d have ‘a chance in Hell.'”