If it wasn’t for this goddamn ringing

I always have a constant ringing in my ears. We’ve been companions for as far back as I can remember. It’s usually quite soft, to the point where if my brain is otherwise engaged, I’m not entirely sure if I heard it during that time in retrospect. I’ve been paying closer attention lately, and I would swear it’s getting louder.

Perhaps my brain is about to explode 🤔 I almost wish it would.

Siiiiiiiiigh-uh

What a pickle. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve followed up a sigh with a “fuck” in the last four to five days. Baking cinnamon rolls [sigh] “fuck.” Pulling chicken apart [sigh] “fuck.” Showering [sigh] “fuck.” You know, normal things people generally sigh and whisper “fuck” whilst doing. I can tell you it has been enough times that I’ve been asked by multiple people if I’m okay. Which I am…I think, aside from having an overactive brain with a highly developed, yet completely irrational, imagination. I don’t think it’s entirely my fault this time. But that’s neither here nor there and absolutely irrelevant, I suppose.

The full moon is heavy tonight. I was practically drowning in it last night. I was an absolute, blubbering mess. I stopped taking birth control about two months ago. There were a number of reasons. I don’t really want to go into all of them, but the point is I’m super hormonal. As soon as I stopped, my cycle almost immediately got back on track. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying my body’s coming home to its natural rhythms. I was quite pleased to find I have a Red Moon cycle, but let me not go off on a tangent. Point is I’ve been a ball of raw emotion the last two days. My insides feel like they’ve been man-handled with sandpaper.

On the whole, I am excited about the next six months. I’ve put all of my distractions on the back burner. It’s crunch time. My time. I’ve spent the last 17 years putting myself last. No one forced me to. It’s my love language, I guess, and I love hard and deep (like your mom). Because of that, I need someone equally nurturing. That is not what I have. So I guess the intention for the next six months is going to be all about releasing. Because I’m slowly dying from spiritual, emotional, and mental malnourishment.

I’m not looking forward to telling the husband I’m done with this shit. He’s not a bad guy. He’s a great guy. Just not great for me. I don’t like hurting people. It’s almost unthinkable for me to hurt someone I care about. We’re destroying each other softly, and it needs to stop. We both deserve better than that.