Choice and the Runaway

This utter feeling of despair is ceaseless.
I don't want it anymore.
Sure, you can say it is my choice.
In fact, I say it to myself.

My choice.
Certainly, it is my choice to stay when I am consumed by anguish.
So, do I stay and continue to feel so wholly despondent?
I am empty.
Nothing to give.
Nothing to do except go through the motions of my life.

The life I adored so completely until...
Until I was poly-bombed (while I despise that word, it suits).
Until the rug of my perfect life was whisked away.
Until everything I cherished became unbearable.

My choice.

To stay:
Continue to be hopelessness and empty.
Until my Master tires of the barren and lifeless body that is my own.
And his.
Tires of the emptiness that is inside me.
Until my Master despises and resents me.

To go:
Where to go?
Someplace else.
Someplace far away.
Someplace to hide.
Someplace to be until the darkness takes the pain away.

I don't know if I have the strength left to decide.

Alone

Polyamory doesn't work.
It doesn't work.

Maybe for some but not for me.
It leaves me feeling empty.
Alone.

Alone when my Master goes on a date to fuck another woman/women.
Alone when my Master falls asleep instead of coming home.
Alone when my Master finally comes home.
Alone when my Master touches me.
Alone when my Master kisses me.
Alone when my Master smells like some other woman.
Alone when my Master fucks me.
Alone when my Master holds me close.
Alone when my Master whispers his love to me.

I am alone and dead inside.

Darkness

There is only darkness now.
But not black enough for me.

Where is there a hole deep enough and dark enough for me to hide?
The sun shines brightly today but not enough to brighten my heart.
My soul is full of darkness.
My body is numb.
There is nothing.
Nothing to fill me with happiness.
Joy has left the building of my life.

I only want to crawl in the dark hole and stay there.
Let the blackness surround the blackness inside me.

There is no hand that can reach me to pull me out of the darkness.
Nothing to show me that the flowers can bloom again.

Flowers I buy for myself to show the beauty, only fade and die.
The same way I that I have died inside.
No beauty.
Only misery.
Only despair.
No joy.
No meaning.
Hopelessness.
Mourning for what is lost.
Mourning for the love that filled me full of bliss.
Mourning for adventures had with my love.
Gone forever.

Nothing to look forward to except more darkness.
Waiting for it to engulf me completely.
So I don't see or feel the darkness anymore.

Choose Your Hard

I read so much.
I read about all the different perspectives about poly relationships.

• Mono/poly
• Poly/poly
• Poly/mono
• How to try harder to make it work
• How poly is an orientation similar to the LGBT community.

Oh, that's the one. That's the one that get my fur up.
Really!?! An orientation?
I call BS.
It doesn't feel like it to me.
It feels the same as saying that alcoholism is a disease.
If you have a disease, you take medication.
Alcoholism is a choice.
Just like poly.

I'm sure someone will get pissed at me for saying it but it's how I feel about it.

I can try harder.
I can read more. And more.
I can try to understand how he can love me and still want to be with other women.
I can try to understand how he can love me while I'm sobbing at his choice.
I can be happy that he is happy while I'm miserable.
I can take medication to make me numb and not care that my husband and Master dates and fucks other women.
I can smile and defend his choice to our daughter (teach her to be tolerant).
I can pretend that I don't care that he comes home smelling like some other woman.
I can get up each morning and get through my day (and it feels like sleepwalking).
But I'm dying inside.
A soul-crushing death.

But of course, the polys would say I'm not trying hard enough.
So I guess I'll try harder.

Numb and Joyless

It doesn't please me to tell you that I'm numb right now.

The anti-anxiety meds keep me from breaking down into a puddle of tears but also rob me of my personality. I'll also admit that I'm drinking more than I usually do. Something I'm not proud of. I'm not getting drunk per se, just having more than I usually do (3/4 glasses of wine instead of 2, 3 cocktails instead of 1/2).

The things I usually find joyful with leave me feeling, well, meh.

• I love growing my business and meeting new people to interact with but I know that I'm not coming across with the genuine enthusiasm that I used to have.
• I love to make music with my friends once a week but I've not attended a rehearsal in a month because I just can't face them. I can't face having to be 'happy' when I feel anything but happy. 
• I love to knit and create new patterns and I haven't picked up the needles in weeks. 
• I love cooking and trying new recipes. Ho hum.
• I love smelling the wind and the scent of the season (whatever it might be). I don't even notice it now.

I've lost my bliss and my joy.

I want it back.

The Edge

I live on the edge but not in a good way.

The edge of:

• tears
• nausea
• nothingness
• sobbing uncontrollably
• laying down and not getting up
• running away 

Misery in Mono/Poly Land

4 years ago, my Master started the slow misery of my world by announcing that he was Poly. He had always felt that way but society made him feel it was bad and so he didn't acknowledge it as a possible way to live.

I felt like my world had been turned upside down. The bliss and adoration of my husband and Master was shattered. I've felt angry, betrayed, extreme sadness and all the other things that you might expect.

I want to support my husband and Master in his choice. Since I'm anything but a prude (I fall somewhere between a swinger and an all-out poly person), I decided I should learn as much as I can about this form of lifestyle. I read and read and read. Books and blogs and websites. I go to poly meetups, support groups, couple and personal counseling.

• I'm angry when I read poly elitists state that I'm old-fashioned (I most certainly am not). Or just state that I'm flat out wrong for feeling this way. Well, guess what, fuck you and your holier-than-thou poly shit. That isn't a real way to convince me by shaming and discounting my feelings. 
• I'm shocked when someone tells me that I should get a divorce because we are doomed.
• I'm sad when I try to figure out my boundaries, only to be told that the small step I try to make is not possible.
• I'm hurt when I feel like my Master gets to have fun while I'm stuck at home with our child.
• I'm hopeless when I feel stuck in a situation that makes me unhappy.

Generally, I'm just miserable. I've been taking anti-anxiety meds for 6 months and still sob. Whenever my Master goes on a date, I take more meds and try to smile at my daughter. When he tells me that he loves me, I feel it but I'm still overwhelming sad.

I don't even know why I'm writing anything down. I guess because I feel so isolated and alone. It's not a fun place to be.

This is not who I am. 

I am not a miserable person.

But I guess I am.