A little over a week of being single and I am having trouble. My mind keeps wandering back to the relationship. The parts that were good.

The feeling of his arms around me. The sound of his heartbeat. The glint in his eyes when he was talking about himself.

I fantasize about things I wish had happened. Picnics in the park. Working out a problem I was having in a story. Helping me figure out a schedule. Him showing me a drawing that he thought I might use for a cover. Him laughing at some stupid guy who sent me a direct message asking for nude pics.

Yeah. I get those. I block the sender. No point in responding, it only encourages them.

Revisiting the Past

People I associated with before the relationship are starting to come around again. I’m not sure that is a good thing, but it makes me feel more like myself.

My Voices Start In

Did I do the right thing?

Yes. Where did that come from?

Are you sure? What if he changes?

It doesn’t matter. If he changes, the next one will be better off.

What are you going to do? Be alone for the rest of your life?


What about companionship? What about being held in another’s arms?

That will come when it’s time.

What about sex?

I can get that anywhere. It’s getting them to leave that’s the problem.

How are you going to solve that problem? I can’t go without sex much longer.

I went three years without it.

Yeah. Three long, desperate years. Three years of wishing, hoping, dreaming of someone to end it.

I don’t remember it that way.

You kept yourself so busy, how could you remember anything you felt?

There’s nothing wrong with being busy.

You took it too far. You made sure you were too busy to feel anything.

Feelings are liars. Look what happened when I felt something! I ended up alone with more scars on my heart, more trust issues.

You need someone. You need a companion.

I will have to work on me and wait for them to show themselves.

I’m not gonna win this one, am I?

No. I’m strong today.

No. You just took your medicine today. That’s not you, it’s the medicine.

Mental Illness

The problem with mental illness is that it never takes a break. It waits in the background, waiting to catch me unaware or during my weakness.

Each of the voices has their own specialty.

There’s the preacher waiting to pounce on me for breaking the commandments or crossing Jesus in some other way. He preaches the scriptures to prove I’m evil and going to hell. Fire and brimstone are all he knows.

There’s the old woman who wears torn and filthy peasants clothes from the middle ages. She tells me about every bad thing I’ve ever done and uses that as proof that I should relinquish the space I take up for someone who deserves it. She wants me to stop wasting the oxygen and kill myself.

There’s the middle aged woman who keeps crying and begging me to do what I know is right. She sees no reason for me to even think about being with a man. All men are the cause of every woman’s downfall.

Way in the back is a small girl huddled against the wall, crying her little eyes out. On rare occasions, when she feels it’s safe, she will stop crying and pay attention to what is happening in the real world. So far, it has only caused her more pain.

Another wrong done

“Jenna, get out of that phone. Your always on the phone.” someone says.

Echoes of argument starters ring through my mind and the voices chime in with their bits.

“I know. Your right. I’m evil.” I say.

There’s the Kodak moment of my mind. That’s not all that happens but it’s hard to get across the way it happens. Plus, not all of it happens all the time.

If you want a bit of a better idea of what was happening, imagine hearing and thinking this while every sound you’ve heard today echoes around fading in and out like a radio station with bad reception.

Until next time…

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