I’m adddicted to you Like a bullet I fly I feel red in my head And a fire in my mind Could you tell me what the ring around your neck is for?
Could I knock you around? Can I call on the phone? Let me come on your feet Let me come in your home Let’s get it done I don’t know what we could be waiting for If you gotta a minute I could oooo yeah!
I’m addicted to you I got something inside It needs somewhere to go Wanna go for a ride? I could tell you’re an original & maybe more
Could there be other men? Well there maybe could be But right now it feels like You got something i need What’s in your hand I don’t know what you could be waiting for If you gotta minute I could ooooo yeah!
I’m addicted to you Wanna push you around Put my hands on your neck Falling into the ground I could swirl you in a bucket knock it on the floor
Beating onto your chest Feeling something inside And now I gotta go Something don’t feel right Maybe this was just a slip a cok and nothing more Only for a minute I could oooo yeah!
(I wrote this around couple weeks ago, I guess. Before the last astrological storm which led to James’s disappearance. I asked him how he would feel about me publishing it and he said it was fine, but that nothing I wrote was true.This made me feel a sense of relief so I went the dignified route of keeping feelings to myself. But in the end they were prescient, so may as well share them now.)
Now I’m scareder than ever. The last storm was as bad as I feared it would be- sluts, crime, violence, financial disasters- and I just realized that another one is upon me when Mars joins Uranus in James’s House of Sex & Death.
I really feel he’s going to leave me and somehow it will be my fault. It will be something I did. Maybe this blog post. But if not this then something else.
The other day I couldn’t take the pain of what was happening. I kicked a door so hard I can’t walk anymore. James says this was me using the threat of violence to control him.
The bad parts of him leaving are two-fold. One, he has been my whole life. When I fell in love with James I thought I had found True Love and that became my religion, my reason for existing. To accept that it wasn’t real would be the worst pain I’ve ever felt.
Secondly, I have no idea how to survive on my own. He always wanted to support me and encouraged me to rely on him for everything. This was fine because it allowed me to pursue my interests, which he supported. But also it makes it harder to set boundaries when you’ve never earned a living, don’t have a drivers license, a bank account, don’t know how to pay bills etc. I have no idea how the world works and doubt I would be able to cut it.
But I know it would be wrong to stay with someone who doesn’t want you. I guess I still believe in love.
Weird things are happening in James’s mind. More and more I seem to be associated with all the pain and frustration inside.. And other people who he could potentially have sexual relations with have come to be associated with relief from pain. And positive feelings.
More and more he sees bad in me. Devious intentions which I don’t believe are there. Nothing I do seems capable of shifting it. Meanwhile other females have become easy targets on which to project his positive feelings. They aren’t a part of his life. They are just blank screens onto which he can project his own needs and desires. How can I compete with that?
Suddenly, after eleven years of marriage, everything about me is wrong. I am too mentally fast. That is his biggest complaint. Also I never listen. But I listen all the time. He says ‘Yeah but you never understand.’ So I try harder to understand. And yet somehow I never succeed. I make him think too much. I don’t wear enough camouflage (I was literally wearing camouflage shorts when he said this.) I don’t like to get muddy. (I don’t know if this is true, because he has never asked me to do anything involving mud.)
He likes the way the online women communicate better. They mostly just say LOL all the time. But they say it with a depth of understanding someone like me can only dream of. I am mental. They hear with the soul.
So what can I do? I have to prepare to stand alone in this world. The upcoming astrological storm is likely to be more traumatic than the last one. But I don’t know how to make a living.
I get tens of thousands of downloads a month and over a thousand readers a day but probably make around 100 dollars a year. I do astrology readings but just on a donation basis. I haven’t had a job since I was a teenager. I don’t drive, so how will I get groceries? I am so scared.
But I can’t stay if he doesn’t love me. That’s what I was here for, not money or security. And I am trapped in this fun house where no matter what I do, no matter how good I try to be, I get a negative projection returned. I can do no right and online women can do no wrong. He calls them his fireflies. He calls me cuntface. I can only assume this means he wants to be rid of me.
(Saturn is squaring my Mercury causing me to hate everything that comes out of my mouth. If I sound like I’m eating a robot, that’s why.)
I’ve been in that phase again where I write a million blog posts then delete them cause I can’t stop imagining all the reasons people will hate me for anything I say.
Personally I love to read people writing about their own experiences. Whether it is trudging across Antarctica or making their husband a sandwich, I don’t care. But when writing about myself, the voices in my head start calling me a self-absorbed, navel gazing narcissist. Sometimes real people do too.
So then I become an intellectual. A defensive posture. It makes men think you are smart and respect you more. Sometimes it feels like men are highly cue based when evaluating intelligence. A woman in spectacles discussing science is intelligent. A woman gluing cotton bears onto a wreath is not. But I can’t maintain being intellectual. It feels like walking on my hands.
And the Heard-Depp trial is ‘triggering’ me. But I’m afraid to say this. If you want your biscuits, this is the time to say you believe men can be abused just as easily as women. You are supposed to say it is just as bad for a woman to push a man- even if he doesn’t move- as it is for a man to push a woman- even if she falls into a bathtub and hits her head. They are equally bad. It’s violence either way!
You are supposed to say that domestic abuse is a genderless crime. And male victims are too shy to come forward. Depp is helping to change this.
But it’s hard for me to imagine a female using physical force to dominate a man. Even moreso in a case like this where Depp is surrounded by body guards. Not to mention endless money, friends, family, staff, homes, vehicles, planes, yachts, guns, knives etc.
It wouldn’t be impossible. But the only way I could see it happening is if Heard managed to establish a guru-like grip over Depp’s mind. But it is clear from the trial that she was not holding his brain in thrall. Drugs and his demons did that.
Perhaps many do not understand the difference between physical aggression and abuse. Lobbing a ball of socks at someone is not abuse. Punching a man, grabbing a woman’s arm & leaving a bruise, screaming, calling someone a bad name… you can only determine the significance of these events by looking at the larger pattern. If Monica slapped Clinton for gizzing on her dress would that make him a battered husband? Not from my perspective. If she stabbed him through the eye with a pen then we are entering new territory.
Because women can commit acts of violence towards men. They could marry an old man for money then slip poison in his food.
But domestic abuse, imo, is when a person uses intimidation, manipulation, violence & control of resources to establish dominance over their partner, making them unable or unwilling to leave despite bad treatment.
How many men exist who are physically afraid of their wives but too scared to leave? How commonly do women cut off men’s access to money, social contacts and transportation while dominating their bodies and threatening to kill them if they escape?
I’m wincing because the next statement will probably shower hate on me, but it seems possible that trace elements of domination are present in many if not most heterosexual relationships. It’s more than men being stronger, it is also how they are built for war and competition while women obsess over connection, frequently placing them in the role of trying to please.
We try to make things gooey and soft. We want to wear matching pajamas. We glue cotton bears onto a wreath. Men don’t do this. I don’t know why. I’m not judging them for this. I’m just trying to state the obvious in a culture which punishes us for doing so.
Would you like to watch a two minute video of a dog’s face accompanied by a song about a frog?
Slipper’s name is substituted for Mr. Froggy’s though cause she loves the sound of it. I also like to read her Bible verses where it’s God talking directly to Slippers. “I shall cover Slippers with my feathers, and under my wings Slippers will rest.”
I go through phases where my arms and legs freeze up. I can’t move. The blood has retracted to my core. My brain freezes. My kidneys hurt. It is a response to fear I guess.
I can’t sing. It’s hard to talk or write. The feeling of silence is so thick and blood pumps in my ears. The acute phase lasts 24 hours. Then a lingering reluctance to make sounds or speak words. Eventually I remember to surround myself with the color red and it gives me the urge to be again. I can’t even say I like red in a ‘favorite color’ sense but it has thrown me a lifeline so many times it is like an angel.
That is the phase I have been in today. I’ve been listening to Hello by Lionel Ritchie on endless repeat. I don’t usually listen to music but when I do it is one song that hits me and so I listen to it over and over and over again. I like this song. It is so beautiful. Soon I will try surrounding myself with warm colors & hopefully it will become easier to speak. But first I will listen to Hellow a few more times.
Dreamcatcher of the night Look at what I’ve done. I’m in a bad way now.
He told me no more fight No more hide & run Hold it inside somehow.
Touch me on the arm again with all your little strings, your little strings, oh god I can feel them coming now with all their little wings, their little wings And they tell me that someone is on my side.
I did it. Spit it out. Pin me by the neck. Didn’t obey his will.
Soft voices. Close my eyes. I know what I get. Reach for another pill.
Come onto my head again with all your little strings, your little strings, oh god I can feel them coming now with all their golden wings, their golden wings And they tell me that someone is on my side.
I’ve been trying for a while to post something on here & written about 50 blog posts which I didn’t publish due to a desire for invisibility. I toggle between urges to be visible & invisible based on which seems the safest.
On the one hand, people knowing you exist makes you safe. It increases the odds that someone would notice if you went missing. Perhaps in extreme cases, someone would come to your aid. On the other hand, the more people know you exist the more enemies you have. And the more information they have about you, the more nooks & crannies for landing their little arrows. The wider you stretch out your personality, the larger the target becomes.
Still though, I consider it part of my destiny to try and trust in the soft mush of faceless unseen people & to believe that something good might emerge from that mush one day.
He points the gun at me I say please don’t shoot He says, ‘What makes you think I would do that to you? After all that I’ve done that’s the way that you see me? Then walk out that door cause you might as well leave me.’
Oh no…. my brain…..something cracking inside Please I need to find darkness some place I can hide Just climb under the bed, just lie there very still I wish someone would find me but they never will.
Walking around it’s a daze in my mind now The flowers are blooming, the sun is behind now But inside it’s raining I can’t make it stop And I bite on my tongue cause I need not to talk.
Oh no…. my head… something breaking inside Now I need to find shelter some place I can hide But behind every door there’s a man with a new gun There’s no where to go if I had the strength to run.
Clouds in the sky I don’t think I can join you So fluffy and free all the bullet pass through you You’ve nothing to fear and you rain when you want to I wish you saw me I need someone to talk to.
Oh no… my heart… something breaking inside Can you hold it together until we can hide? Just climb under the bed just lie there very still I wish someone would find us but they never will.