An Update

So, my last two post were extremely vague.  My apologies, but so much in my mind right now, it's difficult to know where to begin.  I have done a lot of research and thinking over the past couple of days, and I am ready to write again.  Of course, two in the morning is always the best time for me.
 
The other night I had an "episode".  I would like to elaborate just a little, so you can understand the circumstance.  I don't know what the trigger was, but I know what the outcome was.  It was about that girl again, you know, the ex girlfriend of Ben.  It was about some messages and comments left on facebook, about writing and pictures Ben was after.  I made scenarios in my head again, big suprise.
 
Why is it so difficult for me to just believe that Ben loves me?  I am always afraid of secret messages and phone calls and text messages.
 
Let me play out my scenario, exactly what I was thinking, just so you can understand my illogical logic.  And yes, the fucking computer and facebook itself is involved.  No suprise here, that social networking thing is fucking detrimental at times.  So much gets lost in translation...
 
Two weeks ago, she writes, "I am a mime" on her facebook status.  He responds "Did you striped sweater get stuck on you again?"  Any normal person here not look twice.  Funny comment.  She owned a striped sweater, whatever.  In my head, I look deeper.  I obsess.  I FUCKING OBSESS HARD!  I think about whether they were in a relationship and beginning an intimate moment when her sweater wouldn't come off.  I start thinking, and thinking, and looking for her reply to him.  She finally does reply, and the comment is this: "Check your inbox:}"  Now, my mind is working overtime, thinking there is some secret message sent to him, regarding that fucking sexual moment where she couldn't get her boobies out fast enough.  Right, go ahead, laugh or make an astonishing face.  Judge, go ahead.  Right now, you have a view into my skewed world, and it's pretty fucked up, huh?
 
That night, she is online while I am online.  I ask her questions regarding the message, I accost her via instant messenger.  Of course, in my head I am not being obvious, I think I am being nice.  However, I have an agenda.  I want to know what the fuck is going on.  She says she is painting herself in a portrait kind of show, and that she thought I would laugh at her, and that she would send me the same thing she sent him.  Fair enough, subject dropped.  I erased the history on the computer, and never told Ben I contacted her.
 
  The next week,hHe wanted something.  He wanted his writing.  He has wanted this for some time now, and has made it no secret that he requested these things., and he has requested them before.  However, he leaves her a comment, "I have a favor to ask of you."  They haven't spoken in some time, which I know (though I truly don't believe in my head at the moment).  So, I am thinking, if he has a question or favor, why doesn't he just come out and ask her?  Is he waiting for a response?  Are they secretly sending messages back and forth, and becoming nostalgic about the times they had together?  What is the secret favor? 
 
Ben and I had a deal, many months ago, that all correspondence between he and this girl would be forwarded to me, that there would be no secrets.  So, I sit at work each day, not thinking about how much I love Ben, and how much I love my life; rather about what Ben is doing and whether he is contacting this woman.  This thought consumes me, I dwell and become delusional to a whole other degree.  I come home and check each history on the computer, trying to find the fault in him.  I erase the history, the history that says I have been checking in a spying on him.... the history which clearly states I don't trust him.
 
I do these things and all the time and he is at home, watching my kids.  He loves my kids, he treats them well.   He loves me, too.  He wants his writing, he wants his photos.  He wants to show me his photos and writing, this is why he is pushing the issue with this other woman.  He wants me to know who he has been before he has been with me.  He wants to show me.
 
I, in turn, become resentful.  I know there is something there, something which I am missing... I know he has spoken to her, and he hasn't told me.  I have been now dwelling on this for two weeks.  I know it will have a blow up.  I know it.  However, I just can't ask him, I somehow want to catch him.... I have a hard time believing he truly loves me, and wants to be with me.  I honestly believe, in my mind, that they have some secret nostalgic dialogue going on, something I cant see.  I believe I am working and we haven't seen eachother and he is turning to her to comfort him... and in my mind this is the truth.
 
Somehow, the "truth" comes to a head.  At this point, I have made my own truth about our reality, and in my mind each thing I have obsessed about and delusioned is truth.  I make a truth which is delusional.
 
He did send her a message, and she sent him one as well.  She said she did not want to have contact with him, that I was stifiling; that she did not want to be questioned each time she got on Facebook...  And then she erased him from her friends.  She said she was afraid that she was causing conflict, etc.  Apparently, she wanted to send the photos, however, she was afraid that there were photos of the two of them together which I would see, and that I would become questioning and defensive.  Quite possibly, I would have.  Ben just wanted his photos so he could show me his life in France, who he was then.  He wanted to show me different parts of his life.  However, Ben lost a friend, and it's my fault. 
 
In the meantime, I come to a point where I finally ask, and somehow the whole thing blows. the. fuck. up.  I dwell on the fact that the messages weren't forwarded to me, and I scream and kick and yellllllllllll.  I yell at Ben.  I accuse.  I tell him he's a liar and I act like a three year old having a tantrum.  He's clearly afraid for me, and he is worried.  I wake the children and I feel aweful... It's diffult for me to put the eposide into detail, except that I was absolutely uncontrollable.  I was uncontrollable, and my mind was the reason. 
 
The next day, Ben and I spoke.  Well, he spoke, and I cried.  Leaning against the kitchen counter, I thought.  I thought to my self about how lucky I am to have a man who knows how to love, and man who is understanding a caring.  A man who acknowledges me and my shortcoming.  A man who is not afraid to tell me to seek out help, a man who will help to be strong enough to do just that.  I love Ben, and this delusion thing, well, soon it will be yet another part of my past.
 
 
 

My Gramma

I imagined my grandmother sitting by me on the couch this evening, watching a movie with me.  It was a strange movie, the kind I would have insisted on watching when I was twenty years old and pregnant, and although she would be hesitant she would oblige.  After all, she was always hesitant with me and my motives in life, however, she was always supportive and loving.  A little sex in a movie never turned her away, if I thought it was good.  I (fucknig) moved the pillow over to make room for her; knowing that she was heavy and couldn't get up very easily, I saved the right side of the sofa as it is not as sunken is as the rest.  She obliged and was thankful for the invitation.  Her hair was full and thick, and her lipstick was on straight.  She always wore bright lipstick, and was a big fan.  It was a feminine thing to her.  She was insistant on asking questions about the movie, as she always was.  I was grateful ( unlike annoyed as previously in my life) and answered each and every question she asked.  I answered out loud.   I wonder, am I crazy?  Possibly.  Maybe I am fucking losing it.
 
Garrett came to me after school today, and he said this: "Mom, you are a totally a different person now that you have Ben."  I responded by saying, "How so?"  He said, "You know, like you don't go to McDonalds all the time, you always take his suggestions, and before you didn't love anyone.  But you love him."  "But, Garrett, who told you that?"  "I just noticed," said the seven year old.  Oh fuck.  How does a fucking seven year old understand the life and times of a twenty something (thank goodness I am not thirty yet) mother?
 
I just wonder how the outside world is percieving me, as well as how my actions are being interpreted by others.  Is my craziness being absorbed by everyone in my life, or are only those close able to pick up my vibe?  My seven year old picks up on subtle things that I wouldn't think any kid could comprehend, and thank the gods that he doesn't pick up the the bigger picture; on all the other struggles i am going through.  In the mean time, I am struggling with normalcy, and trying to just make it through another day.
 
I haven't seen Ben in such a long time.  I mean, he is here, but we are here and there, and not together.  Our work schedules suck.  I wonder if my lonliness is making me long for my Gramma; making me imagine her presence.  She was (an apparently still is) one of my only compandres in this big fucked up world.  Before my love with Ben, she was my only friend who really understood me, and who I was.  She took me without question, without judgement.  She is gone now, and for some reason this week I need her. 
 
She loved my kids, and I am a firm believer that she was there after her funeral, and she played with Nate while he layed on the floor.  Tonight, I would give anything to take my kids to her, to talk to her.  To hear what she has to say about how my life has unfolded in the past three years.  I miss my gramma. 
 
I  hope she is there, in the dark.