CAPTAIN'S BLOG
Note: I am introducing an abbreviation for my website in an effort to help the people who might know me avoid learning things about me they may not wish to read: Not Safe For Family or NSFF. These posts contains details about my sex life, sexual preferences, and other details some people may not want to know, despite my willingness to share such information freely.
Suddenly, I find myself in Mid-January. It's gone by quickly at times and agonizingly slowly at times. The human experience of time dilation that is so dependent on our experience is an interesting one. The way that time flies when you're having fun - and the way times drags when you're suffering. Or waiting. When I first started dabbling in polyamory with my fiancee, I was bold. I knew my feelings for her were strong, were based in mutual respect and love, and despite our difficulties, I knew we'd get through them. I feared nothing, because I knew we'd get through this together. We had no reason to leave one another - we both wanted to try polyamory. This would prove to be an underestimation on my part. Even though things weren't perfect when she proposed to me, I knew that getting engaged was what I wanted. I knew then and still know now that I want and need her in my life, forever. But as I said, things weren't perfect. Just like any relationship - I have problems, and she has problems. Further complicating matters, it's also true that the Mirtazapine Incident did a great deal of damage both to my feelings for her and to my confidence in our future, because she went from being the consistently reasonable with her head in the clouds to being mostly reasonable with sudden and unpredictable moments of intense unreasonableness. It was a major change, especially for me, who really values being able to communicate and talk things out in the moment. Yelling is even ok, and in my family we yell at each other either until someone makes an unavoidably good point - which happens more often than you think - or until we run out of energy to yell and are sick of being angry and decide that we should figure things out, now that we are thinking clearly, given the exhaustion of our emotions. It turns out that this is a rather unique formula - apparently, most people just yell at each other. And that's it. The problem with the Mirtazapine Incident is it essentially uncapped her anger - someone who was once occasionally angry but always gentle was suddenly raised to anger and retribution and rage - leading to behaviour that hurt me and my trust in very deep ways. She did and said things to me and other people that I never thought I would see her do. I could see the sadness and fear in her eyes, and I could hear the authenticness of her guilt and apology when she returned to normal - I could see it wasn't her doing these things, so I just held her tight and did whatever I could to help her, just as I had wished someone had done for me when I was young and broken.
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AuthorChristina Hitchens is a trans female writer living in BC, Canada. She loves computers, animals, and a good argument. Archives
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