silveraardvark

[silveraardvark]

Letter that will never be read-

I’ve thought that you were someone who loved me completely. People told me that I was just a conquest to you but I said they were wrong.

Now with some distance I’m not so sure.

You probably never did.

[silveraardvark]

We accepted an offer on the house, so we will see how that goes. I’m hoping we can move very soon.

I’m haunted more these past couple of weeks than I have been in months. When will it end?

[silveraardvark]

I’ll eat your heart I love you so

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You are haunting me.

[silveraardvark]

I hate this body that disgusts me. I hate how I hurt so many. I hate how fucking stupid I am.

No one hates me more than I do.

[silveraardvark]

Anger- a letter that will never be read

It eats me, the anger.

I sit in it and it cooks me alive, threatening to boil over. It feels white hot in my chest. It tightens around my throat and I clench my teeth so hard that the sides of my tongue have wavy divots. They call it a scalloped tongue.

I keep trying to remind myself that it’s fine, it’s done. I should let it go but I don’t. I don’t let it go, I can’t let it go. I let it eat me and warm me from the inside out, this anger. I lay awake at night next to my husband who LOVES me in all caps and he snores and reaches out to touch me and I can’t breathe for the anger that is seething under my skin. It’s in my chest. It’s in my chest.

I sleep in spells and I dream these nightmares. Sometimes the nightmares are scary with people hunting me. Sometimes it’s me looking for you where we used to work. It’s me at work and your mom is still my boss and I ask her “where is (redacted)?” But she ignores me. I see you pass by out of the corner of my eye and follow you but you’re gone. Sometimes I try to talk to you and I say your name to get your attention but you just walk away without a word. Sometimes the nightmare is you hating me and calling me a manipulative whore and I argue with you that I never manipulated you ever, and you laugh. You tell me that you never loved me and that you were fucking with me the entire time and that you never want to see me or hear from me again. Sometimes it’s my husband telling me he hates me. Sometimes it’s me screaming at your wife and she screams back and hits me. Sometimes it’s both your mother and your wife cornering me to yell at me and threaten me the way they did in my waking life. My husband wakes me when I cry in my sleep and he will pet my head and shush shush me until I relax. I roll over to prop myself up on my elbow and hit my vape, check the time on my phone, and I start the nightmares all over again.

I hate her for many reasons, but mostly for being more crazy than us both. I have never known someone to go from one extreme to another and blame it on any and everyone but herself. I have never known someone to reach out to someone and ask them to be a part of their husband’s life. I have never known someone to ask her to be with him as long as he comes home to her at night then turn around and accuse her of manipulation.

I have never known someone to do something and turn it to be the fault of everyone else as if they, a grown woman, are a puppet that is controlled by others. By a man. I asked and asked if she was okay, she always promised me it was. It infuriates me that one angry woman was able to wreck my life so supremely. I can’t even do anything about it. Crazy people do crazy things and do not care who they hurt because they remove the blame and accountability from themselves. I don’t know what else could be up her sleeve and I’m finished hurting people. I think I have done enough damage.

I am not the crazy one. I am the one who is somehow steadier than the rest despite the turmoil. Despite the guilt, the anger, the sorrow, the guilt again (twice because it eats at me the most, I think). I am doing okay with my self control. I am almost certain it is because of the medicine. I want to cry some days. I want to scream and I want to hurt myself and I want to sleep my days away and pace all night but I do not. I won’t.

[silveraardvark]

My house is on the market and I’m freaking out about it. Change is hard and I avoid it at all costs.

I’m ready to get the fuck out of this place and start over somewhere new. I’m ready to get distance and time. Maybe just maybe my husband will feel better too with some distance from it all and then starting over together. I can hope.

[silveraardvark]

It’s 2:30am.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I can’t sleep and I spend my days steeped in nervous angry guilty energy. Had a complete ugly cry today because my husband was telling me about a bad dream he had last night and it made me think of how much damage I have caused. I fucked up so many people and I didn’t even mean to. I fucked him up, my in laws, my jobs, my boyfriend, his marriage (even though I had his wife’s consent), his mother, my own reputation… I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself and I let the guilt wash over me and drown me for a little while. My husband held my face and calmed me down. He said that with the 15 years of pain he caused me, my one infliction of pain was just a blip. He forgives me. I will never forgive myself. Every single hour of every single day I think about what I’ve done. Who is this person who hurts people? How did I manage to step so far outside my character and ruin everything? I don’t know.

[silveraardvark]

— Captain Flint (via letsbeloneytogetherr)

[silveraardvark]

—Margaret Atwood, “The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart”, from Selected Poems II (1976-1986)

[silveraardvark]

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

[silveraardvark]

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

[silveraardvark]

Letter that will never be read-

I didn’t take your husband from you.

You gave him to me by choice.

[silveraardvark]

6/11/25

Today I’m having issues with hanging onto anger that ebbs and flows. Some days I don’t even think about it. Some days it overwhelms me. I’m pretty good at redirecting my feelings at this point. My psych doctor would be proud. I’ve thought about reaching out to a previous coworker who has been talking shit about me throughout town to tell her that she is not only wrong in her details but that she’s in her 40s and is too fucking old to be doing this shit. But I don’t. Am I a pussy? I don’t think so. I just value peace and I’m trying to cultivate that.

I don’t check social media to see if he posts, I don’t reach out. Peace. Cultivating peace is the name of the game at this point. Maybe just maybe some distance and time will fade the anger.

He used to say that he was like fire but I was like a flood in our self destruction. When we were friends I once joked that we could never be compatible because we would burn each other to the ground since we are both bipolar. When we did get together and he said I was like a flood it really resonated because my destruction is quiet and dark while his is loud and explosive. I always told him that he can’t burn me.

Look at me now. Evaporated.

[silveraardvark]

6/10/25

Tuesday

The house goes on the market Friday

[silveraardvark]

How do you mourn a relationship you were never meant to have?

How do you mourn a relationship you are supposed to regret?

[silveraardvark]

6/9/25

A day of manual labor, music, and racing thoughts. I’m a bit unsettled today sort of in a general way. I listen to nettles by Ethel Cain a lot and I find it incredibly soothing but somehow breaks my heart every time I hear it. I’m a bit of a quiet mess.

I try each day to be a good wife by doing things around the house. I want to make my husband happy I want to make amends. He doesn’t ask that I do this, he tells me I should rest. I want to feel like I’m contributing so I do it anyway. He has been anxious lately and I would do anything to heal him. I can’t but I’m trying. I want us to bolt from it all because maybe with something new he can put some of this behind him and therefore behind both of us.

We decided to rewatch the Harry Potter movies because they’re my favorite and I just need that comfort. Tomorrow I begin drawing again as my own form of healing. Another day gone.