What’s it like for love to live with someone who has anxiety and Agoraphobia

For long, my blog has been dedicated to one person mostly , for whom I actually started this site and never quite got around to deleting it which I used to do all the time-Love. Love doesn’t like his picture taken, love doesn’t like to look at his own pictures. My writings were quite similar to that, A picture of the inside of those neurons firing away inside my mind.

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I have been a captive of depression, anxiety, agoraphobia and a bunch of other things. It is hard to keep track of when you’re having high doses of valium each day, doozy dizzy all the time, half mumbling the words, half remembering them, wondering whether they were real or just a dream.  Agoraphobia is often, but not always, compounded by a fear of social embarrassment, as the agoraphobic fears the onset of a panic attack and appearing distraught in public. Triggers for this anxiety may include wide-open spaces, crowds (social anxiety), or traveling (even short distances). So love has known in his heart that even if I am bursting with excitement to go out “out” , it’s the worst idea. When he takes me out, he knows he has to be careful, like you’re around a baby that’s just born a few days ago. You check the bathwater ten , sometimes twenty times, before putting your baby in it to see whether it’s too cold or too hot. You check their food for solid pieces for the million times before putting it inside your her mouth. I am like that baby and my home, um no, my room is the womb of protection I hate leaving , so when I finally come out of it after floating for days in the shape of water in my lurid reality or dreams, Love knows I will cry. I will cry my eyes out, even if everything is more than perfect because there is always too much light, too much noise , too much space and even if he is there to rock me back and forth in his arms, and keep me close so I can get his warmth I will cry. I have horrible mood swings . So some days when love looks for me I am right there behind his back , running so love doesn’t see me and I can jump and hug , and surprise love from his back , and some days I am sleeping for 36 hours leaving love’s insomniac self to look at his roof and move his retina in the track of the cracks. Some days when I am happy I always crack lame jokes, and even if love says he hates them, I know love smiles, and sometimes I am asking love the same questions with an interval of minutes 5 like would you leave me? would I be able to sit for the exam? would you send me to an asylum when I am too heavy a work? would you leave me? would I be able to sit for the exam? would you send me to an asylum when I am too heavy a work?would you leave me? would I be able to sit for the exam? would you send me to an asylum when I am too heavy a work?would you leave me? would I be able to sit for the exam? would you send me to an asylum when I am too heavy a work?would you leave me? would I be able to sit for the exam? would you send me to an asylum when I am too heavy a work? and he answers them like love is hearing them for the first time when the truth is he knows every change of voice , every permutation and combinations of the possibilities of the frame of the questions in my mind.

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As I mentioned I hate wide open space and crowd. So our wedding photoes will have a frowning bride. Love always asks me what’s wrong . Love has trained himself like people in army base, to look for the slightest dangers- is her hands shaking a bit too much? is she cold when it’s 30 degrees in the food mart? Is she smiling with her lips closed to hide a clattering pair of teeth ? Is she alright? her hands shaking a bit too much.she is cold. It’s not alright. Cause he knows my anxiety holds me a hostage and doesn’t let me talk even when I most need to , he knows that asking is futile, so he looks for the signs so me and my anxiety can have a quiet date at the back storage room of my mind.

Love knows I forget things . So it happens that love has been planning for my birthday for 1 month and smiling and taking about films and everyday chores in his without giving me the slightest hint of what I am missing cause sooner or later I will know and be filled with regret and love doesn’t want either the sooner or later to happen, love wants me to forget those things like I forget our late night talks and early morning good morning and good byes. Love is really good at keeping me alive. My hand is devoid of any newcomer scars for straight 6 months. Love is really good at keeping me alive. Even if it takes every piece of him

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Love is really good at making me alive and happy and alive and happy and alive.

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Micro tales (5)

Soooo this is the last one:
In Nigeria, violence “by a husband for the purpose of correcting his wife” is just fine.
Well, how about I chop your pee pee make it a necklace and wear your balls as earrings because you weren’t giving my pee pee to climax. Sounds good?

Micro tales (3)

THE L A W

” In the Arab Republic of Egypt, a married woman “can leave the house only for purposes allowed by law or custom, otherwise she needs her husband’s permission or she loses her right to financial support”
A D V I C E
Just a tiny bit of advise, don’t fuck with someone who handles your food. You’ll never know the causes of sudden asphyxiation or lose motion, and die.

Micro Tales (2)

I know I’m just talking about women oppression, but I’ll move forward…AFTER THIS ONE
The rule states :
Yemen’s 1992 act says that a wife “must permit [her husband] to have legitimate intercourse with her when she is fit to do so.”
The women Get married at the age of 15 or so.. Just tell them, whenever is someone touching you without your control kick him in the nuts with as much force as you have. Hospital ER dept ia always open. Give him the form and go outside and see the expression of the guy when the nurse or the doctor asks him what’s wrong

Padmavaat : Hail To Male Ego

Hello Fellow Mortals,

So all over India has been on flame over this movie Padmavati, whose name was later changed to padmavaat, because some extremist group in Rajasthan thought the film portrays rajput culture in a bad way by only seeing the trailer. If people could burn calories by jumping into conclusion, this group will soon resemble Christian Bale from The Machinist. Now after the release of the movie, there’s been an ongoing debate over this movie being misogynistic. I just saw the movie today and thought about also washing my hand into the flowing river.

First of all, the story. I recently had the privilege to read it and oh my god! It literally proves men think with their penis and a boner can cause a magnum war. So the film starts with padmavati running behind a deer in a forest with bow and arrows and a king named ratan sing saw her and thought it’d be a good idea to follow her ( Alfred Hitchcock stalker villainous type right there). Of course when he’s leaching at her from the bushes padmavati hears her and shoots an arrow at his direction. Then she saw him, and instantly falls in love because the king looks like this :

I can challenge if the king looked like this instead she would have cut his balls and wear them as earrings.

Anyway so good looking people are getting together. When time comes for ratan sing to return to his homeland and tells padmavati about it she cuts his kind of healing in progress wound with his hairpin which proves my previous point wrong. Psychos attract psychos, not good looks. I mean what the fuck you’re doing woman!

Anyway so after that long story short, a pandit of ratan sing’s palace looks at them making out by hiding behind the wall ( again, perverts and psychos) and ratan sing kicks him out of his kingdom instead of throwing him to jail. Surely that pandit wasn’t an idiot and immediately plans revenge by going to the mad muslim king alauddin khilji and telling him about padmavati’s beauty hoping khilji turns out to be a bigger pervert to listen to it and attack ratan sing. And surprise surprise he is and he does!

At one time khilji becomes desperate to see padmavati and goes to Ratan sing’s palace without any army or sword and demands to see the Queen and ratan sing doesn’t kill him and actually agrees to it at the end by pursuance of padmavati because even she thought this guy is dumb as fuck and if she doesn’t show her face to this horny asshole all people are going to die.

Again, when khilji takes ratan sing hostage (because he was too smart to listen to the common sense padmavati was trying to put in him) padmavati, being a extremely cunning woman makes a successful plan and goes to free ratan sing. That time khilji was injured by his nephew, and ratan sing, instead of silently fucking off from there decides to go to khilji, poke his ego, and again not kill him! At the end, khilji obviously wins war against him, and all the women in the palace were forced to take jauhar, a ritual where they willing walks into fire and commits suicide to prevent themselves being mercilessly raped by khilji and proving men will do anything to protect their ago rather than protect their women.

There’s nothing unfair in love and war, especially when it comes to saving your whole kingdom against a psycho ruler. I know, many people will say ratan sing had values and that matters the most but he was nothing but a idiot arrogant prick because of whom a whole kingdom was demolished. He even refused to acknowledge his failure as a leader and decision maker again and again and refused padmavati ‘s help who could have saved everyone. So, in short this movie multiply manifolds an idiocy and hornyness of men and nothing else.

A Night Spend In The Absence Of Love

We spend the whole day together, i had a blackout, he put a ring on my finger, his brother is in town and I cannot talk to him today.

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Usually what happens is Love and I fall asleep while talking about random shits like should I really need to pee and dip my toes into the freezing marble floor layered for me, and step outside my comforter or how creepy his foot fetishes are but at the same time considering this as a good sign of not revealing nothing but my legs in icy chilly winds and imagine on the landscape he provides from his corner-a black screen. A utter black screen because he is too lazy to get up and get the light, because now I am accustomed to that black screen and unlike any Hitchcock-ian movie it doesn’t seem like something that’ll engulf me. Rather it has a welcome mat and it says he’s just waiting there for me, to join him.

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I like that black screen.

It probably blinds my vision where Love is trapped within those sarcasm he thought I didn’t notice(you’ll pay later) or those sighs where I can sense your need of silence but I break in because if you put too much trash in one trash can one day it will start to overflow, smell and be rotting away. But I know Sometimes even Love finds it impossible to sit up and look the person in the mirror and treat him the way Love treats me. I am living in a horns of a dilemma. You see, I love this man but he is already in a hole, i don’t want to contribute to the point of making it a black hole sucking depressed bitch but a I want Love to call me.

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I never realised what absence is because love was always there, I never realised what being lonely is cause love always calls me at midnight and we don’t talk for hours and we slept… Together. With one hand on the phone and the other on the Kolbalish (side pillow ) desperately trying to reach the distance between space and time.

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Now I know what solitude and what loneliness means. Cause I am surrounded by a profound solitude which is a treat for a silent person like me but the person who is lonely is taking drugs, looking every square metre of our pictures together.

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I am his habit. He is my need. We make quite a pair though.

But this hour of absence is killing me. I am so profoundly happy that i might start behaving like i should not behave : clingy, total psychopath and embarrassing.

And as kite runner says “they only let you be this happy if they are trying to take something away from you.”