Back to baseline

I am okay.

Really.  I am okay.  I am no longer worried about falling off the edge.  I am okay.  

Thank you all for reading what I wrote.  It is never fun to read the thoughts of a depressed person, and I thank you.  I cannot tell you how comforting your comments were.  Sometimes, the best support can come from strangers.

I am not sure what to do with this blog now.  I have a regular blog to talk about regular things.  Dunno.

Therapy tomorrow.  Not sure how this is going to work now that I'm not horribly depressed.  last week she took the opportunity to find out about my family and my relationships to my parents and now she seems to want to get into all this stuff that I've always been dealing with - the pressure my parents put on me, how I've lost my own opinions in the mileu of my parents' opinons, etc.  I don't know how much I want to go into that stuff.  Part of me still wants to talk about my failed relationship.

Hello I'm still ANGRY that the only way I can manage happiness is to cut him out of my life completely!  I hate this!  I don't know any way to fix it though, even if I did try to be his friend.  He most likely hates me and only will spit poison.  It is so sad.  

This was my first love.  I had such hopes.

Better

Wow, this is so much better.  

It's still not great - I'm not back to "normal" - but it's better.

I think it was the combination of taking him off my buddy list (and not talking to him for a whole week) and going to see my friends in the city last weekend.  We had a reunion weekend of sorts, and it was just spectacular and magical to be surrounded by people who know me and love me - where I don't have to constantly apologize for myself or prove myself to anybody.  It was a great weekend.  I had so much fun.

I also tried pot for the first time.  This is kindof a big deal, since I'm the only person I know that has held out this long before even trying it.  The reasons why I didn't smoke are complicated, and have a lot to do with what happened to a couple of my high school friends when they started smoking.  Then they got more complicated when I started dating him because he is a total pothead, and pot became one of the biggest "problems" in our relationship because I didn't approve of him smoking himself stupid every night and being content to live in his parents' house and work a menial job.  Because of that perpetual argument, I really couldn't try pot because it would have made me a hypocrite.  I'm not sure if I decided to smoke just to spite him, but it definitely felt good to do it in spite of him.  I've been feeling a little "out of the loop" about it for a while - like everyone else has this shared experience that I can't relate to.  But because of him, in order to hold my ground in the perpetual argument (because everything was an argument) I couldn't explore it.  Anyway, I'll probably have to smoke again because I was drunk at the time and if I did get high, I just felt drunk.

Anyway... the really good feelings from that weekend carried over once I got back home.  I mean, it wasn't all gumdrops and rainbows.  My dad let slip that he saw my ex out "on a date" at a restaurant that weekend.  I don't think it was a "date" because all of his friends that he goes out to eat with are girls.  But whatever.  That threw me off for a couple days.  Also, I saw that he changed his facebook picture to a new one, and when I saw it my heart sped up again.  I hate how strongly my body reacts to any new images or news about him.  It's like I'm about to have a panic attack.  Heart and breathing speeds up, and I suddenly feel queasy and terrified.  Everytime.

So, things are a little better.  I am not miserable 24 hours a day.  But I still feel very unstable - like the slightest thing could push me right back into how I was.  It's not a comfortable place to be, but it's better.

I am very angry though.  I am so angry that it had to come to this.  That it had to come to not being able to talk to him AT ALL in order to just maintain a minimum level of sanity.  That is not fair.  How the fuck did we screw it all up so badly?  I HATE that the greatest romance of my life has now been tarished and cheapened with this shitty ending.

Poison

I deleted him from my buddy list.

I had another breakdown today.  He was online.  I don't have anyone else to talk to about this shit.  I'm too embarrassed to talk to anyone else.  Also, no one else is that invested in me to really care. 

It started out ok, but then his "help" started to feel hostile, and before I knew it, he was telling me how I treat him like shit.  Saying that I was using him because I said I didn't want to be friends, and then turned to him for help when I needed it.  He says he gets nothing from me, nothing, nothing, nothing.  He only gives.  Gives, gives, gives.

IT'S NOT GIVING YOU ASSHOLE.

It's not GIVING when you berate the person who needs you.  It's not GIVING when you make them feel guilty for taking up your time, or making you drive an extra few miles out of your way.  It's not GIVING when you start a fight at their grandmother's funeral because you're hungry but too picky to eat any of the goddamned food lying around!

Since we stopped having sex, each conversation we have had has gotten progressively more poisonous.  His "giving" has gotten more and more painful.

But it has made me realize something.  He has NEVER been able to give, in any way.  What has he ever given?  All I can think of is the locket.  A going away present to remember him by- before we decided to stay together despite being very long-distance for a year.

He has also never said "I'm sorry."  Never freely of his own will.  Every time I talk to him I say I'm sorry.  For everything, anything, there's always something he thinks I should be sorry for.

My friend put it into my head last week that perhaps this relationship was abusive.  I had never thought of it that way.  Ever.  Up until RIGHT NOW I have always thought the world of him, and never let anyone say a word against him.  Not when he blew me off the day my dog died, not when he picked a fight at my grandma's funeral, not when he opened a fake email account and posed as someone else to get the password to my private blog and then sabotaged me with my own material.  (And didn't apologize.)

Even if he used to make me happy (which I still think (hope) he did...) there is only poison left in him now.

I deleted him from my buddy list.  A big step.

But who will give a shit about me now?

There's never any fucking help!

My "therapist" stood me up today.  

I guess it's my own fault.  I wrote on the intake form that she shouldn't call my phone number, and instead should contact me through email.  Except I can't check my email at work, and the appointment was directly after work, so I never got the message that she had to cancel last minute because her kid got sick.

I went, and got there five minutes early.  It's always a little awkward because I don't know if I should knock on her office door or not - if I'd be disturbing someone else's sensitive counseling session or something.  So I waited in the waiting room for her to come get me.  Five minutes.  Ten minutes.  I got up and tried knocking softly.  No answer, but maybe it was too quiet?  Fifteen minutes.... twenty minutes.  I tried knocking loud.  No answer.  Thirty minutes. 

At forty minutes I broke down.  Of course it crossed my mind that she could have had a reasonable reason for not showing up, but I had forgotten that I had written that she shouldn't call me.  It seemed more likely that she forgot me.  I needed HELP and I finally admitted that I needed HELP and I did everything I was supposed to to try and get help and there was still NO HELP.  THERE'S NEVER ANY FUCKING HELP!  And things spiralled downward from there.

Crying in the shrink's waiting room.  How cliché.

I didn't know what to do.  I texted him.  He is the only person who I've ever felt comfortable talking about being "crazy" to.  He is the only person who probably sees me as legitimately nuts.  In a good way?  I don't even know anymore.  I guess I must have come off as even more crazy than I really was, because he texted back suggesting a crisis hotline.  That was just wonderful.

Now I am stuck with myself for another whole week with NO HELP.   And I am struggling and I am failing.  I am failing at my job.  I cried at work for the first time in my entire life.  I am failing at my other job.  I got chewed out by my boss the other day for doing things last minute.  I might be picking up 2 more part time job/internship commitments because my mother insists that I PUT MYSELF OUT THERE because the only way to succeed is to be  GO-GETTER and I have went and "go-gotten" myself into way more committments than I can handle right now.  Two more groups of people to fear letting down.  Two more chances to find out I suck at my job and not get a good reference.  Two more committments to stress me out and take time away from the gym.

The gym.  I haven't gone more than 4 times in the past two weeks.  This is not good.  I NEED to be working out.  I have completely slacked off and failed MYSELF.  AGAIN.  

PLUS I have to wear this godawful bridesmaid dress in a wedding coming up and if I gain a pound I won't fit into it.  I'm serious.  And it's too cheaply made to be altered.  Pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure....

I'm about to fucking explode.  And if all that isn't enough, I have a fucking hemorrhoid and a zit on my chin the size of a planet.

I am this close to giving up.

Distance

I really don't have time to be updating this now on my half hour lunch break, so please forgive abruptness or typos.

I talked to the boy one (last?) time since that fight. I tried to explain that it's just too hard for me to be friends right now. That I don't want him to be miserable, but that it's too hard to hear about him being happy. I tried to explain that I didn't want to cut him out completely, but that I just wanted distance. I'm not sure any of it got through. I don't think we're on any better terms. And now... we're officially not talking.

And it sucks.

Now, for the first time since we got back together on New Years, I have to deal with the part of breaking up where you MISS HIM. Where anytime something interesting, funny, or whatever happens, you want to text him about it and then you remember that you can't. When something happens only he would appreciate, you can't. When you need to talk about something you only felt comfortable talking about with him, you can't. When you need his help with something silly, like fixing my ipod, I can't go to him.

I fucking miss my best friend.

And I feel like a horrible horrible person (even though you'll all tell me I'm not) for doing this because it has hurt him so fucking much. I can see it. And I know he's miserable too now. And that's not what I wanted.

Shit. Late.

Do you like yourself?

There have been periods in my life in which I have really liked myself.  Now is not one of them.

It is remarkable how the same trait can seem like a positive thing or a negative thing just based on your mood.  Lately, all of my traits seem negative.  It is hard to find anything that I like about myself, my personality, my skills, my talents, right now.  I can only pinpoint the things which I am not happy about.

I wish I had more hobbies.  Ones that involved getting together with other people in order to do them.  

I wish I wasn't so emotionally unstable.  I wish I was more fun to hang around with. 

I wish I had more things about me that are uniquely "me." 

I wish I was more of a go-getter.  I wish I had more drive.  (I wish I had more money, but I choose to watch tv rather than get a second job.)

I wish I stood out in a group.  I'm not the prettiest, I'm not the funniest, I'm not the wackiest, I'm not the loudest, I'm not anything.

I guess this bout of depression is about more than just the ex.  Although the hobby thing was something he pointed out about me.  I don't know.  Alot of his observations about me really upset me.

He pointed out that I don't have any hobbies.

He called me a "goodie goodie," "nice girl," "good girl."  As much as I've always thought of myself as having some sort of edge (and wanting to have some sort of edge) I apparently am not edgy.  I'm just a nice girl that does what her parents want her to do.

He pointed out my emotional neediness.  According to him I am more needy than other girls.

He didn't see me as artistic or creative.  (Something I thought I was.)

He didn't see me as passionate about social causes like gay rights or sex education.  (Something I thought I was.)

He saw me as conservative when I saw myself as liberal.  (He saw me as conservative because I don't smoke pot or approve of people smoking pot.  And because I support Israel and want to marry Jewish.)

He would always tell me I was special.  I asked him to tell me what made me special.  And I know I was fishing, but I was curious because I really wasn't sure what exactly he thought was special about me.  All he ever said was that I was sexy and smart.  He was never able to come up with anything else.  I chalked it up to the fact that he isn't always so verbal... but I still wonder if he even really knew me.  Or, what exactly did he know me as?  Because I don't think it was the same thing that I knew me as.  

I didn't like what I saw when I saw myself reflected in his eyes.  And that confuses me and scares me and I don't like to think about it.  I really thought this love was REAL and TRUE and SPECIAL.  But how could it have been those things if he didn't really "get" me.  Or maybe he did, and I just have a warped perception of who I really am.  But if that's true, I really suck.

The fight

He called, just to say hi, because we're friends, and he just wanted to say hi.

We ran out of "hi, how's it goin" conversation soon enough, and not wanting to hang up but not knowing what else to talk about, I made the conversation serious.  I started to tell him a little about the therapy session, and that she had even suggested I bring him in to talk one day.  He said he'd go.  Then as it got more personal, it started to go sour, as our interactions always do now.

He is upset because he thinks I want him to be miserable.  I don't want him to be miserable, but it does hurt to hear that he's happy and doing well.  There is a distinction there, but I'm not sure he can detect it.  "The difference between me and you is that I want you to be happy," he said.  I tried to explain, but he hung up on me.

I tried to text that I was sorry.  I'm sorry I can't be the kind of friend you want me to be yet.  I'm not ready.  He replied something devastatingly immature (the kind of response I have been trying to put out of my mind for a long time): "Well, you are doing a good job of making me want to keep my distance."  A threat.  Why does he lash out with silly, strange, and empty threats when he's upset?  Another thing that always upset me.  I told him that "A little distance is ok.  Most people aren't able to be friends right away."

I really hurt him.  I can read him so well at this point, that I know how bad he's feeling even though he has basically stopped talking to me.  The body-language of non-communication.  He never answered that last text.  The next day, I instant messaged him to ask if he was ok.  "I'm fine."  "I'm fine," translates to "I am angry and ready to start a fight," so I never responded. 

I know this is what I needed.  I needed some space and distance to get my head back on right.  But I hate that it had to happen this way.  I hate that I can't be his friend.  I hate that I had to shoot him down, especially when he had that cute puppy dog enthusiasm for our new friendship.  I hate that I feel like I'm breaking my promise... I promised I would never cut him out of my life.  And I meant it, and I still mean it.  Can we have distance without having to cut each other out?  Can he understand that asking for distance is not the same as cutting him out?

I think in this case it was him who was in denial, and whatever little rug he was standing on just got pulled out from under him.  I know how that feels, and I feel for him.  I miss him and I wish I could hold him and make it better.  I wish he could hold me and make it better.  

I also wish that all these flaws and signs of immaturity weren't so fucking apparent now.  Why can't he just be the man he could be?  

Everyday I open the door just an inch more to the idea that he wasn't right for me.  But it's a really goddamned slow process.  I am not willing to let the light in too quickly.  I am no where near ready to step through that door.