Monday, June 17, 2013

Damned If I do. Damned If I don't.

For realz, dudes. This shit is ridiculous. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Saturday was the anniversary of Chris' passing, what I've affectionally re-named "The Bad". And let me tell you, it's been pretty bad. All last week my feelings were up and down and I'm still stuck in more of the down side of things. Everyone's been really great and supportive and I apologize if I haven't been the nicest or the most positive.

I had a nice weekend. Friday was pretty rough- I lost it at work and had to go home early. But I got to hang out with my friend W and he always makes me feel better. We pretty much spent the weekend together, which was amazing. But, I feel like I somehow procrastinated my feelings. I had entertained the thought of going to Arlington to finally visit and say goodbye, but I couldn't fully commit to the idea. You're going to laugh when I tell you why.

All this time I've been saying how I just want to be done and move on, but, now that the time has come to be done and move on I feel like I don't want to. That I was sad to say goodbye. I mean, how do I feel now? What do I talk about? This whole year has just been about getting through and surviving. Well, I've survived- now what? How do I feel now? What do I feel now? What do I talk about on this blog? What do I talk about with people? I've had this crutch for the past year and now I feel like it's too hard to let go. It's like I'm letting go all over again.

But hadn't I let go? Didn't I let go when I decided to not let this whole thing hold me back?

I've always been the type of person that after a year anniversary passed of someone's death, I didn't really hold vigil for it anymore. I move past it. I mean, why continue to mourn and focus on the negative? Now I feel like I'm being such a hypocrite by feeling like I don't necessarily want to let go yet.

But seriously, what am I holding on to? Nothing. And yet, it feels like everything. Everything that I've been for this past year. I'm scared that I'm not allowed to feel sad anymore or have days when I'm kind of down in the dumps. Or I'm not allowed to silently resent the couples I see getting married. I have to be normal now and I don't know how to be.

I'm still so angry. I'm angry that I can never be that normal girl anymore. I'm angry that I have to figure everything out all over again. I'm angry that he's gone. I'm angry at what he's done. I'm just....I just hurt.

But at the same time, I don't hurt. I have moved on. I don't silently resent the couples. I'm already normal.

AHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING!

Thursday, June 13, 2013

A Journal Entry

I was writing a new entry in my journal when I came across this one. I want to share it because in a strange way I'm proud of it. It's a bit wordy but, I don't care. When I read it, it takes me back to the very day that I wrote it.

I'm telling you now, chill out. Stop before you even start commenting on the link when I share this on my fb. Just. Chill. Out.

I'm fine. So here it goes...

November 17, 2012

Cry In The Bathroom

I don't know why I always have my good cries in the bathroom. I'm talking basic, guttural, fall on the floor type of cry. The type where you dig your fingers into your skin so hard that you hope that you're able to rip at least one memory out. The type that you're afraid your soul will fall out in one of your sobs.

My bathroom is a small one. Perfect for just myself. Black and white tiles cover the floor, as does my hair, and there is a white carpet runner down the center. I can't tell you how many times that carpet has been my solace. Actually, you probably can by looking at all the battle scars that are the mascara/tear stains that mix with its fibers. I don't know why I find it so comforting, but, every episode here I am: in child's pose or sitting like Buddha, turning to stone. Either waiting for emotional enlightenment or for the carpet to fly me away.

Today is the first day I've cried since I found out he cheated. After I found out it was all a lie. For a while I felt so good. Feeling like myself. The anger of it all pushing me to sanity, while being slightly unhinged. I mean, I laughed about it for Christ's sake.

Looking back this week has been a bit of a doozy emotionally. I'm tired, I got rid of my engagement ring, I've been constantly rejected and there's been too much visual presence of love. Oh, and lest I forget, remembering the lovely memory of discovering another girl's earrings in Chris' shit IN FRONT of his family.

Typically, the rejection from the likes of B would not affect me. I mean, it WOULD, but not to the level of achievement it's currently receiving. The thought that keeps assaulting my brain/heart is that once, just once, I want someone to love me enough to think of me. To choose me. To realize that the only answer is me.

I'm starting to resent a lot of things about myself. I hate that I'm considered pretty. I feel like I'm punished for it all the time. I hate that I give too much of myself. I hate that I care. I hate that I put other people before myself. I hate that I'm not good at one particular thing. I hate the way I make decisions. I hate the way I think. I hate that deep down I want to believe the best in people. I hate that I don't trust myself enough to make big decisions.

These are the thoughts that occur after the tears have stopped and the breathing has slowed. As I sit slightly slumped on my bathroom floor. These thoughts are intermingled with noticing how the texture in the paint is slightly raised and feeling the pain creeping up my back from having horrible posture, post-breakdown. Recognizing the ringing in my ears, despite the dingy bathroom silence. Noticing my heartbeat in the pools of tears that have yet to make their escape. Feeling the sensation of one tear losing itself, as it managed to remove itself from the others. Noticing that I'm holding my hands just so, that I'm cradling my naked ring finger. Wondering if it is Chris hauntingly guiding my hands to a soothing position.

And then I soberly remind myself that I do not feel him. I have not felt him at all since he's been gone. I do not feel the numbness of losing an appendage- of losing a piece of myself. To feel something missing. I am reminded ever-so of the gripping reality that I am pain-stakingly in the repsent. The searing, murderous feeling of being ever present in the here and now. The hard, cold truth that I am sitting on the floor, crying in the bathroom. Alone.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Anniversary

Hey stranger!

How goes it? Good? I hope so. Long time, no blog, eh?

Things have been going well. Every day I settle in more and more with my "new" life here. And I'm having a lot of fun. But, if you saw the title of this entry, the anniversary of all the hard times are coming.

Two weeks ago was mine and Chris' dating anniversary; May 15th.

I had been feeling a little wonky when the month started and I had actually started a blog post about it, but, never finished. It's funny...I'll feel all these feelings and then once I voice them, I feel better. But still the feelings are there, whether I want them or not. Which I don't.

I was in an Excel class all day on the 15th, which was probably the best thing for me. Subject matter that was in one way stimulating my mind and in another way, numbing it. I couldn't really focus on what that day meant or what I was feeling or thinking. But when I got home, I was making dinner for myself or something (I can't really remember what I was doing) and I just sat on the floor and bawled my eyes out. I hadn't cried like that in a really long time. And poor Beau, he just stared at me with this sweetest, confused look on his face and walked over and just laid on my lap. He tried to rub his face on mine but I was covering my face with my hands. And there was sat, just like that, for about 10 or 15 minutes. My friend, MM, came over later and brought me some wine which meant a lot. I felt okay the rest of the night. The next day, however, was a different story.

I woke up and it felt impossible to get out of bed. I was lethargic, anxious, just everything and nothing at the same time. And that's the worst feeling ever. You're absolutely REELING but feel like you weigh a ton so neither feeling is coming to fruition.

I sat down at my desk at work and just lost it. I told a few of my coworkers what was going on, when I was able, and they understood. But it got to the point that I really couldn't sit there anymore. I got up and went out to my car and called my mom and just sobbed. I was right back to feeling where I was last summer. I can't believe I felt that way for months. I don't wish that on anyone. It's awful. And I don't want to feel that way anymore. Any time I put my mind back there, the way my body physically reacts is...there are no words.

It's June 1st. In 14 days is the anniversary of what I have started calling The Bad; the day that my life changed forever. I'm terrified. I don't know how I will feel that day but I'm glad that it's on the weekend so I don't have to worry about work. I've contemplated going to the cemetery since I've never been and I want to have closure. I want to close this wound once and for all. A friend of mine told me that I don't need to physically be at the grave to have closure, but I like to stand on ceremony. For me, I need to physically be there. His....remains...if that's what you want to call them, are there. "He" is there. If I get to the cemetery and I'm blocked like I was last year, then I'll take that as a sign that I don't need to do it. But, I want to be done. "He" needs to "hear" what I have to say. And I don't feel him around so how do I know that he has "heard" what I've said at this point? I'm still so angry and hurt and I just need to release this for my sanity.

I hate that I have to do this. I hate that I'm not the person I was and will never be again. I hate that he took that from me. I hate how this entire process has happened. But, while I hate it, it is what it is. And I'm better for it.

If you haven't seen "The Great Gatsby" (uhh...you NEED to....), there is a scene where Gatsby is telling Nick the truth about his life. When he is talking about when he met Daisy, he says something that really resonated with me. He says, "I could have been a great man, Nick. I could have done great things, if I hadn't fallen in love".

Amen, Gatsby. A-freaking-men.