7-11-2008

Today used to be a day I looked forward to. Thinking back, I’m not quite sure why because it was always more important and meaningful to me than to anyone else in this world. I’ve always made holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries a big deal. He never did. No one ever does. I’d come to believe that I don’t deserve whatever it was I’d hoped for. But year after year, I’d still think it’d be different.

We were *this close* to hitting that 10 year mark. Can you believe it? After all we’d been through? Is that even a thing to say? After all we’d been through? Should you have to “go through” a lot to deem something worth staying in? Either way, I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d given up far earlier than I had even admitted to myself but was determined to make it work. What else was there out there for me? Who else? How many people would I be disappointing by breaking off an engagement? How painful was it going to be to see the dreams of becoming a mother and owning a home slip out of my fingers because I gave up? How deeply was my heart going to hurt accepting the fact that I’d be so alone for an undetermined amount of time? I’m glad I didn’t know the answers to those questions at the time because if I did, I never ever would have left.

Over the last 6 months or so, I’ve been all over the place. Was there more good than bad? Was this a mistake? Questioning everything. Depending on the energies in my mind on any given day, the answer differs. Overall, I know it was the right move. If anything, it should have been sooner so I could be over and done with this desolate time in my life. Wasting a half year away already swinging between the abiliity to function through a long-lasting situational depression and anxiety-ridden days of “when will this end?”

What I do know for certain is that I wasn’t happy. I try to remind myself of that daily or when I get down. I can’t explain it any other way than that and I know relationships aren’t designed to be rainbows and butterflies, believe me.. I know. But they do require an equal amount of committment and comprimise from both parties of which always teetered one way and not the other.

The last few months, I’ve been trying to rack my brain on how to move past whatever this lull is that’s happening to me but I’m struggling on figuring out how. Nearly 10 years is a long time especially when it started at age 18. I don’t know how to be or how to function properly as I should. I’m too attached, still, to everything. Every moment and memory, every day and night.. nearly every single one has him in it. It’s impossible to erase them all.

I’m not hung up anymore. Afterall, I’m the one that left. He’s moved on and I’m happy for him. Well, I say I’m happy for him. Sort of like a fake it ’til you make it kind of thing. But I am happy for him. I’m happy that he isn’t stuck inside a dome of lonliness like I am, at least I hope he’s not. Throughout my decision of leaving, that was my biggest priority. To make sure he was going to be okay, to make sure he had a place to go and live and to make sure he had the support system he needed. I needed to make sure it was all going to be okay for him before I could leave. But I forgot to make sure I was going to be okay.

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So over it, self. So. Over. It.

I am somehow put together by million little pieces. They often stick together perfectly and than out of no where, they don’t. There is this mix of crippling anxiety paired with a ripple of depression.. both full of denial rolling in without warning, interrupting my spirit.

A negative stigma around mental health that I’m so painfully guilty of not understanding is hitting far too close to home. It’s happening to me.

I push it out of the way but eventually the impenetrable wall won’t move anymore and I just feel so broken. I am so broken.

I want to be okay like I used to be. I want to regain control. But just as I think I’ve gotten there again, another wave hits and I’m drowning all over again.

It’s always hurting, my heart. I’m just always hurting.

When you’re alone, no one ever asks if you’re okay or how your day went. And if they do, do they care about making it better if it’s not all sunshine and happy thoughts?

In the beginning, I needed to remind myself to breathe in and to breathe out. I needed to remind myself to put on a smile because it’s too hard to explain how I feel. And in the off chance I forgot to smile, it hurts just as much knowing whoever you’re talking to is ready to change the subject.

Some days, my entire drive to and from work is full of tears and flooded with good memories making me question everything. Or bathroom visits for the sole purpose of pulling myself together.

Everyone else is moving and I’m sitting still to the point that I wonder if my psyche is in retrograde. This constant hurt and loneliness is crippling me. It was almost easier when it all this happened because everyone was checking in, making sure I’m okay. Listening; offering advice and glimmers of hope. I can’t even seem to become the person I know I am because my decision to walk away is still effecting me every single moment of every single day.

I don’t want to talk anymore than you want to listen. But I need someone to hear me and to genuinely tell me it’s going to be okay. To believe it. And I need a hug. A real, full of so much love, hug.

I’m stronger than this. But, how long does it last?

Sometimes.

Some days go by so fast that I’m not ready for them to be over. Some weeks I have more things to do, more plans, more people than I know what to do with. Sometimes I wonder when the last time I had a night or two of nothing to give myself a minute to breathe. Some nights I don’t even remember what it was like to be with someone because my days and nights and mornings are filled with pleasant distractions.

And then some nights.. I feel like I’m the only one in this world that is alone. The only one that doesn’t have a person. No one to turn to, no one to have lunch or dinner with, no one to go to an event with or to seek advice from. No one to share my successes or shortcomings with; or selflessly love me regardless of the comment that comes out of my mouth next. No one is there to send stupid memes to or literally chill while watching Netflix. No one is around to be on my side always, to love me forever, to know me better than I know myself, to get me the way I get them. I feel so much for so many people all of the time but I’m afraid no one in this world will ever feel ‘so much’ for me.

And if you’re asking, the answer is no, I don’t miss him anymore. Each month that passes, my eyes are more open to the red flags that lingered around far too long. But I do miss the companionship, the personal cheerleader, the presence of another human. I miss knowing that I could say and feel and act however I wanted and I wouldn’t be looked at the way a stranger would look at me. I wouldn’t be judged or questioned or ridiculed the way a friend or family member would judge or question or ridicule me. I miss knowing that I had a person. A non-perfect in nearly every way, but a person nonetheless.

The emptiness and void doesn’t seem to go away. Perhaps it’s masked by all the “stuff” I have going on in the spurts of too busy to think but when the slow times come; when nothing is happening and no one is around.. it hurts. All of it, everything.. hurts. The feeling of standing still while everyone else, everything else is moving on.. it’s so real and it feels as if there’s all this noise around but eerily silent at the same time.

Some days I say goodbye to everyone at work come 5:00 and don’t say another word until ‘good mornings’ 15 hours later. Some weeks I wish people would do what I wanted to do or say what I needed to hear instead of it always being the other way around. Sometimes my tears are too big and the room is too dark. Some nights I wonder if I’ll ever feel better.


About This Post: For so long I’ve been writing in a personal draft without publishing anything. It’s nearly 20 pages long. Full of ramblings and sadness; memories that are good, bouts of depression from both sides.. Moments I knew it should’ve been over, doubts I had never said aloud. From day one, I’ve had so much to say but didn’t dare say it thinking if I at least get it down and out, I’ll feel better. Similar to the concept of writing something down and burning it forever. It doesn’t work. I didn’t want to hurt anyone or damage anything by writing it out on a blog that I’m sure no one reads. But the more that time passes, the only person I’m damaging at this point by keeping all of it in, is myself. Thank you for reading. More to come, probably.

Is it because looking in the mirror is too painful?

The stories you tell are lies. All of them, lies. Lies about the money and the moments; the bad without the good. The struggles that are made up and the sorry’s that were never said. Lies about the pain and the angst and the mental verses might as well have been physical, abuse. Or lack thereof. All of it, lies.

To fulfill what? The denial that all the lies about me are in turn truths about you? I wouldn’t dare spit wicked falsities into the desperate ocean of rumor-hungry ears. I barely feel free enough to spill the actuality of it all.

How is healing supposed to begin when the damage never ended? What’s more agonizing than the lies you spread.. is that I should have recognized the scarlet colored flags so much sooner.

TY, Emma.

‪As I type this, I’m snuggling with a very tired Em and we’re listening to sleep radio on Pandora. We’re only half-way through our Auntie+Em Vacation but I wanted to let you know that I needed this week with you so much little girl. My heart is full beyond measure in this moment. Thank you for being my person.❤‬

  

The Weeknd + Mon.

I have nearly a week and a half off from work and I’ll be spending most of it close to home. This isn’t your typical vacation series as you’ve read about in the past. I’m writing to you on the floor of my new apartment after a long but great weekend of shopping and building.

About a week ago, I moved from my 2-bedroom apartment that I shared with my ex-fiancé into a 1-bedroom pad. I’ve lived alone once before briefly but I had him as a frequent visitor and house guest so this really is my very first by-myself apartment. And it’s taking some getting used to. But that’s a post for another day.

When I started the moving process, I purged a lot of items and about half of our furnishings went to him which is totes cool with me. I had most of my shelves, tables, etc for years and years. A new chapter calls for a few new things, right? What better way to replenish than a trip to IKEA with my mom!

A detailed list with measurements in hand, we tackled the massive do-it-yourself store in about 4 hours. I think that’s probably the ushe to those that don’t live in the Bloomington area. I didn’t get everything on my list but Amazon is a friend of mine. We also hit up the mall and a few stores outside of it. I found a new foundation (that I LOVE!), my mom bought a couple pairs of shoes and we both hit up Bath & Body Works in Albertsville, like one does. (The “S” is on purpose). 

The trip to the cities was short and we were both exhausted by the time we hit the hay Sunday night. (My mom had an extra 2+ hours to drive home once we got back to Fargo.) I feel so lucky and incredibly blessed to have such a great relationship with my mom. It amazes me to see how many families don’t have that. Counting my blessings more than ever lately.

Today (Monday), was put-stuff-together-day. I know this probably sounds weak and a little anti-feminist but I’ve never, ever put anything together. Not that I don’t know how or am not capable of doing so, but I’d always had someone to do it, so what’s the point? A new skill is the point, I know. IKEA furniture is surprisingly incredibly easy to put together and I felt pretty awesome when I had completed everything far sooner than I had expected. For the first time.. probably ever.. I understood what the Power of a Woman meant. I may have even done the Wonder Woman power pose!

The only hiccup I had was my dresser. The one item I really really need! There were 3 boxes, of which I grabbed. But I grabbed 2 correct boxes and 1 incorrect box. As I’m writing you, I’m on minute 86 of the estimated 102 minute hold. We’ll see what happens, I guess. MEH.

Anyway, this has been a great 3-day start to my first Staycation. Miss Emma May comes tomorrow for an entire week! Stay tuned!