So how many weeks has it been since my ass was dumped and my heart ripped out? Two? Three? The days are all blurring into one and I can't really keep track. Plus this long vacation threw me off of thinking in terms of a calendar. Nonetheless, here I am.
Here I am.
I'm kind of miserable. Maybe I shouldn't share that. He probably still reads this thing and that would seem pathetic or something I'm sure. Wouldn't want to show our true feelings, would we? That would be playing it all wrong, right? Blech. I've never been one for playing by the rules. Rules schmules. They don't suit my brand of crazy.
So here I am. Breaking the rules. Sharing my misery.
Doesn't help that right now I have the hangover from hell and so am feeling especially shitty.
And that's just it. Most of the time, I'm okay. I feel good. I find things that make me happy. Keeping busy helps a ton. But in the quiet moments or when I feel down for some reason or another, the sadness creeps in and I lose it.
I think the hardest right now is thinking that he's so happy without me and I'm here all alone again, left behind. I think I'd feel better if I knew he was sad too.
And at the end of the day, I know it's for the better. I do know that. It's just been hard.
So naturally I've been doing a lot of thinking about myself and all my relationships and how I keep finding myself here. I feel like I want to hope for the future, but if something doesn't change, what little hope I have left is not going to cut it.
This is really hard to write. To accept culpability for being left over and over again. To find what I've been doing to make that happen. And I think it's this: I am alone.
Think about that for a second.
I am alone. Alone is my default. It's my true self as I know it.
I learned a little psychology lesson recently in a random setting, but hit me as really poignant. I'm gonna get this wrong, but I think I have the idea right at any rate. There is a part of your subconscious that believes you are a certain way and so we repeat patterns to make that true. The brain is just that powerful. Even if circumstances change, we sabotage them to keep those "truths." Make sense?
How does this apply to me? Well, I've always been an independent girl. Apparently my foster mom said she'd never met such an independent baby and I was very cautious with affection as a child. As an adult, in relationships, I've done one of two things. In my early twenties, if things got scary, I'd just leave (peace the fuck out, yo). The latter part of my dating life, if I suspected my boyfriend was puling away, I would too. Instead of fighting for a relationship (and it's not like I'd leave, but I'll get to that later), I'd just pull back, convinced (rationalizing) that if he really loved me then he'd make the effort. Fighting is just too scary. Too risky.
Yet I don't fight and I get left anyhow.
So back to my orginal point, I think this is in part because I'm adopted. It's not necessarily the fear of abandonment (though that's a part of it for sure), it's that I came into this world alone and I've always taken care of myself and I think I truly believe deep down that that's how I'll always be. Alone.
And so I make it so. Not consciously of course. And I'm not happy about it. But I do it nonetheless.
Of course I don't want to keep it that way. I want to be all-in in a relationship.
Not that my heart isn't all in. It is. It was. And that's partly why I'm sad, because my heart is pretty broken still.
But I clearly hold myself back and don't fight for what I want and need.
I also think maybe I'm choosing people who reaffirm this belief. People who will ultimately keep me in that state of alone.
So I need to make some changes. Change my thinking. Change my self-perception. Change what truths I know about myself. I'm not entirely sure how to do that yet, but I think figuring this shit out is the first step.
I'm supposed to have coffee next week with another ex, one I'm so glad I stayed close(ish) with and whose perspective I can't wait to pull out of him, whether he likes it or not.
Then, since I haven't started therapy again yet (partly because wading through the HMO red tape is its own psychological hell), I think I'm going to recruit all my friends to have mini sessions with me. At least I can get talking and analyzing again.
And of course there's you, dear readers, dear friends, dear kiddos, you who are always here reading no matter how little I write or how crazy I get. I plan on using you people a lot. I'm not going to hold back here. I know you probably don't think I do, but I do hold back. I do censor the blog a bit. So I'm really going to be brutal on myself and let you help me through this process.
As my cousin told me just now, I'm not really alone. Not really.
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