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I worked a long, long day yesterday. I went home, ate barely enough food and went straight to bed. I was exhausted and painfully lonely.
I really do like having my house be entirely my domain and my responsibility. I like having my own space, the sense of privacy that it brings. But man, I really do hate being alone. Or rather I hate being single. And it isn’t the lack of sex, or the pointless stigma supposedly attached to it. It’s just not having someone to call whenever I need too. Yes, there are about a dozen people in the world who say I can call them when ever and talk to them about anything, ask them for anything. And maybe 4 or so of those I’d feel comfortable doing that. I started to call Rose yesterday, but then I realized I had only about 30 minutes to get ready for my restaurant shift and there wouldn’t be enough time to talk to her about the things I want and still manage to get myself together for work. And of those dozen people few are in this county and even fewer would I actually feel comfortable talking too.
I recognize that I’m kind of isolating myself lately, but I’m not sure how to change it. I mean, I do talk to people, Hawthorn, my mom, some of my coworkers at the restaurant, my close friends (though not as often as I’d like). It’s just that something is missing. I’ve been dreaming a lot recently about my best friend who I, uh, ‘broke up’ with last year. I don’t regret my choices or actions in that situation, but it’s made me feel very aware of what I’m missing: someone to talk to who knows me well, isn’t distracted by children or by their own really screwed up problems, who will listen to me without judgment, who I don’t have to tell whole long back stories too, who will stroke my hair and hold my hand and tell me it’s going to be okay. Someone who is my partner in things, both good and bad. And I recognize how selfish it is, but a few of friends who meet most of these criteria have their own current deep emotional problems and I really would like to have time where some one is paying attention to me and not comparing it to their own situation or problems or turning the conversation back to themselves.
Yes, I see that some of what I’m describing is therapy and I’ve already rejected that. It lacks intimacy of the real kind (intimacy brought on just by telling your secret fears is kind of hollow in my opinion), it lacks physical comfort (even, or especially, the non sexual kind, hand holding and the like), and it lack immediacy (I can’t make an appointment and get myself to the place I need to be in to talk on a schedule, nor can I decide I need to talk and then wait hours or days for an appointment).
My need is for someone who can come right over and just be there to make me tea and hold my hand when I feel bad (mentally or physically). I can see how selfish it is, but I want someone to share the burden of how I feel, but someone who wants to help support me emotionally, who I don’t have to feel guilty about interrupting their life, because their life is already part of mine. And I really don’t think this is too much to ask for.
Maybe I’m not even ready for it yet. It’s only been 5 months since Hawthorn and I broke up. But I am very much feeling the lack of it lately. And if one more person tells me this is my time to get to know myself and become whatever before I’m ready to share with someone else I am going to punch them in the nose.
Understand, I don’t think a relationship is going to save me, or necessarily even help me get better. I just recognize that there’s a distinct lack in my life and that space is shaped like a boyfriend but could be filled other ways.
This post at io9.com is very interesting. I’ve actually wondered with some regularity (when I don’t have anything else to stress about) what the long term effects of so much cortisol is doing to my body. If we extend the findings of this study to realm of possibility then one assumes it’s damaging my endocrine system and making me more prone to future depression. YAY!
But what’s actually the most interesting here is the comments. Many folks giving the usual “just get over it” and “you can will yourself out of depression, if you were a better person you would have done this already” type comments (although I think many people don’t realize that that is specifically what they are saying). One commenter made an excellent point and I hope I’m breaking too many internet rules by posting it here, but here goes:
“Getting over it” isn’t something that happens over night, once your brain stops knowing how to make ‘happy’ anymore. Its a choice to have discipline similar to being a marathon runner. Every day you have to have focus and choose, again, to do this difficult thing that hurts, on the chance of a really cool payoff long in the future. You work to modify your body, physically, through hours of effort. Taking care of your mental health is what you do, it is your hobby, and it is an activity that takes a similar amount of effort as a full time job, running your own company, training for a marathon, or getting a new degree.
“Get over it” is the equivalent of saying “get your MBA” or “run the Boston Marathon”. Yes, it is something that just about anyone can do and will improve their life. But its not something that is taken on lightly and shouldn’t be given lightly.
There, my friends, is the rub. Or at least the thing I’ve been losing sight of. I do feel better, even though I know I’m not better. And lately I’m guilty of just trying will myself better when I should be asking for help. (Yes, YES, I will call my doctor and make an appointment about the physical things that I have been stressing over and that will probably help a lot.)
It was truly a nice boost to read all the comments on this article and see the folks defending against the “you can just get over it” responses. Made me feel like there are others out there, made me feel supported and gave some excellent insight into how others have dealt anxiety and depression. Sometimes you find a boost in the most unlikely of places.
So I’m reading along in my happy blog list this morning, all the lovely folks who make me laugh and think and I come across this post by The Bloggess (who is generally hilarious and clearly crazy) and I’m nodding and agreeing all the way through it. Especially when she gets to the part about needing to be told that it’s going to be okay. I feel like right now I am really, really lacking in lots of positive it’s going to be okay statements from folks around me (and from my own self). And I find myself in an awkward space where someone does just need to come over and drag me out to do a photoshoot with wigs and fake cigarettes and make me have fun, but depending on how that’s presented and who is doing the presenting, I might be offended, annoyed or even more reticent to socialize.
Here are some of my problems that might or might not benefit from a surfeit of it’s going to be okay:
1. I still feel completely invalidated by the Hawthorn situation. Like if we assume I made all the right choices, or the very best choices I could make given my circumstances and feelings and the information I had at the time, and assuming that he is not cruel, intentionally malicious or out to get me then what? I mean, really, what? That means I’m just here, still feeling completely invalidated, like everyone either thinks I shouldn’t have known better or that he’s a horrible person. I can wind the thread out and say, well I am in a better place now and I couldn’t have gotten to this place with out all the prior events. But, BUT! So? I still feel like I need to be reassured that I did make the only choices possible, that they weren’t bad choices, that I didn’t do anything wrong, or anything to make the situation worse. I don’t know who I am supposed to get this validation from, myself, I guess, but I suppose that doesn’t happen in any way but just letting go and I’m still too hurt to let go.
2. It’s really excellent, so good that I’m no longer in a nearly constant state of hyperoverdrive panic. I can talk myself down or take a pill and generally deal with what’s immediately in front of me. But my social anxiety is still pretty high (though it has been for at least a decade) and I continuously don’t immediately recognize that need downtime when I’ve overextended myself socially. But I also feel like I need validation for this. Like I need to be told that it is okay for me to want to spend evenings at home alone. Like I need affirmation of my legitimate need for alone time. Someone (me?) needs to recognize that I’m not being a bitch, or a hermit, or weird and isolationist, rather I can only deal with, only manage so much, before I need to pull back and regroup. Someone needs to tell me that it’s fine to take as much time as I need, when ever I need it.
3. I often feel weepy and it’s not just teary but like abject misery. Some of it is okay, I think, given everything in the past few years, given the immediate emotional situations I’m still dealing with. I’m certainly still trying to identify and define all it’s sources though and I think some of it might be hormonal. Like not just oops, PMS is making cranky hormonal, but really problematically imbalanced hormonal. I’ve been tracking it against my cycle and it is about 80% worse around ovulation and about 175% worse in the roughly 8 days before my period, and the first 3 of my period. This means, surely, a trip to the doctor, who will tell me (or not) that it’s okay.
4. I can’t go to the doctor or dentist. I’m just so blocked on this that I can’t even pick up the phone to make the appointments. I can’t really articulate what I find so upsetting about this. If it’s possibility that something might be really wrong with me, or some conviction I have that something is wrong and won’t be able to deal with whatever procedure is required to fix it. Or if I’m worried about money. Or if it’s some huge jumble of all of these things. Surely hearing it’s going to be okay from both the doctor and dentist will go a long, long way towards making me feel better. And like actually making me feel better, like with less pain and discomfort. I’ve been trying to reach out to ask people to help me with this, but I guess I’m not persistent enough or making it seem dire enough because I can’t seem to get a stronger response than, “Have you made that call yet? Are you going too?” And I think maybe someone needs to make the calls for me and take management of the appointments in hand for me until I get past this.
And annoyingly much of this comes back to being single. Just not having someone to lean on. Having ‘lost’ 2 romantic partners and my best friend in the last couple years I am left feeling distinctly without someone to lean on. I know this isn’t exactly true, that many friends will pipe up and say are there for me and they want to help, but it really isn’t the same. And I don’t know how to address it exactly, or resolve it. A friend was recently complaining about a car repair place asking if she wanted to leave it for a couple days and she was dumbfounded, why would any one do that? How would they get around? But of course the ‘normal’ assumption is that you have a husband or partner to pick you up or take you around or take up the slack. The world assumes that. Single and independent does have it’s perks but realistically most everything is easier when you have some sort of partner to help you, someone to take care of and to lean on in return when you need it. Someone to tell you it’s going to be okay.
I had a great visit with my cousins. It was fun to get out and do touristy Nashville things again. It was really fun to get to hang out with them. I talked A LOT. I talked a lot about me. I was roughly 16 when they were born and so it’s only recently that we’ve been close enough age to really socialize, so I told them a lot about myself at their ages and things I’ve done with my life. It was an interesting exercise to review and remember how many awesome things I’ve done (especially from their roughly 23yo perspectives). It was sort of a confidence building experiment for me.
There was a lot of anxiety in the visit for me as well. It’s hard to have house guests. I worry too much over things I can’t control, even things that shouldn’t be worrisome. Plus there were huge storms and tornadoes here during their visit so some of my worry wasn’t even unnecessary.
I’m still very much struggling with how to find the balance I need to continue to get better. I feel so much better than I did four months ago, but recognize how much further I still have to go.
I’ve been meditating a little on this post from Tiny Buddha. I find I feel like I’m still missing some piece of where my anxiety is coming from. I wonder, perhaps, if too much of my attention on it has been focused outward, on the robbery and the dental troubles and the break-ups. I haven’t been looking at the internal stuff, much of which I think is the same as the article author’s: high insecurity and excessive need for validation, plus a hard time recognizing who I am, rather than who I was, and no clue who I want to become.
Despite the joy and love and fun I’ve had for the past few days, it’s also been excessively weepy for me as well. I can’t say if just emotions feel heightened in general, or if it’s backwards motion in my quest to feel better, or if it’s simply ongoing hormonal yuck with the heavy period I’ve been having. Or some combination of all of those.
I’ve been feeling the lack of closure with Hawthorn. I can’t decide if it would be easier if I didn’t have to see him every day or if I stopped socializing with him. I keep wavering on just pushing through, because eventually I have to come out the other side of this, or asking to step back, and taking as much of a break from him as I can manage. But I do have to work with him and I do like him, and honestly I think it’s easier to push through and do the things I want with him and bear the parts that are less easy. This morning he brought up having the port-mortem relationship talk because of an interaction we had yesterday (he was asking about an album he wanted and I gave it to him, but pointed that having listened to it every day for a month after our break up that the sound of the album was the shape of my broken heart) and still I’m not sure I’m ready to have that conversation. Or maybe I’ll just feel better if I just get it done with.
I have really be reaching to socialize with people I see less often and get just get out and see people. It’s been hard too, as people do disappoint and worry that my expectations are too high. But then it seems sadder to expect less of people. I have lots of visitors and parties in the next 45 days and much of my own traveling after that. I am going to make a concerted effort to spend the next 10 or so days being a little more introspective about my own anxiety and what I think I need to do to keep healing.
A few quick things on my mind before I fall into bed:
I just realized how much I am looking forward to April! April is when life (spring) begins by my reckoning. I’m getting a (sort of) surprise visit from some loved family members to kick off the month, then a weekend with Wisteria and some of my closest longtime girlfriends, then Dandelion’s wedding (which I am crazy excited about) and then my birthday at the end! What a month! And it will surely be full of sun and flowers (and rain and leaves)! Hooray!
I had a nice evening with Hawthorn, mostly we talked about work, but it was a good, healthy sort of unloading and getting it out (mainly project talk and coworker gossiping, but we don’t do that at work, so sometimes we need to outside of work). I do still feel angry with him and I think we will have to have a long heart to heart in the next few weeks or so, just so I can make sure he understands how I feel now that I’ve had so much time to work it out. I think for closure on this I really need to genuine “I’m sorry I hurt you” apology (as opposed to the “I’m sorry your feelings are hurt” fauxpology).
My rage of earlier in the week was very definitely hormonal. I’d just like to record for my future reference that the emotional upheaval and disturbance around my cycle and the physical pain associated with it are getting consistently worse and lasting for more days in a row. Related: as I suffered incredible, sharp stabbing pain in my breast today, which I’m repeatedly assured is just normal and I only need to worry about if it continues after menopause, I was struck by how angry I am about women’s place in the world. It’s all well and good that we can sue for wage discrimination, that we are supposed to be treated as equals, that we are no longer considered property, but when will we really get to be equal? When will women’s medicine get funding equal to that of what erectile dysfuction gets? When will we finally be so fed up with quietly suffering pain that we ask for it to be changed? When will we really learn to speak up for ourselves and not resign ourselves to being paid less, to being talked down too, to the assumption that we’ll still do women’s work, that we’ll do all of this while bearing the pain of childbirth, the pain of simply having a reproductive system? When will we take ownership of the world enough that we stop accepting food and packaging and products that disrupt our nervous, endocrine and reproductive systems so much more than they do men’s but we still accept our place as being one of suffering and let it happen.
*cough* Um, yeah, I was definitely feeling like we aren’t doing enough for each other, ourselves or the world today. Stupid body pains. Alright, Imna take my hormones and go wonder why I’m not married to Wil Wheaton, or bedding Colin Farrell. Stupid hormones making me a parody of stereotypes. *grumble grump*
Despite my whining last night I did have a good time with Oak yesterday. It was a nice, open conversation and I am actually happy for him, should his new potential love work out. Even moreso, I’m amused that I figured it out before he did (girls don’t invite you to drive 2 hours to visit three weekends in a row and comment on ALL your FB posts if they don’t like you). “I guess she was flirting with me,” he said, “I guess I need to be hit over the head with that stuff.” Having the conversation about all that seemed to finally relax him enough to be teasingly flirty with me, which was wonderful, though a little bittersweet.
It was an enjoyable day, all the way until I was walking home alone from my afternoon with Oak. Partly because we’d talked a lot about how mad I am at Hawthorn and because I was mad at Hawthorn still and because my experiment of asking that guitar-playing boy out ended in two rejections (one more subtle and open to interpretation and the other pretty outright, though he still insists he wants to go get a beer some time. Whatever).
Ironically, I was paying lip service yesterday to how much better I’ve been at letting things go and not getting riled up over things I have no control over or things that would seem otherwise inconsequential. And yet, I spent the whole evening riled up over things I have no control over. As the anxiety and fear start to ebb, I realize that I am just so filled with anger all the time. More anger than I’ve ever had in my life. And I still really lack any sort of control over my emotions and emotional responses so anger more often than not means tears and frustration for me. Honestly, I’m so tired of crying that this in itself makes me more angry and perpetuates the cycle.
As a result of how I felt at the end of the day yesterday I spent some time trying to dig out why I am so mad at Hawthorn. Certainly it’s obvious on the surface, the poorly timed break up, the incredible upheaval to my life right when I really needed to feel stable, the obvious selfishness of his actions all the way through. But I think that bigger picture stuff is actually too much for me to deal with, it’s more how it plays out every day. I do enjoy his company and some of the time we spend together. I just feel like he takes it for granted that I’m going to go see a show or do something with him. And that combined with his repeated asking if I’m going after I’ve said no, leaves me feeling like he doesn’t recognize any of my boundaries. Plus he often fails to come through when I do want him, leaving me feel like we only do his things on his schedule and once again I don’t matter, or what I want doesn’t matter. Plus when he knows he’s angered or annoyed me he goes out of his way to try and appease me which just further frustrates me. I don’t want offerings and presents after the fact, I just want my own needs and boundaries recognized right up front.
Of course I recognize the need to separate myself from Hawthorn, that will be the best way to limit these frustrations. But even that is limited, since I have to work with him everyday. And obviously I am in a very lonely place right now and he’s easy to call on to keep me company. Which of course isn’t necessarily the best option, but we don’t all always pick the best options, you know? And I still maintain that having sex with someone else will surely go a long way towards helping me let go of the current attachments, I’m just not sure how t make that happen without things getting messy and more complicated. Or, in fact, I just need to meet new people who will think I’m charming and take up my time.
And when I’m feeling like this, I reach out more into to divine and unknown to try help understand what I’m feeling. This mostly takes form in meditation and much in depth exploration of my astrological chart and where my signs are sitting right now. A very simplified example of that is my current horoscopes, which have for the past several days, mostly looked like some variation on today’s projection:
Physical passion
This influence arouses a strong attraction to and desire to be with someone. You will be much more aggressive than usual in going out and finding a partner. This influence is often a sign of physical passion. Under this influence a sexual relationship is very satisfying to both partners. Even without sex, you will be very happy with other people. You feel more vivacious and attractive than usual and may well be the life of the party. You will work hard to gain the approval of others during this time, so strong is your need for affection. Artistic activity is also indicated, for the general significance of this influence is self- expression through creativity and love.
It’s not like it’s telling me anything I don’t know. More it simply affirms what I already know I’ve been feeling. I recognize how much positivity there is in all that. I do feel more attractive. I do want to go out and socialize more. I am much less locked in by my negative emotions and ready to get back to living in the world. Still following through on getting out more and seeing more and different people is work, even when it’s positive and my available energy for dealing with things, even positive ones, is still pretty low (although admittedly the positive social interactions do replenish that energy to some extent).
(An aside: hahaha! While I’m typing this, Hawthorn just stuck his head in my office door and offered me coffee and told me he brought something he knew I wanted from the old house–see? Offereings and gifts because he knows I’m pissed off. ARG!)
In other positive news, I got a kitchen table in this weekend and hopefully the rest of my office furniture arrives today, which means I’ll be able to get everything except the books put away. The apartment has been rapidly becoming more comfortable (the recent additions of a reading lamp by the couch, small stereo for the living room and getting the bed room fully unpacked have really helped) and much more like my own sanctuary. It’s nice to feel like I have a place I’m supposed to be.
Happy St. Squalid’s Day! I’m feeling it for sure. Headachey and hot. For some reason when I drink too much my metabolism goes into overdrive and I feel like my insides are overheating and I swear my skin feels feverish to the touch. Too many Paddy’s Day beers with Oak last night. Which was, well, obviously not a good idea. And probably not really worth it. I enjoyed talking to him. Really though, since he’s been back, the more time I spend with him the more disconnected I feel from him. He spent most of the first 30 minutes complaining (the service was bad, the ladies at the next table were too annoying, the Guinness wasn’t draft, &c.) which just get exhausting for me really fast. He did eventually apologize and say he’d stop complaining since it wouldn’t do anything, which was new for him, but still it set the tone for how I felt about the evening.
I wondered home, a nice warm evening walk through my neighborhood. Caught up with a friend, as he walked with me for a few blocks, he mostly seemed concerned that I was okay post-break up (with Hawthorn) and all. Which was genuine, wonderful concern for me, but it got me home feeling a little miserable and lonely. So I did the only thing you can do when you’re home alone, lonely and little drunk: I made a tentative date with a hot guy. Mind you, this isn’t a romantic, let’s-if-we-get-along-enough-to-fall-in-love date, no, this is more of a let’s-have-a-beer-and-see-if-I-can-persuade-you-to-have-sex-with-me date. Because it’s way too soon for me for the first one and I’m confident that succeeding in the second one will help free me from leftover past relationship clingyness and jealousy.
Happy St. Squalid's Day! It's how we recover from Paddy's Day.
Of course in the sober light of day today I feel clumsy, awkward and slightly embarrassed about asking a boy out (especially this one), but I’ll push through. I actually have very little shame in such matters, so it’s weird to see it manifest now. I guess I feel like maybe I’m trying to get away with something here, because I know I only want to have sex with him (what normal, single guy says no to that though?), and because Moonflower dated him in the memorable past (although I asked her first and got her cheerful, excited blessing), and because this guy is someone all my friends know and it’s hard not to have everyone know my business in this neighborhood, but in this case, I’d prefer some privacy. So, um, I guess I am trying to get away with something.
I’m good, I think. Panic attacks are definitely waning. The relentless insomnia is making me a little more unpleasant than usual. But since Monday’s meltdown over Hawthorn annoying me, I’ve actually been on a fairly even keel. I have been actively working on just letting things go, on embracing now and releasing myself from the need to be happy, rather working to settle with being satisfied. I’m pushing for a calm weekend: more household nesting, dinner with Violet, maybe a park walk and a museum trip. Life feels so much better and settled when I can calmly plan these things and not be stressing about relationships and furniture and moving and money.
So of course I went out with Hawthorn last night and had a perfectly nice time and now feel like a bitch for being so frustrated and irritated with him. SIGH. I am going to assume that points to the raw, open wound of the break being the cause of much of my anger and pain in the situation. I am going to take a deep breath before and after every interaction with him and try to let go on the assumption that time will heal much of it. I am going to keep trying to set limits with him until at least some of it sinks in. Mostly I’m going to try to let it go, let it go, let it go.
Yesterday both my mom and Cedar asked how I was, specifically in relation to my mental health. Let me try and repeat here what I told them, for my own future reference.
The past week or so has been rough. I’ve been feeling worse, lower, I think, than I was feeling for a month or before that. Perhaps part of that is having moved and done and not having those extra details to fill up my head. Perhaps part of it is the many grey days we’ve had in a row here. I did realize at some point a few days ago that I haven’t kept up with my habit of taking all the supplements that I think help me (multivitamins, extra vitamin D and vitamin B, Omega-3, St. John’s Wort, and 5-HTP), so I’ve restarted that cycle and almost immediately I feel better (I guess I should add vitamin B deficiency to the list of things to talk to my doctor about).
Over all the panic attacks have substantially lessened and I feel less high strung and riddled with anxiety than I did before. My biggest problem at the moment is that I feel like I have so little control over my emotions and my responses to situations that starts a self-perpetuating cycle. For instance something small will happen, like really bad customer service, and I will get very angry, in fact probably disproportionately angry. And right now, when I get angry, I burst into tears of frustration and rage, and then I feel even worse because I don’t want to be crying, which makes me more angry, &c. The aftermath of this leaves me feeling exhausted and wanting time to myself, which at this point there simply isn’t enough of. And I really don’t feeling like I’m avoiding people, or negatively isolating myself, just the emotional thing makes me feel so exposed and raw that I feel like I’m absorbing everyone else’s emotions and response as well as my own. Which is fine and great and uplifting in a positive situation. It just takes very little to spin everything into negativity.
I feel like I have really heightened sense of awareness of how I’m reacting in any situation, of how I’m feeling, of what the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ reactions are. Which hopefully is a good thing. Perhaps the biggest problem with all of it is that I have much clearer sense of who I am, of what my self identity is and a lot of how I’m feeling and how I’m reacting emotionally to things is directly at odds with the sense of self. The options seem to be to adjust that picture of myself to match the current reality, or to work really hard to struggle back to the person I feel like I was (or at least always wanted to be). The second choice seems like the only real option. I’m still remain unconvinced that drugs and therapy are what is going to help me with this. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a do it by myself kind of thing. I definitely need help, I just think I need to, um, experiment, I guess, with what kind of help I need and how I can do this. Writing and talking about it seems to help the most, presently. I think I need to start setting goals (like making necessary dentists and doctors appointments to deal with the looming bodily health issues) and checking those off as accomplishments. I think I need to start more actively thinking about the goodness in myself and the person that I previously recognized, who seems subsumed by all this anxiety and anger and negativity, and making a conscious effort to be that better person, while still trying to coddle and care for the hurt part of me. I definitely need to start slowing down, so that I’m throwing what energy I have at my job, and storing the rest for my own internal, quiet recuperation. I need to make sure that I’m treating myself carefully, and as if I am recovering and not as if I can simply overcome by doing. I will work harder to be my own friend and treat myself as I would someone else in my situation. More love, more care, more calm.
This week feels like it had nine days. Already. And it’s not even over yet. I think I’ve lost my love for shopping. I think PMS-y drama during furniture shopping ruined it for me forever. Probably this will not hinder my ability to spend money, I just won’t enjoy it as much anymore.
I’ve slept poorly the last couple nights. Some which can blame on the new house. I mean who knew there’s be cats fighting and screaming while chasing each other cross the roof outside directly outside my windows. Like not even in the yard or anything, but right outside my second story window. At least I assume it was cats, plural. It could have been my magic cat protector chasing possums that were trying to get in my window or something. Still it was very loud in that way that makes one feel panicky and unable to get back to sleep. I’ve stayed up too late working both at the restaurant and on (paid) sewing projects at home. I’ve been waking up early, despite lack of sleep the night before. Mostly I just feel unrested and ready to spend many evenings in a row reading and relaxing in my house. Alas, I’m working a bunch this weekend, heavy duty work starts in earnest at my day job next week and, of course, despite having purchased furniture, I won’t have it for at least another ten days. Yeah, so no real household relaxation for me for a while.
I have been making an effort to cook, or at least eat better at home. I’m still drastically lacking in the exercise department and I haven’t called the physical therapist yet. I guess I really do need a minder. Maybe therapy isn’t where my money should be spent, maybe I need a one day a week personal assistant to make my appointments for me and manage the parts of my life I”m really bad at. I am actually considering hiring a once a month house cleaner. Not because I’m dirty, just I think I’d feel better if I didn’t lose a day a month to massive cleaning overhaul of my home.
Mostly I have too much I want to do, not enough time/money/energy to do it and I’m starting to overwhelm myself again by worrying about getting things done, rather than just simply managing running to-do lists like I was doing during the moving process. I have the paid sewing project to work on this weekend, but otherwise I think I’m going to watch movies and organize nail polish. Nothing too overwhelming, you know? Hopefully enough, small, non-taxing things to give me a sense of accomplishment without further wearing myself down.
And I started my period today, so some of the sluggish ick I feel could easily be attributed to that, too.
For the last 18 years I have periodically wondered about, and half-assedly looked for a high school friend of mine, Cedar. I have often wondered where he ended up and who he ended up becoming. Through a really quite random chance a couple weeks ago I stumbled on some information that helped me find him pretty quickly and we’ve been corresponding for about two weeks now. This has been a really interesting experience because it’s a real correspondence. Not the usual, oh there’s so and so on Facebook, say hi, be amazed at how young/old they look, exchange and email and then just read each other’s updates that seems to happen. Cedar isn’t on Facebook or any other social media and hasn’t reconnected at all with anyone from his past so the reconnection part is exciting a novel to him. And I guess that’s rubbed off on me a little, but really I think I’m just very glad to have found him.
As I was driving home the other day I was thinking of something funny he’d written in one of his emails and suddenly I could hear him saying it, see how he’d move and what he’d do as he said it and I was really overcome emotionally, on a near physical level, with missing him. Like I’d somehow been really missing him for the last 18 years and something just completely opened up to reveal both the loss I’d had when the friendship went away and the gain I had in it returning. I mentioned this to him and said he’d had a similar experience when reading the first message I sent him, including hearing my voice, and that our entire correspondence had been sort of a rush of old memories and curiously easy new pieces fitting together.
Part of what’s been most surprising to me is how unjudged I feel by Cedar and the realization that our friendship even was like than when we were very young. In a back and forth of emails that has been mostly a tight combination of 18 years of catch up and windows into every day life, I don’t feel the need to edit myself or gloss over anything bad, I just speak. I have often realized in relationships as an adult that for me I know a friendship (or relationship) has deepened when I can be totally silly with that person. Stupidly, ridiculously silly, without feeling at all judged or, rather without worrying what the other person will think of me. I find in my conversations with Cedar that I am much, much more silly and more dynamic, moving from seriously, to funny, to teasing, to sexy, to haughty, to goofy and all around, without a care at all.
There is something to said for interacting with people who knew you when you were a teenager. Rose has been my best friend for close to 25 years, here and there as we find each other. And I certainly feel safer and more comfortable with her than anyone else in the world, some of that is our connection as friends/sisters, the length of our friendship and some of I think literally does come from knowing each other as teenagers. It’s like once you’ve been through something with someone and they’ve seen you at your worst, you’re just a little more bonded and being a teenager is sort of an extended ‘worst’ that fortunately eventually ends.
And Cedar appears to have grown up into every bit as good of a man as he was as youth. I have very strong memories of feeling very protected by him as a teenager, as he somehow stood between me and what was bad in the world. And so even if it ends up as nothing more than a long correspondence or a mildly renewed friendship, right now it feels really good to have someone around again who I feel like is actively looking out for me. I mean, not that that the rest of you aren’t, I know you are, just this has weirdly magic connection to it, like something leftover from a childhood dream.
No, I didn’t die in last week’s storms. Yes, I have been very lax in posting. I got a promotion at work which means much less time to screw off. And well, still no couch at home and when I’m there I feel like I should be actively involved in unpacking or organizing, or something, and thus, not writing. Of course I’m not really getting much unpacking organizing done either since I don’t have shelves or much of place to keep things besides in boxes. It’s getting there, though, slowly.
I had therapy yesterday for the last time for a while. I’m taking a hiatus. I just can’t seem to settle into making it as useful as I want it to be. Partly because I’m thinking of my larger problems as something I’ll deal with when I’m settled and I’m not settled yet, so it feels like it’s taking up time that I could be getting settled with, or relaxing or taking care of myself. And therapy doesn’t feel like taking care of myself right now, it feels expensive and useless. So, I’ve discussed it with my therapist and I’m planning on starting back around May 1, unless I decide I really need it in the interim. I don’t think I’m in a place to just stop, so I really do intended to go back. And honestly, if my insurance was covering it, I might just go to go, but since it’s crazy expensive, out of my pocket and all, I’m gonna hold off for a bit.
Also I really need to get on the physical therapy for my shoulder and neck. The work promotion is great, but I can’t be going to a bunch of different appointments during the day all the time, so I’ve also opted to use what time I can flex out during the day for physical therapy appointments.
All that said, I actually got some work done in my therapy session last night. I have plan for dealing with my further dental surgeries, and permission not to beat myself up to make it happen immediately but, I think a good way to get myself through it, so that was comforting to walk out with in my head.
I feel like I spent my whole weekend moving things, in furniture stores or at Home Depot, which was boring, frustrating and expensive. And still I have no couch. On Saturday Oak went with me to pick up Hawthorn’s chairs for my temporary use. And then we went and had lunch. I haven’t completely gathered my thoughts on Oak being back. After I broke up with him I told myself a lot of stories about his bad qualities to justify my actions. When things were bad with Hawthorn, I think I really romanticized Oak’s good qualities to punish myself for choosing Hawthorn. Now, I think Oak is still exactly who he ever was, the same mix of good and bad. And I enjoy his company, but I can safely say that I only enjoy it limited amounts and for certain activities. Because while many of his ‘bad’ qualities aren’t really bad, his no-nonsense practical approach to everything can seem really dark sometimes and kind of brings me down. And if I don’t catch him in a good mood I find I spend all of our time together ineffectively trying to cajole him back to good humor and it never works and just leaves both of us exhausted and annoyed. But when he’s up and chatty and we’re just taking a walk in the park I do love his company.
Almost all of this is true about Hawthorn as well, though in a different way. When I’m not his girlfriend and his thoughtless, selfish actions don’t directly affect my life, then I do enjoy his company. I like to go see music and art with him (both things Oak never seems to want to do) and I like talking him. Despite everything, I feel like he’s actually listening to me now, when I talk.
So yesterday, I swung by Hawthorn’s house, with some friends who want to buy the shelves I have left there. And after they left I was talking to Hawthorn, just BS about the day and he gave me a hug and started to tear up. And you know, I really do feel bad for him, banging around by himself in that big, empty house. Yes, of course he did it to himself, but it was his own thoughtlessness and lack of foresight that did it and not any maliciousness on his part. I had to be somewhere to meet someone, so I told him to come over to my house in an hour and I’d make him dinner.
I wasn’t going out of my way, since I made exactly what I would have done with or with him there, but he seemed very grateful. And so we just sat (stood–no kitchen table or chairs yet) and talked about both mundane and serious things. He expressed several times that he couldn’t believe I still anything to do with him at all after everything. And also how tired he was about feeling angry and toxic all the time (from his divorce, not from me–his son is applying to college and this is forcing Hawthorn into a lot unwanted interaction with his ex-wife). And I was sympathetic and as supportive as I could be, since I don’t think being mean gets me anywhere in situations like this, hurt feelings or not. And then he helped me hang my mirrors (I can leave the house knowing if I look schlumpy or not now, yay!) and hovered a bit trying be helpful in any way he could, but left before he overstayed his welcome. And you know, it was a nice evening with a friend. I’m sorry that it’s still tinged with so much suffering for both of us, but I hope the real parts of our friendship endure through all these hard parts.
I hope the same for my friendship with Oak as well. But as I told a friend this weekend, I am going to want to have sex again and I will probably want to have sex with someone I’m not in a relationship with, haven’t been in a relationship with and am not going to get into a relationship with. And there’s a good chance this will be someone I know and our social community is small enough that conceivably either or both Oak and Hawthorn would find out whether I told them or not. And in the wobbly balance of my current friendships with them, I’m pretty sure having sex with someone else would reveal how true the intentions of either of them are for friendship. I suspect Hawthorn would be jealous but would get over it, and Oak would lecture me on the inappropriateness of it and then, perhaps even unintentionally, distance himself from me, but people are unpredictable so I could be very wrong on both counts.
It’s all about perspective, folks: a story in three parts.
(1) I went out for a post work beer with Oak last night. He texted mid-day and I was dirty. Like should have showered before bed and decided to wait til morning, and then, you know, hit snooze 7 times. I rushed home, washed and blew out my hair, realized I didn’t know exactly where my make up was packed, decided I didn’t care and set out to meet him. Which was huge, right, no make up? It actually made me feel way more confident to realize I looked pretty good and came across as some one who just didn’t care.
It wasn’t awkward exactly. We just talked about work and moving and job hunting and my apartment and my family. Come to think of it, mostly I talked. I offered to walk in afternoons with him, as we often did when I dated. I left with a sense of having enjoyed his company but not exactly with the sense of longing that I anticipated. I actually feel like all my saying I don’t want to get back together isn’t lip service, which was more of a relief than I expected. However, I can’t say exactly why, but I think maybe he isn’t as opposed to the idea as I am. So I guess that could get weird, but I’m not going to worry about that unless it presents itself. All in all it was pleasant and I think I’m very glad he’s moved back here.
(2) Hawthorn came into my office this morning and offered to borrow a work truck at lunch and bring his chairs over to my house. He said he wasn’t trying to dissuade me from borrowing them, just he didn’t want them sold or ground up for mulch. I pointed out I wouldn’t do that and reluctantly I agreed to let him lend me his chairs. 🙂 I actually feel vaguely paranoid that he is reading this, but I suspect it came more from my very vocal complaints everywhere about not having anything to sit on. My incredibly adorable, wonderful landlord is putting up shelves for me today, so the end result should be TV and place to sit, which is pretty exciting, I think!
I’m actually only annoyed about the chairs now because last night I was thinking about writing up a post about how angry and bitter I am about Hawthorn and I swear every time I start feeling like that, he shows up and does something nice. It’s kind of frustrating.
(3) Through an odd and really random set of circumstances, I reconnected with one of my closest friends from high school yesterday. I have actually literally been trying to track him down for years but even my very powerful google-fu hadn’t been able to unearth him. Yesterday I stumbled across some key info (the city he lives in and the industry he works in) and was able to pull him up pretty quickly.
We’ve passed back a couple emails in the last 24 hours and what really strikes me is what becomes important when trying to sum up that past 20 years. Like in that perspective my divorce, now 11 years past, is still a looming spectre, but the entirety of my relationships with Oak and Hawthorn barely merit a mention. Rose gets props (24-ish years of friendship!) and Dahlia gets lots of time and storytelling on being the best/smartest sister/kid one could have. Travel matters, both past and future. When I talk about my current job, I realize I like it even more than I thought I did and recognize how much I’ve hated most other jobs I’ve had. Anxiety gets mentioned under the guise of the oral surgeries and the robbery, because it’s still a focal point but even it puts things in perspective for me now. All in all it was a good and interesting exercise for me. I don’t know how long I can hold onto the feeling but I feel lighter and more positive about things, although my entire lack of future plans stands in sort of sharp contrast to the past years of my life.
Life really does sometimes feel like I’m being offered a flower from a chipmunk.
I got an email from my friend Dandelion last night asserting that she’s sorry she’s been absent (due to things in her own life) and that she’d like to be more present. Of course I replied with love and welcoming of her renewed presence. This is, surely a good thing. Part of what had happened in the last year or two was a split from my long time best friend, which was not as hurtful maybe as everything else, as it was long time coming and I don’t feel like I bear any responsibility for the fracture of that relationship. Still I lost a close friend which has made navigating some of this healing stuff harder than it would otherwise be. However, I do know that I need to process and decompress the dissolution of that relationship and Dandelion is one of the few people I could have that conversation with who would really understand what had happened (Wisteria is another, but that will include processing it for both of us, which is, I think, different). Also Dandelion was present for a lot of the stuff that led up to my break down period, so even even if she wasn’t around when it all went screwy, I think renewing friendship with her and talking about these things with her will be really helpful for me as I know her to be a good and fair listener and I don’t have to waste a lot of time explaining the background to why I feel the way I do.
This also got me thinking about how some people just give you what you need when you need it. When I need to vent and or relax and feel strong female energy I call Violet and Calantha. If I need to feel like someone loves me no matter what and won’t judge me I call Rose or Wisteria (and our long time tight knit group of friends) or Rowan. If I need to laugh and remember there’s magic and humor in the world, I call my sister Dahlia. I am glad to have these people, and all of you, and everyone around me in my life. I am slowly recognizing that I need to be relying on my friends more and more, that they will not reject me, that they are already giving what I need without my asking and that I simply need to be present enough to see it. Present. In the moment. And Mindful.
For anyone following along closely, here is the full text of the email exchange with Oak from yesterday mostly for my own recording and to note that even when I think he isn’t paying attention, or replying to everything, I know he’s noticing every detail, I just don’t always know what he’s thinking about it: click to see the boring details
Oak keeps telling me to just keep busy, to distract myself until I can get moved and settled. So after yesterday morning’s pity party, I absolved myself of all my planned responsibilities for the day, except getting my hair trimmed and meeting with the painter to get he estimate on painting the new apartment. I oped in bed and read for a while, then I went and messed around at the new apartment, met the painted, washed new kitchen stuff and put it away and just generally was present in the new place.
Picked up Violet from the airport and took her to get a drink and cheeseburger for me. Had a lovely time, felt emotionally restored after. Went home, read some more, slept. Today I watched some crappy TV for a bit, sanded some furniture and then went and worked my ass off at the new apartment (one of the biggest problems with renting is that other people’s standard of cleanliness isn’t usually as high as mine is). I got the kitchen very clean, except one last little gross part which I was just too tired to do. I sanded and primed the parts of living room that needed it, in anticipation of the painters coming. And I spent a lot of time just wandering around and looking out my windows and feeling how much I like the place.
Both the painter and Violet said the place just felt good to be in. I agree. It needs a name, as I have named all my homes. I can’t decide if it’s get’s a proper name like fancy old manor house or if it will be something else.
Hawthorn helped me by getting me a lot of power tools today so I can finish up the rest of my furniture projects before I move. Violet and I had a nice conversation about my choices made in good faith and Hawthorn not being a bad guy, just doing what he needed to do and simply having bad timing. I feel better about the world in general. I am tired though. Good hard work tired. MOre furtinture work tomorrow. For the keeping busy. It seems to work.
Well I’m rather pleased with myself that I’ve managed to keep up with this blogging thing for a month so far. Eleven more to go! I tried to do an emotional inventory or progress report on myself last night. I’m not sure if I was doing it because I had insomnia, or if I had insomnia because I was doing it. So we’ll start there.
Insomnia: This has actually been a lifelong problem for me. I have clear memories of my sleep troubles from when I was eight or nine. It does seem to come in cycles and it does seem to be vastly amplified by stress. The muscle relaxants definitely exacerbated it the couple of times I tried to take them (might experiment one more time with taking them during the day). The Lexapro actually seemed to help with the insomnia, but left me dull, fatigued and lethargic during the day (plus the intestinal problems made it a no go anyway). I think that now that I am off the SSRIs, I will add the 5-HTP I was taking back into my regimen as it really seemed to help before and I believe it shouldn’t have ill effects with the St. John’s Wort (indeed they are often recommended together).
Sometimes I think if I could just get the sleep thing together I’d be much better off over all. Possibly that’s true, but there’s so many other factors that I don’t think I should give too much sway to the power of sleep (though it is healing a and good).
Panic attacks: These had increased dramatically for me in Oct, Nov and Dec of 2010. Now I am mainly back to having them only at night. Which doesn’t help the insomnia much but is better than getting them while driving or being out socially. The Klonopin does wonders for the panic attacks. I have mentioned (to folks for sure and probably here) that I understand the dependency possibility with benzos like this but you can pry my Klonopin from my cold, dead hands because this stuff is MAGIC. I think currently I am most relieved at the lessened panic attacks. This makes all my other problems seem less insurmountable.
Therapy: I think it’s only just beginning to dawn on my how much long, hard work therapy is going to be. It’s a bit intimidating but I think I am up for it. Planning on continuing it until I think I don’t need it. I do hope that this isn’t a forever thing. I’d like to start setting limits and guidelines for it. Like can I overcome my hysterical sobbing at the idea of going to the dentist? Can I learn to ask for help with out feeling like I’m doing something horribly, terribly wrong? Can I create a relationship with my mother that feels good most of the time instead of half of the time? Can I verbalize what I need out of relationships and set guidelines for continuing my trend of increasingly healthy ones (yes, I know recent events make them seem sucky, but both Oak and Hawthorn are Prince Charmings compared to previous dating history–I think I have already been making strides here and I’d like to continue that). So within the bounds of all that, I can’t guess how long I’ll go to therapy, but I’m glad to have it as an outlet and a support and I think it’s been helpful so far, at least in showing me that there is a path and there is help.
Blogging: Writing in this space has been incredibly helpful to me. I feel like it’s given me a place to order my thoughts and shake some of the chaos out of my head. The vague anonymity of it (I mean I know you’re reading and I know you know me, but I don’t see you) has freed me from feeling judged about what I’m writing and I think I’ve done an excellent job of not self-censoring. Ordering and writing down my thoughts here has really helped me with being able to later verbalize feelings and opinions on my health and my situation when I am talking to my friends in real life and I think has actually facilitated me being comfortable being much more open with people in person (therapy has helped with that as well). So even if I am sort of parroting myself in person, I at least am using my own assessments of myself and feeling less confused and more likely to talk about how I’m feeling.
Medication: Clearly it’s been up and down. I think my decision to make the leap to go on medication was the right one. I don’t think it worked for me and I glad to find myself in a place to start trying more natural remedies. However I think there’s a psychological impact of simply having taken the drugs. I feel better. Period. I doubt the SSRIs made me feel better in 8 weeks. Maybe they did, but perhaps just the choice to have taken them, the asking for help and the actively starting to work on my problems is what’s making me feel better. So sort of placebo effect as it were (with terrible side effects). It hasn’t been easy, but I am glad to have the Klonopin and I am glad to know I have other options if I get to feeling where I am not doing as well as I’d hoped.
Relationships: Well, what can I say? I feel confident that my inability to deal with things and see things for what they are (my anxiety and mental illness, basically) caused the demise of my relationship with Oak. I’m sticking by having made those choices in good faith while I was looking for safety and comfort. I feel that at the time Hawthorm was genuinely offering what I thought I needed. I did originally seek help not only for own sanity, but because tiny cracks had started to appear in my relationship with Hawthorn and I thought if I could get better I could save the relationship. Clearly that didn’t matter since Hawthorn had the bad timing to accidentally coincide his break down with mine (or his precipitated mine, or something). Despite their tragic ends, I think both relationships were good for me and I hope both were signs of a continuing trend toward someday having a strong healthy relationship or toward feeling free to not have one at all and still be happy.
Driving: I don’t think I’ve talked about it a lot here, but I used to love driving. Every instance of getting into the car, even to go to the store for milk was an act of freedom, was the possibility that I could just keep driving and go where ever I wanted in the world. I loved the control of it, the power and that raw, open sense of possibility. In the past two years I’ve had one car totaled while I was in it, been pulled out of another at gunpoint and forced to the ground, and stopped 18″ shy of dying in a really horrific accident that happened around me like a tornado but somehow left me unscathed. Even taking an easy, low traffic surface street route to work was becoming cause for increasing panic attacks and incredible tension in my body. I often wanted to cry when I got into and out of the car. Recently I’ve noticed that my confidence is coming back while I drive and I feel much more comfortable and relaxed doing it. I can even feel the sense of freedom and possibility starting to tickle at the back of my brain, like it’s getting ready to come back too.
Moving: I think this is going to be huge for me. It has sort of happened rather more quickly than I had planned, but so far it seems int he realm of doable. Yes, getting my own space to heal and be in is good. On the one had living with Hawthorn post break up hasn’t been a party but it hasn’t been as toxic as it could have been. However, I HATED our house. Of all the ones we looked at I wanted it the least. Hawthorn chose it for the porch, the location and the architectural details. I hated everything about it. Nothing was functional, it was clearly remodeled for looks when it was flipped and not at all for functionality. The landlord is a lazy jerk and repeated dealing with water POURING in from the ceiling, from light sockets, from door jambs and window sills has been severely anxiety inducing all on it’s own. The interior colors actually make me angry in some rooms, the space just doesn’t feel psychically clean, either. I was talking to a coworker (who as far as I know knows nothing about the Hawthorn situation) about moving to my new place today and how it seemed good even though I just moved six months ago. And my coworker commented that she was so glad I was moving because she felt like I hadn’t been well since I moved into that house. And it’s true, my allergies have been awful (as have Hawthorn’s), I can’t sleep for the noise the neighbors make, I fret about the ceiling falling on me, and besides the dust, age and other problems, I’m fairly sure the inside of the walls and airducts are crawling with mold. So here’s hoping that the new place is just healthier all around. It has a new roof–so no leaks, it has a brand new HVAC system and new ducts–no mold or dust, no past or future pets in the house at all to aggravate my already delicate allergies. The only health concern really is that the new landlord has a pest service come once a month and I don’t know what kind of chemicals they use. However since the trade off is no mice, no poisonous spiders and no roaches, I’m very willing to take it as a risk.
Body health: So far I am failing in this category. I’m giving myself a pass because there has been so much stuff going on (all my recovery efforts plus the unplanned break up and moving additions) that it’s been hard to add even more to it. I have been walking more and doing a little yoga. My future plans include much, much more exercise: walking, swimming and yoga and maybe hula-hooping? I really need to make a physical therapy appointment and get going on that. Just, you know, time and planning &c. I am probably going to wait on the PT until moving is done. I will get going on the exercise thing definitely (the community center and neighborhood gym is three block from my new place, no excuses). I will try not to beat myself up on this and rather congratulate myself as I get going with it. I know it will help so much to have less pain in my body. I know it will help my mental health so much just to get the exercise. I know it will help my outlook to look and feel better. I could only just get so many duck in a row at once and I’m still herding these little wild running exercise and body health ducks.
I think once the chaos of moving dies down I am going to start working devoting a (certainly boring) paragraph of each of these entries to details sleep, exercise, panic attacks and the like, just so I’m keep better track of it and little more accountable for it. Seems sensible, yeah?
Astrology: While I give only limited value to astrology, and at that only as a descriptor not as a predictor, Free Will Astrology has always done wonders for me. Even if it is just words that tell me how to frame my current thinking, it’s helpful. This week for me we have: Taurus Horoscope for week of February 3, 2011 — I’ve found that even when people are successful in dealing with a long-term, intractable problem, they rarely zap it out of existence in one epic swoop. Generally they chip away at it, dismantling it little by little; they gradually break its hold with incremental bursts of unspectacular heroism. Judging from the astrological omens, though, I’d say that you Tauruses are ripe for a large surge of dismantling. An obstacle you’ve been hammering away at for months or even years may be primed to crumble dramatically. Yeah, I’m definitely feeling this! Thanks, Rob Brezsny! I will also continue to consult my father, who is an astrologer, about things like this Saturn transit of my Fourth House, as I’ve said, I feel like it gives me a framework to work in and understand things and I’m glad to have that.
The littlest apartment in the world is quite little, but I think would be perfect for me. I’m patiently (and by that I’m mean I’m spasticly and anxiously) waiting to hear if the apartment’s owner thinks I’m as great as I think he is. It seems like it would be a good situation for me and snug little space. I also found the most perfect little couch this weekend and now I’m just hoping for a call with good news and keys so I can measure for couches. SIGH. Waiting is hard.
It was a good weekend though. I dragged a hungover Violet out shopping all over on Saturday. Then I went a toured the cutie little apartment and filled out the background check stuff. After I went to the house of O and sat with my favorite baby on my lap while she zipped and unzipped my purse and took everything out and put it back in over and over. Which was tiring work so eventually she went to bed. Had a lovely time socializing with her parents and some other friends after.
I feel like I really spoke openly about my situation with my friends. A close friend, Rowan, expressed that he felt I’d been unhappy and that he (Rowan) hadn’t ever really been satisfied with the Oak-Hawthorn switch. But somehow he managed to say all of this in a way that didn’t insult or offend me and sounded both supportive and friendly. Rowan managed to make me feel really good about where I am now, or rather really good about the future and the work I’m doing to get somewhere great. It was definitely the kind of friendly interaction that I really needed but didn’t know it until it happened.
Sunday morning I drank coffee on the porch in the sunshine, made fancy breakfast and then Hawthorn and I went for a walk in the park. It was nice. Mostly I talked about my impending move and the excitement of redecorating and having my own space. He talked about some ongoing financial issues with his exwife. Two things that are important, I think, happened in this conversation. First at one point he said something about not wanting to make something my problem (he was asking me read an email to his exwife to make sure it sound fair, reasonable and not mean) and I told him that at this point he was either going to have to decided that were friends and there wasn’t any problem of his that I wouldn’t listen too or he had to decide not to tell me anything and we wouldn’t come out of this being friends. The second thing was that I expressed again that I wasn’t trying to financially fuck him by moving out sooner rather than later. Hawthorn said that I wasn’t doing anything but living my life and any and all the problems of this situation and leading up to it where entirely his own creation and his own burden to deal with.
Of course I’m still mad at him. I imagine at least a year before the strain of this disappears if we remain friend. But I feel more sympathy for him. Not, you know, enough to stay and financially help him or anything. I’m definitely getting on with my life. It just was a couple conversations that were sort of wistfully sad in strange way and yet somehow strengthened a vague feeling that I’ve had that I’ll come out of this still having a friend and eventually feeling like I’ve only lost time, and hopefully gained something else.
I told Rowan last night that because of everything going on inside me I was going to break down sooner or later no matter what. And that in some ways it’s better that it happened in this way, where I can crawl out and have only injured my friendship with Oak and not destroyed it as I may have if we’d stayed together and I’d broken down then. That somehow this was all sucky and horrible and seemingly ill-timed, but perhaps it happened in the right way, was the catalyst I needed to restart my life. I can almost say for certain that in the long run the break up with Hawthorn will feel like a glancing blow. If it had been a disastrous end with Oak it would have been a shattering blow in it self, not just a complication to my own internal fracturing. Obviously it’s all could-have-beens but I’m definitely feeling much more like I can pull it together and start over much sooner than I thought I would.
I had a nice, helpful, supportive and insightful phone conversation with my mom today too. Will wonders never cease?
It was a good weekend. Think good, hopefully thoughts for me for this apartment. If I could get moved in by March 1st it would be a much better situation for me over all. Plus I don’t want to look for another apartment, it’s to much work!
Blue Star Chickadee 