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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.

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Ugh. I feel wrecked and overwrought. I think I would feel better if I was taking the time to dilligently and thoughtfully write here, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards right now. In moving week you prep for moving, plan for moving, freak about moving, relax and let it go, freak again, prep some more, do some more, blah blah blah. And I feel this way after having paid someone to come pack everything! (Seriously all I have left to deal with really is clothes, toiletries and a handful of kitchen things and framed pictures. Hooray!)

Therapy is weird right now. I feel like maybe my therapist isn’t convinced I need therapy because I seem to be doing okay, so I spent today trying to explain that I simply cannot do the deep emotional work I need to until I get moved and get through this part. I just can not rip open those wounds until I have a safe place to go lick them after. And then I tried to explain about how everything has been back to back to back to back to back for the last couple years and I need therapy but I need to just talk and be calm in a safe place too. I don’t know. It was good, I think, but weird.

Then I came home and was PISSED OFF at Hawthorn. I can’t say exactly (yet) but basically he told me something at work (last week) that was unprofessional for him to tell me, he shouldn’t have told me and I wish I didn’t know. It’s been seriously stressing me out. So after packing was done tonight I told him that he owed me and apology and that he’d seriously fucked up. He said he didn’t know what say except sorry and I said that was enough. We both went about our business and later he came back and told me that I was very right to demand that apology and I surely deserved it and he suspected there were a few more apologies he probably owed me. I said that for now understanding that apology was enough and we’d worry about the rest later. So that was good.

I have nothing in my head, it feels like that isn’t moving or decorating related. I’m tired and I’ve definitely been over taxing myself. Still taking the St. John’s Wort and I think I’m going to start adding the 5-HTP back in as that really was helping with sleep before all this medication hoopla.

Oak is moving back to town the day after I move into my new apartment. I don’t think I’ve at all processed what this means to me or what it will be like to have him here. I feel like I really need him as friend right now but I can easily cross a line with him where he thinks I’m asking for too much, or he misunderstands my intentions.  I suspect it’ll be wobbly for a while

I had a pretty good weekend, although it says something about my mental state that the high point was discovering that a mini/half-size pair of pants I made (an experimental design for baby pants but made very small) fit my teddy bear from childhood. Then I took a picture of my teddy bear wearing pants and sent it to my mother. Also the pants the bear used to wear fit my hippo so now everyone has pants. This development is way more interesting to me right now than my emotional problems.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Have a picture of a puppy.

The weather is seriously wearing on me. It took forever to get home tonight, snow was falling fast and heavy and people were driving like idiots. I get it, we shouldn’t get much snow in the South, and nobody here can drive anyway, but, yeah, wearing me down. I’ve been mostly keeping busy. Painting furniture, preparing to move, working. Blah blah blah. I’m feeling okay in general, I guess. I need more focus. No, I need, uh. Well maybe I need to focus less. It has only been two days, but I have been taking my therapist’s words to heart and trying to be more in the moment. At least for some moments. At least so I can see the amazing sunrise I saw today and not forget it. At least so I notice how delicious the dinner I made tonight really was. Still I find myself without any real long term plans for the future, and yet mostly focusing on next week, on the week after, like whatever happens some time in the future will make me happy, or, fix something, or, I don’t know, just be different.  And I guess it will be different, but what if I’m still thinking like this after I’ve moved out of Hawthorn’s house? And yet, I feel like I just have too much going on. Like, maybe I’m not waiting for something to happen, but waiting for things to slow down? The last two years feel like they’ve been this endless collision of back to back to back to back to back things, bad things, good things, hard things, confusing things, frightening things, things, things, things. So I am looking forward to moving, but perhaps so I can finally have a calm place to just be. Is it a paradox that I’m waiting for this thing to happen in the future so that I can stop waiting for the future?

I guess, really, that I’m just tired. I’m tired and I want to go home. I’m tired of having places to live and not feeling like I’m home. I just want the next part to start now, it’s okay to be waiting for it and not in the moment, because it is going to be better, because I am going to make it home.

I have spent seemingly every spare minute in the last few days either shopping for, planning for, measuring, or carrying things to the new apartment.  I’m exhausted, ya’ll.  I stayed home sick from work yesterday for the first time since this all started.  Tuesday night I had panic attacks, diarrhea and a terribly heavy period.  I got no sleep and opted out of work.  I’m glad I did too because I was barely mentally or emotionally functional when I got home late Tuesday evening, even before all the badness started.

I was thinking then that I needed to be careful still with my own self care.  I am feeling better.  I swear the two sunny warm days went a long way towards that.  And even with the work and money it’s taking, moving is helping too.  It gives me something to focus on and be excited about.  But still, I am a long way from being better.  In therapy on Monday when we started to touch on the deeper part of my problem with asking people for help I could sort of see the long painful future of digging this out and making myself whole.  I have definitely overcome the first high hurdle of asking for help, from my therapist, from my family, from my friends.  I think I am dealing well with either recovering from, or sidelining to deal with later, the break-up stuff.  I think I have made a mental space for myself that is safe and is about moving forward and healing and growing.  And I feel really, positive about all of  it.

However, I need to keep reminding myself that my emotional reserves are still at 0% and that some things are still taxing for me physically.  Just because I’m sitting in a sunny meadow and can see a clear path ahead doesn’t mean I am out of the woods.

Normally I’d take on moving as a herculean task that required my monitoring and management at all times and required as little help as possible, but this time I’ve asked for as much help as I can get.  For people to come pack for me, and help me do things.  I’m hoping to make it as stressless as moving can possibly be.  I’m trying to focus the worry away and keep my eye on the space I’m creating and how warm and safe it will be.  I’ve been successful in this thinking, but still I feel almost as if I need a little fairy on my shoulder reminding me to breathe and slow down and that it’s okay to take some time and cry or just rest.

Last night I started the St. John’s Wort in place of the SSRIs.  No comment on it yet except I seemed not to ave stomach upset or insomnia, so that’s a vast improvement.  We’ll see how it goes along.  I’m being better about my regular schedule for vitamins and fish oil too, so hopefully that combination will prove to be helpful.

I have cramps so bad that I feel like I might die.  My period was 12 days late and it feels like 12 extra periods worth of cramps.  The lady at Target cheerfully told me to have a nice day.  I just looked at her balefully as I walked out clutching 3 boxes of tampons, a box of pads and bottle of ibuprofen. Gah.

So I signed a lease yesterday on my own small apartment.  Now I can redirect all the energy devoted to being anxious, depressed or otherwise upset toward freaking out over getting packed and getting moved.  To my own space, which I am very excited about.

Therapy yesterday started with cheerful glee over getting the apartment (I found out about ten minutes before therapy) and then we talked a lot about Hawthorn.  I mentioned a few days ago that I have gotten over any guilt I might have and am pleased that he seems to be owning the consequences of his actions.  He has been very supportive of my move and of finding this apartment even though it’s detrimental to his financial situation.  I was really prepared to stay in our house through April if that’s what it took to find a good place, but now, having found a place, I think I will heal much faster from this situation than I otherwise would.

Calantha came over for a celebratory glass of wine last night and a catch up evening of girl talk.  She said I seemed really balanced and reasonable about the whole Hawthorn situation.  And I guess I am.  Don’t mistake me, I am still mad as hell that it came to this point.  I am hurt and while I am functional there is certainly a lingering sense of rejection, of being abandoned, of even being discarded.  I think once I’m settled in my own space and don’t have to be confronted daily with his (very much) unintentional slights, then I can start to work on my other stuff and maybe even eventually repair my friendship with Hawthorn.

After I felt resolved with the Hawthorn situation in relation to therapy we talked for a while about what I want out of therapy and I totally broke down over my utter inability to ask for help when I need it most.  I guess next week we are going to delve deep into recreating the feeling black hideous dread that consumes me when I find myself in that situation. Sounds fun.  No really, I can’t wait at all.  But I need to get past the things that are blocking me from talking openly, from asking for help, from feeling comfortable in situations I should be fine in, so this is good.  This good. This is good.  Therapy is good.

Overall though, I do feel mucho better-o, despite cramps of doom.  No more SSRIs.  I feel more upbeat and like myself over all.  I’m trying to keep it slow and in relaxation/recovery mode as much as I can still.  I’m waiting a few days for the SSRIs to clear my system and then I’m switching to an herbal anti-stress remedy (no, not pot) and St. John’s Wort to help keep my mood stabilized over the next couple months.  I’m curious about how this will feel and work, but I am definitely feeling good about the prospects for it.  Panic attacks have certainly lessened, although aren’t gone and there is this weird looming sense of anxiety just out of sight when I turn my head.  But I feel like I’m a good way toward shaking off the black depression parts, and the bloody nightmare stories in my head.  I don’t know that necessarily feel more stable, but I feel more capable and the possibility of feeling normal does appear to be just over that hill, if still out of sight.

I worked roughly from 6:30 am to 2 am yesterday at both my jobs, with only a two hour break in between.  Both jobs were relatively intense.  And that’s pretty much all I have to say about my day except that Hawthorn very slightly slighted me at the end of the day and pretty much ruined my day.  Meaning that even exhausted and desperate for sleep I got to stay up and think about why my feelings were so hurt over something so seemingly minor. And yet again we get to play a round of Hawthorn is selfish, insensitive, and thoughtless.  I’m still not over that.  And probably I never will be.  But I am TIRED of replaying that story of our past in which I own all my decisions about how we ended up together, all my choices.  But you know he worked really, really obsessively hard to help me decide to take all the paths that led to me giving up everything thing about my life and all of my plans for the future.  And then of course he ripped all that out from under me when he broke up with me.  Blah blah blah blah, I am tired of it, just had to sit through another teary evening of mentally rehashing it.  Grrrrrrrr.

Going today to have lunch with Violet and walk outside in sun and warmer weather (wheeeeee). And hit up World Market and maybe a thrift store.  Since I have to start thinking about furniture and curtains and such. Because I am going to look at a seemingly PERFECT apartment tomorrow morning.  I have my financial ducks in a row, so I can write a check right away if it works out.  Neighborhood is good, place looks crazy cute in pictures and the price is exactly what I’d hoped to pay, so keep your fingers crossed for me that it works out!  I found it by accident and things feel like they are RUSHING along, but sometimes the universe just gives you what you need right?

Okay, maybe it isn't quite this cool, but it could be!

Speaking of need, my favorite rich, generous customer came into the restaurant last night.  Have you ever had someone shake a $100 bill into your hand? After they’ve paid their bill and already generously tipped?  I think he does it as his own form of charity, but man I work in bar that serves $7 glasses of wine at the high end.  I will take his charity (also I know he really likes me, his wife made me a scarf a couple years ago!) gladly right now.  I’ve set it aside to buy something perfect and MINE for my new place when I get it (which with any luck at all will be soooooooon).

Off to cure my headache with Bún thịt nướng and girl talk and sunshine!

Thank you, my dear friends, for all your out pourings of love in email over the weekend.  I will reply in time and in kind. You all make me feel more normal, happier and glad to have shared with you.  I had a rough bit of it this weekend.  Work sort of forced me out to be more social than I wanted. Hmm, no, I do want to be social, rather I was forced to face a lot of acquaintances and explain the situation with Hawthorn.  Which by itself is fine, I just find most people’s responses to be fairly intolerable.

Overall I feel well liked and people have been very sympathetic.  And I do appreciate that very much.  However so many people thoughtlessly say things that cause me to have to defend Hawthorn and his choices, which really is a position I don’t want to have to take right now.  And people thoughtlessly say things that unintentionally make me feel bad about myself or the choices I’ve made.  I know everyone means well, but saying things like, “He’s just a girl stealer, I knew from the beginning, I just didn’t want to tell you for fear of hurting your feelings,” doesn’t make me feel better.  It makes me think you think I was duped and that I’m an idiot and that I can’t tell the difference between someone scamming me and someone who genuinely likes me.  A lovely friend commented here about honoring choices that were made in good faith.  This is perfect wording.  I stand by my choice to move in with Hawthorn because I made it in good faith. And, despite everything, I think his initial choices were made in good faith as well.  He just wasn’t as ready for this as he thought he was.  But again, I’m still angry, so I don’t like being pushed into a rhetorical corner where I feel like I have to defend him.

And for the most part friends I saw were, if anything, overly cautious and gentle with my feelings, so I shouldn’t be complaining.  I do feel a little like I should print up a t-shirt or a card to hand to people to something.  I think it would say: Yes, we broke up.  No, I’m fine. Yes, it really is as amicable as these things can be.  Yes, I will need to find a new place to live.  No, I don’t want to stay in your guest room in the interim.  No, I don’t need anything right now.  Yes, I swear I’ll call you if I do.

This is the path I've been taking to get where ever it is that I'm going. I think in the future the Hawthorn situation will either be an oxbow lake or a short cut I couldn't have known I needed to take.

I did spend a good part of the weekend sorting, organizing and planning things. The terrifying and amazing part of all this is getting to completely rebuild my life.  I really don’t think I can stand to have roommate, despite my fears around being home alone.  I am confident right now that I can find a place I can afford on my own that I will feel safe in.  I fell asleep last night imagining a place that had only my pictures on the walls, that has only things in it that I want.  I will never be a minimalist, nor truly aspire to it, but I have working hard for a few years now on paring my life down to essentials (my essentials are probably grander and more numerous than some other people’s) and this gives me a chance to really think about it, since basically at this point I own my (vast) sewing set up, my bed, dresser, wardrobe, desk, some shelves, a few plates, a sauce pan and chef’s knife. Oh, and a coffee table.  So I will need to acquire many kitchen items and places to sit when I move.  But I have time to dream about how simple and lovely that could be when it’s all in my own space and only my things that I want to have.  I am definitely feel positive about this, even with the heavy stresses of finding a place and actually moving.  I the idea of a place free of anyone’s clutter but my own is rapidly becoming very appealing.

I started watching the new BBC Sherlock Holmes this weekend (with Hawthorn–we’ve been keeping up our routine of spending an evening or two a week having dinner and watching something together and I think that’s really helped keep things much more civil) and there’s a part in the beginning where Watson’s therapist tells him to work on his blog every day and record everything that happens to him as she assures him it will help.  Thank you, campy BBC TV show for validating me!  I laughed out loud!

I spent some time over the weekend reading about, meditating on and talking about medications.  I’m going to talk to my therapist today about having her, my mom, Hawthorn, a friend in town (and you all, of course) monitor me rather than taking the SSRIs.  I feel about 120% better since I started halving the dose on the Lexapro.  My current plan is 4 more days on the halved dose and then 4 days on a quarter dose and then no more.  I have worked out a weekly exercise plan with Violet and with Hawthorn and on my own at home (my bedroom is big enough to hula hoop in).  I understand the risk of dependency with the Klonopin, but really I don’t think I’m taking it to excess and man, oh man, it really does make me feel better.  So I’m hoping that exercise (which will include getting out to see people, at least Violet) and therapy and my developing positive outlook and the occasional Klonopin to stave off the panicky moments will be enough to get me through right now.  I will pay close attention to how I feel and hopefully with everyone else paying attention, if I really need psycotropic drugs someone will step in and help guide me back to that.  But right now I think it’s making me feel worse, definitely physically, I don’t know that the benefit of long term chemical changes that I don’t really understand are worth it to me right now.  As always I reserve the right to change my mind at any time and I could be wrong about this, but I’m really hoping that therapy of a variety of kinds and having something to look forward to (my own sanctuary) will get me through the immediate parts of this and hopefully send me out stronger and healthier on the other end.

Work was slow yesterday afternoon so I thought I’d just take a peaking at rental listings in my neighborhood.  GAH! Instead of entertainment I gave myself a full blown panic attack.  Holy shit, ya’ll, I’m going to have to move. Again. And find a place, by myself.  Ack.  I came home, took a Klonopin (whew), turned on the TV and sat down and carefully laid out my income and expenditures for January at www.budgetsimple.com.  I think if I can manage to keep this up for Feb and March, I’ll feel much more in control about this.  Plus, if I can keep it together long enough to stay here through March, touring season will start and many semi-transient musicians will be leaving places I could live (and college students as well, although there aren’t very many of those in my neighborhood).  Then my only concern will be that I don’t own anything to sit on except an office chair.  I can do this.  *deep breaths*  I can do this.  I am glad, however that I didn’t let myself get bullied into moving right away, and that, as annoying as it will be, Hawthorn will let me stay here for a while.  I also have a few things I need to sell.  Not in a desperate kind of way, but things I just really don’t need and might be able to make enough money off of to buy something to sit on when I move.

Why can I not have this house?  I mean sure I’d have to be rich and live in Belgium, but look at it:

click it to see all its gloriousness

 

I did manage to calm myself down a bit but PMS left me feeling lonely, miserable and vulnerable and watching TV wasn’t enough of a distraction.  After a slightly frustrating text exchange, I ended up on the phone with Oak discussing the nature of loneliness, his need to find a job and what he looking for, trying to make him understand the even comparison between my home search and his work search (and his soon impending home search as he’s moving back here in 4 weeks, hence the work search). Oak, like my mother, wants me to move out as soon as possible, though he’s being slightly more understanding about why I won’t.  I suspect they both share the motivation (identified by Wisteria) of wanting to punish Hawthorn, at least financially (Oak at one point in the conversation encouraged me to turn heat up, since Hawthorn pays that bill–ironically I am always turning down the heat the Hawthorn turns up because I am an armchair environmentalist). The call ended with Oak wishing he could make me feel better and me expressing that he had, indeed at least distracted me from sitting around alone feeling sorry for myself.

Last night was the first halved dose of Lexapro.  This morning’s side effects so far seem, well, halved.  I am tempted to taper from half to a quarter and off and go back and ask for something else.  I really am trying to be a positive participant in drug therapy but the fact is I haven’t had a day without some stomach discomfort (from moderate to terrible) or some spaciness or dizziness in over three weeks.  I know most anything will have side effects, but at this point I feel I’d gladly try a third or fourth option that made me sweat too much or made my mouth dry rather than continuing to feel queasy and gross.  The Lexapro was better, since it lacked the outright nausea and shaky hands and all, but still I just don’t feel right.  I will do the halved dose through the weekend, but if I don’t wake up Tuesday morning feeling okay, I’m going right back and starting over, I guess.

I dreamt last night that Hawthorn was a robot and the letter of his name were an acronym for the project he was created under.  When I told him this morning, he laughed and said he could see how I’d think that and then hugged me for a while a kissed the top of my head.  Proving, I guess, Oak’s comment that by staying with Hawthorn and depending on his kindness  have somehow changed my status from girlfriend to favored niece.  Still I imagine the situation could be much worse.

I also had a complicated dream that I can’t quite describe that involved attendance at an over the top wedding a trip over seas to an Asian country to visit Adam from Mythbusters and subsequently marrying him.  And then taking up with Jamie from the show when it didn’t work out and I found myself trapped in a foreign country.  It might be hard to explain why, but this is an obvious Hawthorn/Oak metaphor for me, but in reverse and played out with some message that I probably already know, but don’t want to think about just quite yet.

Ten millions years ago, when I got married, I was standing in a small dressing room alone.  Big puffy white dress on, hair all done up, gloves, fancy make-up, 200 guests waiting to participate passively in a momentary expression of love.  All I could think about in that moment was what Rose has said to me several days before: “You’re only getting married because you said when you were 14 that were going to marry him and you’re so stubborn that you have to follow through.” (Not perhaps verbatim what she said, but pretty close.)

I was thinking about those words because I knew as I stood there that I probably shouldn’t be getting married.   Maybe not to this man. Or maybe just not this young.  Or maybe just not.  But I was all dressed up and everyone was there.  And I am stubborn, but often that means I can make things work.  And how hard can marriage be if one commits to it?  I could do this.

Four years later, my parents were bailing me out financially and helping me re-establish my life after we filed for divorce.  This would not be the last time they had to bail me out of such a situation (including my current impending move from Hawthorn’s to where ever I end up).

In some weird way I feel like I’ve been standing in that small dressing room of 15 years ago for all of 2010.  There’s been some sense of doubt in my mind every step along the way, and yet I’ve plodded forward anyway.  I started thinking yesterday about what I should have done, but cut myself off pretty quickly.  What difference does it make now? What is important is what I do from here on out, right?  Still I have this overwhelming sense that I continuously chose the path of least resistance through out 2010 convinced that I could make it work out alright. And hey, I’m not dead, so presumably it will work out alright, just in a different way.

I think therapy was good yesterday.  I cried a lot about Hawthorn making his clean break, then realized that was the first I’d cried about it to anyone, though in my defense I did tell almost everyone by email or text message which is less emotional (and thus my preferred communication).   I don’t know that there were huge revelations in therapy yesterday but I did realize that after Oak and split I stopped making plans.  I mean I’ve always had some sort of vague plan, possible map for the future and I haven’t had that in nearly a year. Surely that goes a long way toward explaining why I’ve felt so untethered.  And right now I feel scattered and confused and still anxious but I definitely need to start making a plan.  I will do it slowly, and I will do it with counsel and support from friends as I’m not sure I trust my choices when left to my own devices right now (a very hard thing for me to admit).

The first thing I need to do is figure out where I am going to live.  Hawthorn and I had a serious talk last night.  I expressed my need to KNOW that I had secure place to live there until I found something else.  He seemed dismayed that I didn’t trust his previous assurance that I could stay through August, but I pointed out that he’d already made a serious one-eighty in relation to me and that I didn’t think I could take another one and still manage to get better.  He said he hadn’t become a bad guy, that everything was still the same, just we weren’t romantically entwined in the long term.  And yeah, I guess he isn’t a bad guy, just insanely selfish and certainly a disappointment.

We have agreed that I could stay through August but probably will try and move around April 1 or May 1. I had some pressure yesterday from friends and family to move right away and honestly I just can not face that.  I mean even if someone else did the moving for me, I just don’t think I feel safe living alone right now. And despite all his other disappointing characteristics I am certain that Hawthorn will still look out for me and chase away things in the dark.  Ultimately however (in a couple months) I think my choice will be to live alone.  In addition to needing someone in the house right now, I also would really like to have the time to find a place to live that I want to be in, that I like, that I feel comfortable in, that isn’t just the first thing available in my price range.  My therapist set me to slowly making a list of what I would need in a home to feel safe, comfortable, and, well, at home.

The Lexapro continues to be okay.  It’s not without side effects but I think it’s within the realm of tolerable so I guess I’m going to fill the prescription after I talk to my doctor today (she gave me samples before).  Today might be the day I skip the Klonopin and try the Skelaxin again as the muscle tension is pretty unbearable.  My lovely friend Moonflower called yesterday and offered to come help me set up a restorative yoga practice at home (she’s a brilliant teacher of yoga), which will hopefully help a lot as well.  I am going to ask Violet to help me overcome my new place anxiety and go walk the track at the community center so I have that as an option on dark cold evenings.

And that’s it for me for plans for now. Yoga plan.  Walking plan.  Thinking about what I need in a home.  It’s a good start, right?

I dreamt about Oak last night.  I have been having very uneven tense dreams lately. For years most of my stress dreams have revolved around moving.  Like most folks have the naked in public dream, or the I’m at the final and realize I never attended any classes dream.  For me it’s always moving day and I haven’t packed and it’s raining and the truck isn’t there. After so much discussion of it yesterday I fully expected to spend the night trying to fit things in not enough boxes in my dreams.  But no, it was Oak instead. No story, no stress, just the physicality of him. How it feels to touch him, to smell him, to feel the heat of his skin.  I woke up  half expecting to find him in my bed and feeling a deep sense of loss.

I am absolving myself of all decision making this week.  I have had my mom and a couple friends already (unintentionally) pressuring me about moving right away. And wow, I can not face moving right now.  Honestly I have two full, completely private, completely mine, rooms in my house with Hawthorn. Yes the situation sucks, but it’s not like we’re stuck in a one bedroom apartment or anything.  Thus far he is going WAY out of his way to compensate for his shitty shortcomings.  Obviously I could change my mind any minute on this, but currently I feel safer and less stressed about the idea of staying than I do about moving.

I talked to Oak last night about the situation for a while. He voiced his frustration that he feels that Hawthorn actively and aggressively pursued me and pressured and promised me the moon to move in with him.  And now is rather blasé about saying oh, I don’t want to be in a relationship. Oak felt it would be one thing if I had been the pursuer rather than the pursued, but that currently Hawthorn’s actions are incredibly selfish and disingenuous given how much other people’s (mine, Oak’s) lives have been affected by the course Hawthorn chose.  And right now, I think this is what upsets me the most about the situation; he’s being selfish at a time when things should be all about me! (Ha, I know, right?)

I am trying hard to own my choices and the decisions I made. I generally can acknowledge and be responsible for my own mistakes. But I don’t know if I can say it was a mistake to choose Hawthorn and move in with him.  At least not given the information I had at the time.  I was simply trying to find a safe easy place to fit into the world.  I assume the universe is telling me that that wasn’t the place I was supposed to be and now I have to find the place I am supposed to be.

I also dislike the idea of hurriedly packing up and moving into the first vaguely adequate place I can find.  I want to find some place that I want to be, that I’m comfortable in, that doesn’t feel like a place to just park my stuff. But again not making any decisions right now.  I have support, friends and places to go if I need too.  I just don’t think I need to go just quite yet.

Where do I find one of these?

On the drug front, the Lexapro so far is WAY better than the Zoloft.  Side effects so far seem to be occasional lightheadedness and mild somnolence (which isn’t necessarily bad for someone with insomnia).  And maybe it’s starting to make me feel better?  Maybe it’s too early to tell and just the lack of side effects and the hope that it will help is what I’m feeling.  Panic attacks and sense of hysterical fear are WAY down, but that could easily be the judicious application Klonopin at the first sign of such.  Still, given everything, I some sense that I’m starting to feel a little more steady, more functional and a little less on autopilot.

Last night I told Oak that it some ways, not excusing my choices or my responsibility for where I am, still it seemed almost like I’ve been living someone else’s life for the last twelve months. Like somewhere around Feb 2010 things just got way off track and I didn’t even notice until I was so far from ‘home’ that I couldn’t find my way back.   I have in the last few months been having the unsettling sensation that I’m losing pieces of myself, like I’ve just become a shell that needs to be filled back up.  Or perhaps it’s more that parts of me that I identified as my sense of self are somehow getting walled up in the the past and I haven’t moved far enough forward to clarify for myself the sense of my new evolved identity.  I believe this is in line with Saturn transiting my 4th house.  I was thinking this morning about how this particular transit is about self identity and security and if you don’t heed the need for growth here that the universe will kick your ass.  I think the universe just kicked my ass.

Have a therapy appointment this afternoon.  Will probably scrap what I’d intended to talk about about and focus on how sound she thinks my decision making is right now and what I need to do to have the space and emotional tools I need to plan my life.  Since the all the future plans I’ve made in the last two years are now entirely off the table. And yes, I can go anywhere, do anything, but what, exactly is that?