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So yesterday, after my whining here, Hawthorn asked if I was mad at him.  I told him, quite clearly that I hated being asked multiple time for anything, that his refusal of initial ‘no’ in any circumstance was invalidating of my choices and that he’d already taken enough of my choices away by breaking up with me.  I told him that I reserved the right to be mad at him whenever I wanted over anything I wanted because I was still hurt and within the bounds of responding however I felt I wanted too.  I told him that he needed to take me less for granted, remember that I wasn’t his girlfriend and acknowledge how good and generous I’d been through the months following our break up.

He apologized, but I’m not sure how much of it was him understanding why I was mad and how much of it was the “I’m sorry you’re mad at me” apology which I loathe, as it leaves me feeling less understood and in a position where the offender is sure to re-commit the crime.  Still After spending too much of the day trying not to cry at my desk, I’d softened up ad let go of most of it by the evening.  Which I spent assembling furniture, cooking, cleaning, watching TV and writing letters.  A nice calm evening, which would only have been better if I’d figured out to turn on the A/C before it got swelteringly hot in my house.

I’m very tired of the rollercoaster of emotions in regards to Hawthorn.  I get it, it’s actually reasonable, it will surely be tempered and toned down with time.  But I am just so over it.  I would actually like to just move on, though I recognize that I can’t quite yet.  I think I’ve forgiven myself for the choices I made, I think I’ve accepted the consequences of both our choices, but I haven’t forgiven him yet and I’m pretty sure this isn’t over until I do.  I don’t think that’s a release I’m going to get any time soon.  I think I need to really feel he’s accepted responsibility for his actions in regards to me, that he’s genuinely sorry, that really understands the effect it had on me and why his timing was so selfish.  But I don’t feel ready to sit down and specifically have that conversation with him, I don’t know when I will, even if I know I won’t be satisfied until I do.

Probably part of the answer here is to start filling the spaces in my free time and in my head with other people, with other activities.  Still I’m a little stuck in sort of negative cycle in that I want more time to myself, I feel like I still need the relaxing down time/alone time, before I set out to be crazy social again.  And yet taking that time leaves me with little to think about but past events and all the things I’m trying to move on from.  As with every part of this, it comes back to balance, an even amount of down time and new experiences.  Honestly, everything would be easier if I could back to being my usual, patient self.  I feel like I’m too anxious and eager for change that only comes with time and I can’t let go enough to let it come when it will like the first flowers of spring.

 

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I feel better, over all.  It’s STILL grey here.  And in case my theory that I run on sunshine charged batteries needed proving: the sun came out briefly while I Was running errands yesterday, rush hour freeway traffic and all, I INSTANTLY perked up as soon as the sun shined on me.  Yes, I know all about light boxes and about half the lights in my house are “true sunlight” lights, but it seems that only the real thing, really does it.  And early spring is joyous, but not to my sinuses.  I’m getting simultaneous allergy/sinus headaches and storm pressure headaches. Makes me nauseous and no fun.  So more sun and less storms, please.  I’m not even going to complain about the pollen, it’s not worth it.


All that aside I am mostly cheerful today.  Things are making me laugh.  I feel like I have a positive outlook on the future, even if the present continues to feel a little stagnant and the future too vague.  I’ve been contemplating this balance of living in the present moment and planning for the future.  Honestly, I feel a little stuck.  Like for the last, let’s say 2.5 years (starting from about when Oak confirmed he was leaving and everything started to go awry) I have been simply waiting.  I waited for Oak to leave; I waited for Oak to get back; I waited through the flood and the aftermath; I dropped all my future plans (and Oak) and waited for Hawthorn to make new ones with me (he never did which should have been a sign from the beginning); I waited for Hawthorn NOT to break up with me; I waited to get out of Hawthorn’s house. And sure all those things have passed, but I’m still waiting: to furnish my own home, to figure out what comes next, to feel better/normal.  It’s like I can’t remember how to live without waiting.

It’s not like I don’t have things to look forward too, I do.  But most of it is small trips to visit friends (many of which can’t even be planned until my work schedule settles and I spend a few more weekends going broke furnishing my house).  And I’m excited about those things but I need a bigger picture plan.  Like moving to Spain in 5 years, or going back to school to become a an EMT, or learning pattern making for real and setting up a small business sewing.  Not that I will necessarily do any of those things, but there’s something about the planning and thinking about such grandiose plans that keeps the frightening, anxiety inducing vagaries of every day life at bay, you know?

I guess a big part of the problem is that I still feel really scattered from the anxiety and the drugs and the moving and the life changes and nothing seeming settled for so long.  I had a moment, waking up the other day, of how my new place is starting to feel like “mine” not just a place I am, which is nice.  I think getting it furnished will go a long way towards helping me. Still right now it’s adding to the anxiety load: not being able to find anything because it’s in boxes sucks, spending lots of money is stressful, &c.  But it is coming along and the end is somewhat in sight. Still I’m left with the feeling of waiting and the sense that I’m not quite together enough to dig myself out.

Perhaps the weirdest part of it all is that I’ve always considered myself to be a very patient person. I don’t shake Xmas presents, I don’t guess what’s inside.  I am calm, placid even, ready for anything, but happy enough to sit quietly until it’s time for whatever it’s time for.  I don’t know which came first, but either the anxiety broke that in me, or that being broken in me is where the anxiety came from.  I need to get back to that place of patience.  I’m still just not exactly sure where to look.  It seems like I can only wait to get to the place I need to be (settled, moved, planned, whatever) and I can barely stand the idea of waiting even a little more.  I just need to figure out what the more active things I can do to participate in making the future come faster are, so I can enjoy being in the moment more.  Ironic, I know.

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.