Upon Further Reflection

I confess, I don’t always read the comments when I read other people’s blogs. It really just depends on how much time I have at any given moment. Anyway, I clarified a few things in a reply to a comment on my previous post and since I assume that at least a few people share my shameful burden of not always reading the comments, I’m going to repost it here. Because I can and why not. I want all this crap out and over with, you know? I was replying to a person who thought I was sad over him specifically and/or thinking of him.

Oh, I am not particularly interested in how he is. I hope his wife and child are well, and I hope in a vague sort of way that he isn’t crushed by heavy machinery or kidnapped by pirates, or anything ridiculous like that, but in general I don’t spend any significant amount of time actually mooning over (the current reality of) him.

I kind of miss the fake him, or at least the idea of the fake him. Call me stupid and sentimental. Fake him meshed with real me quite nicely. But once I realized, truly internalized, what he did, the cheating on his PREGNANT wife part and the callous disregard for my emotional and mental health part, I realized that the real him is quite simply not a man I want to know. And if real him happened to get a little karmic payback at some point in his future, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. But I’m not wishing for it, either.

My bursts of sadness have more to do with me. I WANT what I thought we had, with someone who is actually deserving of my love and passion. I want that, so much.

I think that last paragraph is the most important point here. And I’ll be the first to admit that it took me a while to figure that out. It’s really only been in the last few days, as I’ve been wondering why on earth I am still experiencing sadness over this, that it finally clicked. It’s about me and what I want from life, from love, from the relationships that I have now, that I may have in the future. Hell, probably ones from the past, too.

I need to figure out what I want out of life. Sounds easy enough, right?!

I Know, I Know . . . I Said I Was Done

WHY, for crying out loud, am I still occasionally experiencing waves of sadness over the loss of a man who, when you get right down to it, proved himself emphatically to NOT be the type of man I would actually want to be with?! My brain is a fully functioning one, and intellectually I am over it, over him. But my emotional side has other ideas, and is apparently having a grand old time gracing me with bouts of weepiness and making me generally achy in the heart region. It is really quite annoying. I mean, if I had to make a list of things that would keep me from getting involved with someone, “cheats on pregnant wife” would be be WAY up there! Really high, and right next to “depraved indifference to the feelings of clueless ‘mistress’ and previously mentioned, cheated-upon, pregnant wife”.

So again, I’m asking . . . what the fuck is wrong with me that I still get sad about this!?!?! I do NOT want this man, or anyone of his ilk. I’m going to plead hormones. Does that make any sense? Or maybe it’s intermittent  bursts of insanity. I don’t know. My cousin’s theory is that he represents something that I wish I had. As in, it’s not him, it’s the idea of him. Which makes as much sense as anything, I suppose. It’s definitely not him specifically, I do know that. At least not anymore. And since he was clearly actively lying to me the entire time we were together, he was also likely lying in regards to his perceived “perfect-for-me” quality. So maybe it’s just as simple as I viewed him as perfect for me, due in whatever parts to both his skills in lying and my need to believe in the existence of a mythical “perfect” man.

Ok, that kind of makes sense. I’m really just still sad over the loss of said mythical, “perfect” man. Ha. Gosh, I feel so much better now!

*sigh*

Broken Hearts and Rainy Days

My heart hurts. I’m not thinking about it, though. Which is a lie. But I’m trying. I was doing really well, but I seem to have regressed a bit. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t such an emotional person. Maybe. I don’t know. I suppose you have to have the lows if you’re going to have the highs. I do love the highs.

I wish that I could turn my brain off sometimes, just to get a moment or two of peace. Beautiful silence. The voices in my head need to shut the fuck up for a bit, they really do. It’s pouring rain, or I’d go sit on top of my mountain. I might do it anyway, and just stay in the car. The view isn’t as spectacular, but it’s still there.

My heart hurts.

Endings And Beginnings

I suppose a small (huge?) confession is in order. I have been in regular contact with his wife. You might remember that she’d written me in early November, after she found this blog and became concerned about my emotional state. And, for whatever reasons, we’ve been writing each other ever since. Up until today, actually. The ending was my doing. I am ready to not think about him anymore, a hard enough thing to do on my own. And I can’t not think about him while being friendly with his wife. Which is unfortunate because we seem to actually like each other, but ultimately it is realistic. We said our goodbyes and we wished each other well. It’s all good.

She talked to me because, as she put it, she gained comfort from doing so since I was the only person who knew what had happened, and because she felt lonely with her pain. I can understand that. I don’t exactly know why I talked to her for so long. I’ve given it some thought, as part of coming to my decision to stop. I like her, as I said, and there’s even a possibility that, had we met under different circumstances, we could have become friends. But that is just an interesting side note, not something that explains why I chose to talk to her.

I don’t know if it matters why, truly. I did want to know if they were able to work things out, and they are currently managing to do so. All the good and decent parts of me are very relieved and happy to know that. I do sometimes wonder if the not-so-nice devil on my shoulder wanted to know that they were back together in order to have extra ammunition to use against me in my ongoing battle with depression and self-esteem. The nasty voices in my head really do enjoy having their way with that sort of thing, pointing out couples who seem to have love and delighting in reminding me that I do not currently have the type of love that I would like to have.

My general tendency is to put other people’s needs ahead of my own, and I felt quite a bit of angst and concern at telling her I needed to move on. I normally just write emails and send them, but I must have rewritten that one five times before I felt it was acceptable to send to her. Now that I have done so, and we have said our goodbyes, I feel a rather strange combination of sad and relieved. I am ready to start trying to move forward, I think. My first appointment with my new therapist is coming up this week, and obviously this whole fiasco will play a large role in what we talk about, at least for a while. But I want to look forward, and I want to think about him less and less every day, until he is a distant memory.

I’ve had quite a time keeping my thoughts focused lately, and I have pretty much lost the thread of where I was going with all this. So I’ll stop writing for now. I don’t like this, not at all. I don’t know what it is indicative of, something worth exploring or maybe just a cumulative lack of sleep? Ugh. I hate not being in control of my own mind.

The Wait Continues

Today, I found out that there won’t be a decision on the job I want until January. Keep in mind that this is a job that I originally applied for in either late September or early October. I’ve honestly forgotten at this point, it’s taking so freaking long. I won’t go into my whole sorry financial life, as I know many people are struggling lately, but suffice it to say that I’m down to the very end of my rope, clinging on by my fingernails and straight up stubbornness. I need this job, that’s really all there is to it. And I feel as though my life is on hold while I am waiting. It is very frustrating. Which is not to say that I haven’t been looking at other options. I have. I’ve applied for so many jobs that I’ve lost count. But so far, nothing. I need this job. It is the best one, it offers the most opportunities, it pays the most money. Come on, universe. Please?

I did discover that there is free counseling available if you are willing to see a masters intern. So I am going to try it out, because you never know. I just want to make sure I am doing everything within my power to keep my head straight over the winter. I can’t afford to lose my grip, and as I’ve mentioned before, winter is a cold and icy bitch that storms into my life once every year and tries to steal my soul. It is hard to deal with winter in a good year, let alone one like this one, full of financial and relationship woes, and general life upheavals. I have an appointment for next week, so we’ll see what happens. I will say that just the simple act of writing, whether it is here on this blog or in my journals, has really helped me lately, but I think I need more. Hopefully this can be my more.

My main concern, emotionally, is that I can feel myself slipping into a numbness, into the lethargy and apathy of depression. I’m actually considering going back on my pills, just for a bit, even though they’ve never been my favorite thing. That is a gross understatement, actually. They smooth out the jagged edges, sure, but they also obliterate the necessary sharpness . . . of wit, of mind, of creativity. I don’t know. I also tend to feel that I shouldn’t need additional assistance, that medicating myself is admitting weakness, or some such bullshit. My typical pattern is to wait until I am literally unable to get out of bed or off the floor and then to seek out help, or have help foisted upon me. But this time is different, because I have a son, who needs me. So I am trying to be proactive. Everything I am doing, I am doing for him.

Life is Too Short

Too, too many thoughts in my brain, all fighting for their moment in the sun. My brain will not stop, EVER, not until I finally am able to fall asleep, and often not even then, I can’t always get my thoughts out. It’s often frustrating.

I’ve learned some additional information about his activities during the time we were together, which is making me question my people-reading skills all over again. Not to mention all the concerns that pop up when I stop and wonder whether it will be safe, wise, remotely possible to trust someone again any time soon. And I’ve spent a bit more time alternating between sad and angry. Always a good time.

I have realized a few things, or at least thought up a few more things to ponder in my never-ending insomnia. Which, just for your information, is my natural state, not something that has occurred after the late unpleasantness. I shun sleep. Until the alarm goes off and I’ve only been asleep for two hours, then I LOVE sleep. But then it is too late, of course.

First thing: I thought I was safe with him, but in reality I was vulnerable. I am feeling vulnerable in hindsight, and feeling vulnerable makes me self-conscious and vaguely uncomfortable, like I’ve forgotten something that will surely embarrass me once I remember what it is. Which I think has something to do with having to accept his mean and hurtful message about having used me. I feel like he might be sitting around having a good laugh at my expense. Which is ridiculous, really, as I doubt he even gives me a passing thought. Also not a self-esteem booster, feeling discarded and used. Oh well. Nothing overly deep there, just a thought that dashed through my brain on its way to wherever random thoughts end up.

Second thing: I am changed, irrevocably. There is no going back. I can not be the person I was before I met him, and I can not be the person I was five minutes before his wife spoke to me for the first time. It ain’t gonna happen, so the wisest thing for me to do would be to focus on making sure the changes that are inevitable are for the better, and don’t lead to bitterness or jadedness.

And, that’s all I’ve got for now. The rest is, as I said, bouncing around inside my brain, causing me angst and unrest but not being kind enough to funnel itself into something helpful like painting or writing, or hell, even into an obsessive burst of housecleaning.

I think I’ll have a glass of amaretto and curl up with a book. In the meantime, here’s an excellent thought to keep in mind when the other stuff is trying to keep you down.

Random Thoughts

Anger is definitely a step forward, or at least I am choosing to view it as such. What will make me the happiest and give me the most hope for the future, though, is the first time I go an entire day without thinking about any aspect of this. Not him, not us. Nothing sad or wistful or angry. Nothing but blissful peace of mind. I’m not there yet. I’d really like to be there.

I’m having a hard time with positive thinking lately, although at least it is not only because of what happened. The holiday period from Thanksgiving to Christmas has always been stressful for me. I’m still not back to exercising, and I’m really starting to feel the lapse. And it’s going to be even longer until I can get back to it, because now I’ve gone and hurt my back. I was in a bad car accident when I was 16, and broke several vertebrae in my lower back. Which was bad, yes, but I recovered just fine and continued on with life. No big deal. It’s just that every once in a while, I move a certain way and something in my back revolts. And it’s always something completely insignificant, never when I’m dancing or hiking or climbing trees with my son. Nope, this time it happened as I got into the car and reached forward to put the key into the ignition. Instant back pain, so much and so sudden that I actually cried out loud. I thought I was going to have to call someone to come and help me, but eventually the spasms stopped and I could drive home. So, while I want to get back to the gym, it’s just not going to happen for at least another week. And that is frustrating to me, because it is very easy for me to lose my momentum and I don’t want to do that. I’ve lost 50 pounds in the last year, and I still have some to go. I don’t want to derail my progress. At any time, but certainly not now, when I’m struggling with depression. Severe depression is what caused me to gain weight in the first place. I don’t want to go there again.

Positive thoughts, then. Let’s see. There’s the job possibility, which I am trying to remain positive about while at the same time not attaching too much importance to it. I don’t want to make it my whole world and have it come crashing down if I do not get it. My son, obviously. That’s a given. What else? That is the problem. At least right this second, I can’t think of anything. No, wait . . . that’s not true. The stars were bright and beautiful last night when we got home, layer upon layer of sparkling light in the midst of inky blackness. That’s one huge benefit to living in the middle of nowhere, when it is dark it is very, very dark, and you can see stars for ever. My son stood in awe for a moment and then he burst out with “Mama! Look Mama, oh so beautiful! Like you, Mama!”

Ahhh, yes. My son thinks I am as beautiful as millions upon millions of stars. I can live with that.

Reclaiming My Own

So many things remind me of him, of us, of what we had, seemed to have, all that. And I’ve been avoiding certain things, thoughts of things, songs, places, and so on, because of that. Because of the feelings evoked, of the pain that shoots through me, because I was weak. I’m still weak, occasionally, momentarily, but overall I am strong and I will prevail. You can’t eat me. You can’t have my soul.

I love this picture, it is one of my favorite pictures of me and my son. And I let it be tainted, because it involved him. But you know what? He can’t have it, it is mine. I love it, my friends love it, and I look damn good in it. I’m taking it back. And that is a start.

Things To Do Today

Finish washing clothes, pack a bag for tonight, get to the post office to pick up my new Kindle, make sure my son has everything he needs for while I’ll be gone, kiss and hug him, kiss and hug him some more, drive to my cousin’s, commence girl time.

Seems simple enough, really. But I seem to be having an anxiety attack instead. I’m cold inside.

Help me, define the light that’s shining on me
to get back what they’ve taken from me
and build a little fire where it’s cold

Show me, the path that leads to all the glory
the words that tell a sacred story
and build a little fire where its cold

I wanna live in a dream in my record machine
I want a piece of the world and every one inside my mouth
cuz all the money I waste, is it a manner of taste
I want a piece of the world and you can’t make me spit it out

Partial lyrics from I Wanna Live In a Dream In My (Record Machine)

Love Is Love

It is a daily battle, hell, a minute by minute battle at times, to regain my positive outlook. I’ve had a general overlying feeling of anxiety today, but while it wasn’t the best day I’ve had since this happened, it also wasn’t the worst. And I guess that is worth something.

So, in a spirit of forward thinking, I’d like to say that I love love. The idea of it, the thrill of it, the possibilities of it. I like being a fool in love, I just do. As hard and painful as this has been, as it still is, for me, I do believe in love and I really do think it is worth taking a chance on. Next time I’ll try to temper it with a little bit of knowledge and, not caution exactly, but maybe some awareness. But I guess I still want there to be a next time, after my wounded heart heals some more, and I am relieved to realize that.

I’m not looking forward to the whole starting over part of things, but hey, baby steps, right?