Help me think I’m somebody else

So I’m still alive.  Just really, really tired.

 

After spending almost a continuous week together I suddenly was away for 5 days and it left me and my new found lover guy separated.  It wasn’t the best timing as I’m apparently the only thing helping him keep things together.

 

He was sent for immediate counselling as soon as he registered with his new Drs and whoever the counsellor was basically ripped open all the wounds he was trying to keep shut so he can function for the time being.  He needs to find a new job and get his life established up here so he hasn’t got the luxury of being able to fall apart for a bit like I did.

 

We ended up on the phone at one point because he had got himself into a state in the way that I do.  In some ways it’s a blessing and a curse that he’s effectively the male version of me.  For a short time I was scared he was going to end things and the idea of the one light I have at the moment disappearing…. it was like I could feel my soul tightening up.

 

The whole (short) time we have been together has made me realise that I’m not used to being loved.  I’m not used to having someone want to do things for me and treat me.  I’m not used to having a guy want to shower me in affection.  I’m trying to get better at accepting it and it’s hard.

 

While I’m sat in my mental headspace with my depression voice telling me ‘he’s going to leave, he doesn’t love you, he’s taking you for a fool’ he’s also sat a couple of miles away with exactly the same thing.

 

We’ve got thrown together so fast but it feels like I’ve known him forever and the logical part of my brain is having a meltdown over it.

 

All I know is that when I’ve seen him I’m not thinking of driving into the crash barrier at 100mph on the way to work anymore.

 

It would be so much easier to be dead.  But then I was watching this amazing band on the weekend after spending the day laughing with friends and I realised that I was nearly not there for this.  Even this moment right now when I’m typing… if I’d actually done what I wanted to do in June then I wouldn’t be here.

 

I’m not saying that things have outweighed that because they haven’t…  I’m still tired, I still hate myself but I suppose the actual continual suicidal thoughts have lessened off.

 

I was stood watching the band, trying to visualise what the time would have been like if I wasn’t there.  Short of the practicality side of me not being there to give a lift to some of my friends, would they actually have noticed the fact I wasn’t there?  Would it have made an impact on their experience…?  I find it hard to believe…

 

I made friends with a lady while I was there that was just starting off into a new relationship too and she was just as scared as I was.  She couldn’t see why he would find anything redeeming or attractive about her just like I can’t see it in relation to me.  I think part of me feels like he’s just after the security I can give him because there’s no other reason he’d possibly like me.

 

I’ve seen photos of myself at the weekend and I just… I can’t describe how much I hate myself.  I spent the whole time trying to hide from the camera and throw things in front of my face.  It reminds me of the time that a group of my friends were doing ‘fugly’ selfies as a joke and they got angry with me because I wouldn’t do it.  I wouldn’t do it because I always feel like that, I don’t need any extra help.

 

The job that I went for have asked me to tell them when I’m free so I can do a teleconference thing but I just wonder if they’re going to turn into another shambles like this job is.  At least it would be a shamble closer to home I suppose.  It would also have the corporate safety blanket involved.

 

I’m so tired I feel like falling asleep at my desk.  I want to sleep but I promised myself I’d start going back to dance class and have told everyone I’m going tonight.  It’s only an hour and hopefully they’ll be easy on me because I’ve said what I’m like.

 

On the weekend some nobs invaded our site and were joking about this D list celebrity who had killed himself and I had to walk away.  People are fucking idiots.  I just wanted to tell them that it’s not funny.  People being pushed to the brink isn’t funny.  Deciding that the best option for the whole planet is for you to be removed from it isn’t hilarious…  I didn’t because I felt disassociated with it because of wanting to shoot myself.  I’m not great at tying knots so hanging didn’t really have that resonance with me… that and a lack of accessible places to try and hang from to do it properly.  Haven’t got the right stair rails…

 

But then if I had… I would never have met Him… I wouldn’t have had 7 orgasms last night and I wouldn’t know that I was capable of experiencing the relationship I’m in right now.

 

My head is such a mess… I feel so fucking lost.  I just want to hide with him.

Cause I’m fucked up, because you are

I had an amazing weekend.  Despite this hitting a number of triggeringly trigger things and despite me crying naked on top of someone…

 

We’ll get to that.

 

On Friday I sat down in my counsellor’s office and said ‘I am a freak.  There is a man trying to get into a loving relationship with me, who tells me that I’m beautiful and whose jaw visibly dropped the first time we went on a date… and it fucking terrifies me and I have no idea how to process it’

 

It fucking upsets me.  What kind of messed up human being am I that can’t cope with being loved?  What does that say about me?  He tells me that he loves me and all I can feel is suspicion.  All I can think is ‘what do you want though?’  I look into his eyes and I don’t see that at all and yet it’s what my head can’t get round.  This roadblock of ‘we got completely used before’.

 

Speaking of which…  The gods are cruel and have a sense of humour…  ‘Let’s go to the pub’ ‘I’m not sure… EX and OTHER BINT go there’ ‘They haven’t been in ages, I asked around’
I went knowing full well that they would be there.  I could have been told that they had moved to the moon and known that they would show up.
They did.

 

The worst thing?  I was sat there and enjoying myself but I was on edge because I KNEW… and then I saw him and I felt fear.  Pure physical fear.  My hands started shaking.  He was never violent towards me, never abusive and never giving me any reason to be SCARED of the bastard… and yet there we were.

 

I’ve been trying to think about it a lot and the only explanation I can think of is that it’s the fear of being hurt again.  The fear of looking into the eyes of someone that I had loved so fucking utterly and completely for seven years and seeing nothing there.  I don’t love him anymore, I have no feelings anymore… except fear apparently.

 

So then I’m sat there, feeling this physical fear and being appalled with myself for it.  How can they instill that in me?  Why the hell am I shaking?  This is bullshit.

 

He looked in my direction, did this half hearted completely fake smile and then disappeared upstairs with her.

 

So we left the pub and walked back while he wished he’d thrown one of the wooden tables at them and I wished that I hadn’t had some horrendous fear reaction I couldn’t understand.

 

I have had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life this weekend… and I’ve also cried on the guy while I was having some of it because of the emotional release.

 

I’ve felt so lonely, so incredibly fucking lonely.  I wanted to die so badly.  The feeling of being unwanted and alone was like a rusty, blunt knife that would carve into me and make me lie on my hall floor crying weakly.  It just backed up the idea that I wasn’t good enough, I was never going to be good enough.  My love wasn’t good enough.
Then this guy comes… and he’s just as damaged as me.  It’s like someone zapped in the male version of me from some other reality.  The issue is we both sit there quietly assuming the worst about the other because of past experience.  He is scared that I’m just using him and I’m scared he’s just using me.  But he tells me that he loves me and I can’t reply back.  I know that I do… but that’s ridiculous (the voice says), I haven’t known him that long so I can’t possibly be in love with him.  He’s just saying it to me (the voice says) because he knows that it will sucker me in.

 

Meanwhile I’m tearing myself up because I can’t say it back.  I physically can’t do it because to me, admitting that I love him is giving him the green flag to go ahead and use me….

 

Which is the fucking sadest, most pitiful thing I ever hope to type.

 

Part of me is so fucking terrified that he’s going to leave and I’m going to be on my own again and I just can’t even cope with the idea.  I can’t cope with the idea of having this and then it disappearing.  I feel like that would be it and there’s no way in the world a relationship can survive under that pressure.  I don’t want to cling but I feel like this is the only fucking glimpse of any light that I’ve seen in the darkness for such a long time.

 

I am so goddamn broken.