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.

Helping/not helping

So less than a week ago I woke up screaming because I’d had some kind of night terror.  I didn’t remember the dream, just the fear and then had that lingering ache all day.  Last night… no I remember the dream and I got woken up screaming again.

 

I know that this is my brain’s way of trying to process a lifetime’s worth of shit but I could do without twice in one week.

 

I know why it’s happening… I’m trying to make sense of my behaviour now by looking at what happened in the past.  So my brain is trying to be helpful and say ‘here you go, we’ll work on it all night for extra credit!  YAY!’ and then I’m having a dream about my ex, the person I thought I was a friend and trying to confront them in a pub full of a mixture of friends and colleagues.

 

Oh and picking the day that I have a job interview so I’ve had no sleep and I’m currently ill.  Extra points for that…

 

In a way I knew what I was in for in the dream.  I was the one who chose to be confrontational rather than sticking to what I’ve been doing in real life and avoiding the pair of them like the plague… not an easy feat when we have so many mutual friends its ridiculous.  I’ve managed though, it’s been nearly a year since I’ve had to see them.

 

In the dream I felt so confident and defiant and then it all just crumbled away when I got faced with an utter lack of remorse and amusement at me even thinking that’s what I’d get.  It finished with what I guess was a death blow in terms of emotional feelings… I should have just glassed the fucker.  We were in a pub in the dream.

 

In reality I know they’re a pair of cowards.  Unfortunately they’re cowards that can’t cope with not being the victim.  The only thing I have with him is that I was such a supportive and caring doormat he didn’t really have much ammo against me or at least that’s what I’ve been told by our millions of mutual friends… back when I asked.

 

My counselor says that I’m allowed to not be 100% ‘over it’ even though mutual friends have told me I should be by now.  Well maybe if I’d been told the truth from the off I’d have been able to process it rather than getting it in installments from people when they’d get pissed at parties and decide to tell me how much they knew was going on.

 

I’m tired and I don’t want to be ill and in a bad mood.  I am going to watch cartoons.

I don’t understand

Am I going crazy?

I feel like I’ve known you forever.  All I want to do is scream at you ‘I have been waiting here’ because that’s how it feels.  I know we’ve been talking for a week, I know that we met for a weekend, I know that you’ve known me before but I don’t remember you (because I’m a twat)…

 

But I don’t trust myself.

 

I’m scared that I feel this way as some sort of reaction to my loneliness.  I’m scared that I feel this way because I want to believe it can be true.

 

I feel like I know you and yet I know that I can’t possibly.

 

We are both so fucking damaged.  We have both been hurt so much by other people.

 

You’re saying all the right things in the right order and I want to run away and hide because I feel like you don’t mean them.  I keep thinking that every time you see how happy you make me you’re ticking a box in your head because you’re a stage further in some sort of master plan.

 

I’m scared that you haven’t processed your damage yet and in six months time you’re going to wake up and decide that now you need space.  And I will be on my own again but so much worse.  Or that you’ll wake up and see that I’m ugly, that I’m needy and fat and have a head that feels like it’s going to explode because of All the Things.  Or I will have mothered you to death without meaning to.

 

I want to tell you that I’ve been sent to help heal you because you’re as weird and screwed up as I am and you might get that.

 

But all these things is like showing my throat.  All these thoughts make me vulnerable and I don’t do that anymore.  Not if I can help it.  Who tells someone these things if they’re scared that they’re going to be used?  It’s like walking into a car showroom and telling the salesman how much you’ve always wanted one of these cars and you’ve just won the lottery.

 

I’m used to being the one who runs off in her head and thinks about how things might be if it works out in the future.  I’m used to having to play the game where you act cool and calm and feel like you’re not bothered if you meet up with that person again or not.
I’m not used to being wanted or wanted so intensely.  I’m not used to this intense ANYTHING.

 

Everyone keeps telling me that I just need to calm down, relax and enjoy things… but my mind is half terrified half overjoyed and I’m flying around between the two.  I don’t want to screw this up because I’m trying to be too cautious and I don’t want to make things burn out because I’ve thrown myself into the fire too quickly.

 

You know more than me and I don’t want to look like an idiot.

 

I feel like wanting to do everything right is going to make everything go wrong.  I was such a fucking uptight teenager.  I didn’t experiment, I didn’t try anything.  I had one boyfriend for less than a month (I think) when I was 13 and then pretty much a relationship drought until I got to my ex.  [So glad that I have never just known one guy… I’ve learnt a lot]

 

I don’t to burden you with my hang ups but how can I explain to you why I am the way that I am without doing it or making it seem like I’m just being difficult?

 

I’m just so fucking sick of hurting.

Maelstrom in my mind

I don’t like feeling out of control which will amuse anyone who read about what I got up to while drunk the other weekend.  I think the thing is though that I was still in control, just the usual filter that I operate through had gone.

 

This weekend I have had to deal with socialising, possible romantic involvement and horrendous friendship politics.

 

Yesterday I got in a bit of a state (for a change).  What isn’t helping is that I’m 2 weeks late in having fallen to the communists which isn’t that out of the ordinary because of the coil I had fitted but is still disconcerting as hell.  It also means I’ve had a psychosomatic bad back for about five days now.  You also always have that worry that even though the coil is supposed to be more effective than most other things that you will be the case that proves the exception.  I did a test last night just in case and it came up negative… but again the voice goes ‘but what if it’s too early’.

 

So I’m shoving that in the corner of my mind.

 

I’m meeting with the guy I’ve been talking to soon.  He has issues, I have issues.  My main set of issues at the moment revolves around the fact that part of me is feeling like a 16 year old girl.  I genuinely have butterflies.  When he flirts with me I grin like an idiot.  Then sat next to the 16 year old is the jaded 45 year old who is sat with a newspaper, occasionally looking over the top and saying ‘you’re a fucking idiot, he’s lying to you’.

 

I’m still trying to process what my counselor said and what I know to be true in that I’ve been psychologically conditioned from a young age to be a carer, to be a people pleaser and someone who cares for others.  To be the strong one.  I’m concerned that part of this is coming from my need to mother and heal and the other part is coming from the intense loneliness that just wants to love and be loved.

 

One moment I feel like I’m just about to skip into feeling happy and optimistic and then I’m getting rugby tackled into the ground by my past.  I’ve always gone for the glass being half empty and believing that the worse case scenario is the one most likely to happen… because it generally does.  In my mind it’s just called being prepared.

 

I’m so fucking scared of being hurt and yet I know that’s part of the gamble with relationships.

I’m so fucking scared of loving someone and yet it’s all I want.

 

The shit taking tolerance is also at a new record low so unfortunately I’m telling unfortunate truths and taking names.  When you’ve been coached to lie about a dark family secret under pain of the apocalypse happening you become pretty good at lying and hiding what you’re truly thinking and feeling… apparently this is wearing off.  Everyone is telling me this is a good thing but if I just napalm my whole life I’m scared there’ll be nothing left to rebuild from.  I want to leave my job, I want to leave all the complications I have and just go and live in a monastry on a mountain for a bit… but I guess that wouldn’t help with the loneliness!

 

The weekend worked out though.  What I had originally written off as a ‘grandma weekend’ of sitting in with netflix and crafts (like the 50s+/dead on the inside version of netflix and chill) I ended up getting invited out at the last minute and made myself say yes.
Turns out dancing to the Venga Boys at 1am in a shitty club was exactly what I needed.

 

Just give me the strength to be brave with my job and be brave with trying to take a chance on this guy and I have to hope that maybe something will work out.  If I’m alone at least let me be happy in my job and be successful.  If I have a shitty job just please let me have someone to love and who actually fucking loves me.

 

Or even just help me process the fact someone even could.