Tears and fatigue

So I came home from training for my new job today and immediately burst into tears on seeing the living room.  Why?  My boyfriend had cleaned up after himself.

 

But he had done too good a job and had managed to make it look like he was never coming back somehow.  At least this is how my brain processed the information.

 

It took me five minutes of investigating the house to check there were still things of his scattered about to make me calm down a bit.

 

Just  a tad pathetic right?  Like my brain is just actively sat there, waiting with glee for the moment it can be proved right and I find out he’s gone.

 

Reasons my brain decides that he’s telling me he thinks I’m beautiful:

  1. He’s trying to convince himself – makes it easier to leech of someone if you try to make sure you can try and be attracted to them (He doesn’t leech off me at all, see pt 2)
  2. He’s trying to make me believe that he loves me so that he can leech off me and steal my resources – he isn’t, he’d rather die than do this however my brain will not accept this
  3. He’s saying what he thinks I want/need to hear

 

Note how none of these reasons are anything to do with the fact that he might actually find me attractive because I cannot believe this to be true on any level at all.

 

It feels like everyone I know is pregnant at the moment and while I have absolutely no desire to have kids…  I think it’s upsetting me because my new guy is a Dad.  His kids live with his ex and it just feels like there’s this whole view of the world that I’ll never get.. like a secret club that I can’t gain entry to (I DO NOT WANT TO trust me.  As soon as my implant expires another one is going straight in)…  I think some of it as well just makes me feel like I’ve missed out on something that I wasn’t sure I didn’t want for a while.

 

Trust me, my ex would have been a terrible father and I definitely would have had a more serious break down.  The idea of having to single parent and drop said imaginary child off at his and the bitchstick-piratehooker-‘s place is not at all appealing.  But it was the only time I’d ever actually toyed with having a kid because we’d been together so long.  I’d kind of imagined what our kid would look like (it was always a boy in my head), I’d imagined some names… how happy my ex’s Dad would have been.  It was at a level where, when we split up, I’d been so convinced that I was going to have this kid that it almost felt like the kid had evaporated along with the supposed relationship.

 

So instead I just solidified my opinion that I didn’t want kids.  Then at my training this week I suddenly, truly, realised that if I’m serious about this current guy then I’m going to end up being some form of step-parent and it felt really weird…

 

It’s not that I hate kids.  I get on well enough with everyone else’s…  I just always felt like you shouldn’t have kids unless you have an absolute burning desire for them otherwise you’ll wake up in the morning at 4am covered in their shit and vomit and wanting to die even more than usual.

 

I’ve been ill now for about a month with the same virus and I’m currently training for my new job.  It’s strange how not having to drive for two hours every day has made such a difference to me already.  I’m still suspicious about the idea of it working out given what happened last time.

 

I managed to get myself into a state regarding my last pay cheque but thankfully it worked out alright.  I felt marginally proud of myself for not needing counselling to get through it.

 

I could just really do without my current crazy dreams and constant fatigue.  Falling asleep during class is not flattering.

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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.