Right now I’m pretty shit

So this has been a rough weekend. I was actually supposed to go out Friday night; I even walked to the tram stop, topped up my Myki and waited for the tram. But minutes before it arrived, I got up and walked home. I just wasn’t up to catching up with past work colleagues and having a couple of drinks, engaging in small talk and being asked about my wedding plans. Having to say I was now single and absolutely miserable. So I walked home and spent the night on the couch in my pjs,wallowing in self-pity.

I had thought I was getting better, I’d had a good week – been on a couple of dates and had some laughs. But then out of nowhere the sadness and loneliness hit me. I am honestly so over crying, feeling down and lacking in confidence in the future. I am over it. But apparently it isn’t done with me; I’ve been in a slump all weekend.

Yesterday was a friend’s daughter’s 2nd birthday at the zoo. I’d been preparing myself for this for weeks. It wasn’t just the going to a family event at a location that would be full of kids and happy families. It was that this friend was also pregnant; we should have been within a couple of weeks of each other. And her sister, she’s also recently suffered a missed miscarriage. She was actually due to give birth a month or so ago. I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle seeing them – the emotions would be too overwhelming. Maybe I was trying to rid myself of the tears before seeing them.

I persevered and made the short trek there. Not long after arriving I had a call from my older sister; she asked how I was and I said that I was actually pretty shit. I’d been ok but that I wasn’t then and there. My voice cracked, just as my eyes are now, and I didn’t know what to do. How many people walk around the zoo crying? Knowing that talking more would only make me worse, we hung up. I watched the baboons for a bit, then found my friends.

As soon as Jodie saw me, she rushed over and just held me in a big hug; Tanya stood by, waiting her turn, then she just joined in. Held by these two incredible women, I cracked again. Jodie then had to pull away, and her mum stepped in. She asked how I was and I said that right then I was pretty shit, but had been doing ok. And that’s the absolute truth. I had been doing ok, but right now, I’m pretty shit.

As we left, I had a talk with Tanya – we promised to catch up soon. She’s doing ok, had been doing it hard but she has her husband and daughter with her. She said that someone had said she shouldn’t talk about it, but she thought she needed to. Had we not been standing by her car with everyone inside, I would have gone into everything with her. All I want to do is talk about it, and ideally with someone who may have some sense of understanding. I only found out about her situation after everything happened with me and I’d wanted to reach out, but didn’t know if either of us would have been able to cope. I think we both can now.

Life is rough now. Actually, it’s pretty shit. I was happy (enough) before meeting Gary and content with being single. I was looking forward to becoming a single mum. Now I’m not content or at all happy being single. And I am desperate to become a mum; but not a single mum. I said awhile ago that I’m 33, I’m not old. Well, by the time I meet someone, we’d need to be together for at least a year before considering something as serious as marriage and children (I can’t repeat my choices with Gary) so I’m looking at falling pregnant at 35 at the absolute earliest. So, 33 may not seem old. But when you add everything else it is old. Life is pretty shit right now.

I thought I was ready

I’ve been saying that I don’t miss him; that it’s the companionship and the intimacy that I miss. But now I’m not sure. Right now, my heart is positively aching. I had a cry before – nothing major, but a cry nonetheless.

The beauty of having a Mac is that the automatic screen saver is just a run through of your photos, completely random. Great when I see photos of my travels or my friends and family. But it goes through every photo you have. Including memes. And a meme I saved and sent to him came up and it bloody hurt. I have now deleted it, along with a couple of others. I want to delete all the photos I have of him and us, but I can’t. I will look back fondly one day and we did have a great time. The first half of this year truly was amazing – it was everything I had wanted: I was doing stuff, I was in love, I was enjoying life.

Now I’m not. I’m trying to but it’s bloody hard. I had thought I was ready to finally delete our text conversations from my phone; my friends have said they’ll do it for me or they’ll be there when I do it. But right now, I ache at the thought of getting rid of them.

I have been good and haven’t checked his Facebook page so I honestly don’t know where he is. I still assume he’s in Sydney but I just don’t know. I would like to think that he is wallowing in self-pity and missing me terribly but I just don’t know. Even if he was, he’d never acknowledge it or put it on a public forum. I need to stay strong and not look.

The issue this week has been that I’ve had a couple of dates and I can’t help but compare and since I’ve told the girls at work what has happened, I want to keep revealing and sharing. It’s like I can’t stop myself talking, and therefore thinking, about him.

Looking back there were many cracks and holes; love truly is blind. When retelling the details in a very undetailed form to T last week, she simply said that she was glad her friend didn’t marry this guy. Overall I agree; I deserve better than that and again, he doesn’t deserve me. But right now, when I’m sitting on the couch alone on a Friday night in my pjs, he would be better than nothing.

Scared to reveal

I started this blog to help me heal and try and come to terms with the loss of my baby. It’s ended up being mainly about relationships and finding someone; coming to grips with breaking up with Gary and the aftermath. Not what I wanted – really, who needs another break up story? But it is helping me work through it.

Yet still at the back of my mind has been the urge to write about my pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. The loss of my baby. My body’s betrayal. The guilt I tell myself I’m not feeling. The grief that I had hoped to be over.

I have so desperately wanted to write about my experience in the hospital, the days leading up to it and the days following. But it still hurts – a hurt like I didn’t believe was possible.

This is a reveal that could be many posts and will take time to write and many drafts. I just don’t know when I’ll be ready to write it in full, give it the justice that I feel it needs.

I know that it will hurt. I know that I will cry. I know that I will have to think deeply about what happened. I know I will have to address all the feelings and emotions that I’m trying to forget. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready but I do know that I have to write it.

I’m scared of crying again – I have cried so much in the last two months that I’m sick of it – I hate the feeling of the tears streaming down my face, my nose running and my face burning up. I hate wiping my face with tissues. I hate the weakness I am seeing in myself for crying. I hate it all.

I’m scared that I’ll feel like I did again the day before I started my new job. I’m scared I’ll fall down a dark hole and won’t come back up. I’m scared that I’ll want to see him again. I’m scared that I’ll be alone.

I’m scared of seeing what else is buried within.

I’m scared.

I don’t know how to be anyone but me

I’ve been doing well lately – getting out and about, sharing more of myself at work and planning activities. But one night last week, I had another ‘moment’.

I can’t remember what set me off but I remember lying in bed and tears started running down my cheeks. I’d been reflecting a bit on my relationship with Gary and how I miss it – the kisses, the cuddles, the spending time with someone – the intimacy. Feeling and sharing love. And I started to worry that maybe I wouldn’t find that again.

I am a woman with a woman’s insecurities and worries; am I good enough, am I attractive enough; am I special enough?

Am I enough?

The online dating has been interesting and following on from my last post, I am putting myself out there. I’m getting out of my shell and meeting new people. But I remember how ‘easy’ it was when I met Gary and when we went on our first dates. I remember being entirely me at all times. No pretences; just pure undiluted me. The time I was least ‘me’ was when I called him around for our first night together (yes, a late night ‘tipsy’ booty call). Amazingly he still wanted to see me again – even after seeing my unattractive morning after pjs and heavy head.

But what if no one else does? What if being me is just not good enough? I don’t know how to be anyone but me. I recently saw an image on Facebook, one of those inspirational quotes:

I’m not a one in a million kind of girl.
I’m a once in a lifetime kind of woman.

It has been my profile picture since. It really resonates with me; right to my very core. I have always been an ‘indi-bloody-vidual’. I am no one but me.

But what if I’ve had my once in a lifetime chance? What if this pregnancy was my once in a lifetime pregnancy? What if Gary was my once in a lifetime engagement? What if being me is just not enough? Maybe I am simply a one in a million kind of girl and there are millions more out there like me – but more attractive, younger and more loveable?

I know that I’m loved by my family and friends. But I need more; I want more; I deserve more. I don’t know how to be anyone but me. Will that be good enough for someone else?

Out of my shell

I haven’t been quite myself lately. Apart from the lack of appetite and the heartache, just these last few days I’ve been an almost different person.

At work I feel I’m getting cheekier and louder; I’ve definitely come out of my shell. It’s kind of demonstrated to me how much I’ve grown and changed over the last 11 years. It took me months to open up when I worked at the call centre; it took me months to open up when I started at the travel agency (thank God I did otherwise I wouldn’t have my bestie now!) and then when I moved to the head office, it again took me months to open up and eat lunch in the tea room with others. But I’m less than four weeks in, I eat lunch in the tea room (partly as there is nowhere nearby to go!), I pick on colleagues, I laugh and tell jokes, I put myself out there. I’ve been saying that my new colleagues are super friendly and they are. But I’m not as shy as I once was which is allowing me to respond to their friendliness.

My shyness has also disappeared socially. I finally signed up for a dating site on Saturday afternoon and almost immediately had some messages with a couple of guys. I wasn’t taking it too seriously – it was a free site and as soon as my account was ‘open’ I had likes – there was no info, just that I was a 33yo woman and my suburb. So clearly guys just like all girls. But once I’d filled in a bit of info and saw some profiles I took the plunge.

There was one guy who was rather dirty and one-track minded; he offered to ‘eat me out’. There was another who said he was just after friends, but through messaging and a phone call, found out he wanted to pash me. Another guy then told me my boobs weren’t big enough and that I didn’t have enough self-respect.

Move forward to Mel and I then going to a local pub after a few whiskeys at home and chatting to a couple of guys, brothers. The one I was chatting with was sweet, but not my type. Then somehow I ended up with a couple of pashes on the dance floor. I’ve never kissed more than one guy in a night and here I am, flirting, chatting and kissing multiple guys in one night. This is not me! Overall, the night wasn’t a success and when we got home I did shed a couple of tears. I didn’t and don’t miss him; I miss being with someone.

Heavy headed I wake up Sunday morning and log back on to find more likes and messages waiting. It’s quite overwhelming; are they genuine, do they actually like the look and sound of my profile, or are they all after one thing? Or worse, are they cat-fishing me? But I need to stay positive – I am a good person and deserve good. After receiving some very poorly directed bad karma this year, there has to be good karma just waiting for me. Why not here?

I start chatting with one guy who seems quite sweet and is also very local – same suburb! He gives me his number and we have had some epic text sessions each day since. At this stage we’re planning on meeting up on Saturday night. I again need to remain positive, but also cautious. That’s how they get you in – they say all the right things and make you comfortable and then – BAM! But we’ll see – he does seem genuine. Of course I also thought Gary was the one and would be there for me. But positive. I need to remain positive.

But then today – I get a text from my bestie’s friend’s brother. And I immediately feel comfortable; I know he’s a nice, genuine guy. He’s a real guy guaranteed!

I do have doubts – am I ready, can I ‘date’ in the traditional sense, am I open to the possibility of being hurt, can I make myself vulnerable? I’ve never ‘dated’ before. My ex before Gary was a guy I went out with in high school; we reconnected years after school. Then there was Gary; both were ‘easy’ relationships to start, both ended in unexpected and painful ways. I haven’t done the dating thing before – this is scary, exciting, confidence boosting, cheeky. I need to enjoy this. I need to have fun and know that I am worth it. I am a good person; I am sexy, attractive and worth someone’s while.

I need to remain positive. I need to continue overcoming my shyness. I need to stay out of my shell.

 

 

 

Missing Out

I’m not happy with last night’s post. It was messy and hodgepodge. I’m not a planner when it comes to my writing and that was evident with yesterday’s update. But I hadn’t written in awhile and I missed it – I felt the need to write so I did.

I’m doing this blog to help me feel better and I’m getting there; I can actually see the light approaching. But I’m still missing out. I miss things. I miss waking up feeling happy, and eating breakfast without force, I miss eating a full dinner and having a cheeky dessert. I miss doing stuff. I miss being held at night. I miss getting a hello or goodbye kiss. I miss saying and hearing ‘I love you’. I miss things and feelings, but I don’t miss him.

I’ve gone a few more days without crying and today there were times I felt positive and excited about the future. My future. My future with someone that will be amazing; where I’ll be thought of and treated as amazing. Our future where we’ll have a family and a house and a dog and all of the other things we’ve wanted. Yes, I’ll be older than what my ideal had been, but I’ll still have it. And along with it, I’ll have life experiences which will ensure I’m able to make the most of everything and be the best possible mum, partner and woman I can be.

I’ve missed out in the past by not sharing my inner goings on with friends and family. I’ve always struggled sharing my feelings and emotions with others; I don’t like to burden and feel that my issues are insignificant. While I’m not celebrating that a broken engagement and a miscarriage are ‘something to talk about’, it does make it easier for me to share. These are signifiant events – along with the other crap that happened earlier this year. I don’t want to keep missing out.

I’ve missed out on a stronger relationship with mum. Oddly enough, I’ve found it quite easy to talk with mum about what’s been happening. I’ve usually felt a bit distant from her and found it easier to talk with dad; but this last month-plus I’ve found it easy to talk with her and hard to speak with dad. Dad wears his emotions on his sleeve a little too much, especially when his daughters are in pain. I’ve needed to avoid his emotions as they would have broken me further. This is the same with my older sister, she can’t hide her emotions and I’ve only been able to deal with my own. But my younger sister and mum – I’m not saying they hide their emotions, but it’s been easier for me to talk to them.

I’m missing out now, but I won’t be missing out forever. To help me stop missing out, I’m planning a night out on Saturday with Mel – we’re going to get me on some dating apps and then see where the drinks and night takes us. She’s going to master her wing-woman skills. I’m going to master my not-being-shy-and-just-go-for-it skills. I’m going to have a good time; not just because I want to, but because I deserve to and am ready to.

I’m certainly not going to look back on this period and be thankful, but I do need to take on whatever lessons are thrown my way. I need to take on board whatever I can so that I stop missing out.

I won’t keep missing out by holding myself back.

Ding Dong the Dick is Gone

I feel there is a light and the tunnel is getting shorter. I’m almost ready to tell my new work colleagues about what I’ve been through and remove the mystery of my starting work a week late and my comments about my appetite returning. (They’re far too polite to ask but I sense Rachael is super keen to know what happened.)

I now haven’t had a cry in a few days but I did shed some tears on Saturday morning. I got really frustrated with myself. How dare I keep crying over this dick? I caught up with my sister Saturday afternoon; she just waits for me to talk about stuff and again, my eyes welled up. I told her I’d had a cry that morning and got frustrated – she told me to forgive myself, it will take time. But I’m just over it. I’m better than him and he doesn’t deserve my tears.

I then told her about a song that’s my silent anthem and she loved it – she’d actually been waiting for the right time to tell me about it herself. It’s by Little Mix, ‘Hair’. The best line is ‘he’s just a dick and I knew it’. Somewhat perfect.

We haven’t been in touch since Thursday when I finally took the step of un-friending him and changing my status back to single. The final straw was when he shared a picture that had a list of what men want from relationships: Food, loyalty and sex. The list of what women want included: Love, loyalty, super great sex, email account and passwords, attention and it went on. It really got to me and helped me turn a corner.

I told him that it was rude and all ties were being cut. He asked what the issue was, it wasn’t about me, it was about all women. Many times through our relationship I told him that I didn’t like being compared to other women and didn’t appreciate stereotypes like that. I said that it was disrespectful to me, especially since we had just broken up. He then said it was a joke. I didn’t reply. He later messages saying that it was about how simple men were compared to women. I can only assume that his ex (who he’s probably staying with in Sydney) told him to say that. I’m proud of myself for not responding.

I did speak about him a lot on the weekend; I can only hope that his ears burned holes in his hoodie. I spent Sunday with my bestie and her two kiddies; we went to the Yarra Valley Chocolaterie and enjoyed the sunshine. I’d spent the night at her place, so for breakfast Manda made pancakes and one of mine was in the shape of a heart – so I’d know I was loved. I ate that one second and forced it down – my appetite wasn’t quite there but I had to finish that heart – let the inside of me know that I was loved. I think it worked. While I didn’t have lunch, I was inspired and bought myself a roast chicken when I went grocery shopping and had chicken and baked veggies for dinner – I actually cooked!

I’ve still got a way to go, but with my eating habits getting to be a little more ‘normal’ and my stomach being slightly less ache-y in the mornings I’m getting there. Manda even rang me last night to ask if she could give my number to her friend’s brother. I’ve met him once before and he seemed nice; I said yes. It was nice to know he was interested and I need to get myself out there.

Who knows what will happen? But at least I’m trying and no longer crying over the clueless dick. He is gone and my heart is done.