Regaining the power

I feel like I’ve got some power back; a little bit of control. It’s nothing substantial and certainly not significant, but I feel like I’ve regained some power.

I’ve still been feeling miserable; totally utterly miserable and downright moody. I have not sworn so much throughout my life as I have in the last week of driving. Cars going slow, not using their indicators and even simply being on the road with me has been enough to have me f-ing this and f-ing that. I never considered myself to be a swearer; I usually don’t say the whole ‘f-word’, I’d say freakin, fricken or f’n, but never the full word. It’s been my most frequently word this last week. At my last job Mel knew I was really pissed off when I’d say fuck. Now, it’s just another word.

Traffic was a nightmare Friday night; I was meeting friends at Preston Market and I’d given what I believed to be my most likely time. I was late. I was pissed. Had Jules not been down from Mackay for the weekend, I would have cancelled (had Jules not been down, the plans wouldn’t have been made). All I wanted to do was cry and curse and sit on my butt feeling sorry for myself.

Manda was there first and she copped the brunt of me – she joined in the swearing, enjoying the freedom without her kids around. It was fun, but the novelty wore off when we cut to the chase. I told her how I’d been feeling about Gary and told her that my thought for travelling had included NZ to see how things went. I told her how we’d stayed in touch and that I was actually hurting again now and so confused.

It was his birthday last Tuesday so I sent him a private message. It wasn’t a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ but nothing particularly full on either. I got a simple ‘Thanks’ and that was it. I then wished him a ‘Good Night’ and the next morning he replied with the same. I sent back a smiley face and said it was a bit late for a good night. It took a day, but he responded with the corn emoji. I responded with ?! and left it at that. On Sunday he sent back two corn emojis. I still have no idea what that means (if you do, please comment!). As the message was so short, it appeared in preview, so I haven’t actually ‘read’ the message so he won’t know that I’ve seen it.

It’s doing my head in having that red 1 icon over my messenger widget, but I can’t read it. I can’t acknowledge it. I need to let go of him, one small message at a time.

During lunch today I was checking out Facebook and saw a notification. Gary had liked one of my photos; a photo from when I went to Tassie in September. I felt a little satisfaction from this – he’s Facebook stalking me. After work, I check Facebook again – he’s mentioned me in a comment. I haven’t read it; I have no idea what the comment is, if it’s from a meme or a link to an article. I know nothing of it – just that he’s mentioned me in a comment. While he’ll never know if I see that or not, I feel a little bit of power back on my side.

The truth is, I’m starting to feel that what T was saying was true – while he may have wanted to see me, I think him staying here was for him and him alone. I feel a little used; I let him stay here for a week, he used my internet, my furniture, my washing machine, ate my food and slept in my bed. Yes, he paid for the fancy dinner, bought other food and paid for our meals and fuel when we did the Great Ocean Road, but that was comparatively much cheaper than paying for a hostel and of course a million times more comfortable.

Then when he first got to NZ, we talked quite a lot, he didn’t have any friends yet, he was feeling down and I felt bad for him. I then helped him get a job, I helped with his online test and also provided a reference (sucker, yes). Now that my purpose has been served, he doesn’t need me anymore. It was bloody killing me last week as that was all dawning on me.

Yet the notification and the liked photo today…. That’s all him and nothing on me. I need to ensure I stay strong and not engage, again. Manda was telling me that I deserve the best, that there is someone out there for me. That I absolutely deserve to be treated like a princess and have someone who would move heaven and earth for me. That that person is not Gary. He is about him and he has demonstrated so many times that he won’t treat me like that, that he won’t move heaven and earth for me. It’s a tough realisation and one in my head that I’ve known for a long time. A few months ago I had thought my heart had caught up to my head; it clearly hadn’t and may not yet for some time. But if I can keep listening to the logic going on in my head, it will catch up.

I do deserve love and happiness and to be treated like a princess, like I’m loved and cared about. Like I am a wanted person in that person’s life. Not that I am a burden or holding them back from doing what they want.

So, while it’s not significant and most likely means nothing to him, I have some power back. I don’t need to read his message, I don’t need to engage and I don’t need to go back and like his old photos. He can do that by himself. I’m in control.


Back to miserable

I’m back to feeling just positively miserable. I’m on the verge of tears or actually getting my eyes to well up and I’m just so over it. It seems that my mood last weekend was because of PMS. After all the shit this year, I’m now bloody regular. This month was like freaking clockwork – four weeks on the dot. I was so moody on Tuesday. Nothing was satisfying me and nothing seems to have since.

Tonight was my last pole dance lesson, the end of term. I actually did a climb and a half – the best I’ve done yet. I was finally starting to get out of my head a little tonight and now it’s bloody over. I almost didn’t go; I was running late then while at a traffic light, saw a pregnant lady and my eyes filled. I told myself if I didn’t get a car park straight away I’d just circle back home. Not only did I get a great spot, I nailed the reverse park in two moves. At least that’s something the universe was helping me out with.

But now I’m back home, have my frozen meal in the oven and I’m fucking miserable. There, I’ve said it. I’m fucking miserable. I told Jess today that I was just looking forward to feeling normal again – she assumed I was referencing my PMS. Well, perhaps hormones are playing up on me now, I don’t know. I’ve not really suffered PMS before, I get cramps sometimes, food cravings, but for the most part I feel fine. But this week, holy hell I’m just over it. I just want to feel normal again.

I’ve mentioned Graeme at work before, his wife has just had baby number two and he everyday tells us how tired he is. We laugh at him, tell him he gets a break at work during the day. And today he just announced to me to not have babies at all. Just don’t have them. I know it’s lighthearted and in jest, but while I had thought I was almost over ‘it’, I’m just not. I want to be pregnant. I want to have my own little baby growing inside me. I want Gary and I to be together and I want to be planning a future with him, for our family. Instead, I’m packing up my stuff, moving house, quitting my job and running away.

I said the other day that I want to hibernate for December. It’s usually my favourite month of the year. It has my birthday, it’s the start of summer and it has Christmas. But this year I don’t have anyone to celebrate my birthday with, my family are a bit all over the place and no one is really looking forward to Christmas. I also have to move past the anniversary of when I met Gary. There are far too many memories for me to deal with for December this year. I just want it over and done with. I want to go to sleep on 30 November and wake up on the second of January. I want 2016 to be over and have faith and trust that 2017 will be a good year. I want to wake up refreshed, happy and not miserable.

A friend shared the following on Facebook tonight:

“Be who you were before all that stuff happened that dimmed your fucking shine.”

If I could remember who I was a year ago, I would totally be that person again. I would get my shine back on and be who I was. But I don’t know who that was and I’m a changed person now. I’m broken and I’m on the edge. It’s more than just my shine that’s been dimmed; it’s my hope for a happy future that’s gone. My heart is split and feels irreparable. I think I need to hate him.

I feel alone and abandoned. I feel there isn’t a way for me to un-dim my shine.

Answers…. or not

I’ve been feeling down again. Not too sure what’s going on with me but I felt like I needed a cry most of the weekend. Tears eluded me, but the feeling has stuck around. I did cry a little on Saturday night watching TV; the character finally gave birth and held a little girl in her arms – it nearly broke me. She wasn’t a main character and I wasn’t particularly invested in her, but it cut through.

It really took me by surprise how much it affected me. I had thought I was doing okay, but I guess not. It just goes to show that I do need to be away from everything in February.

Gary and I have stayed in touch, we seemed to be chatting nearly every day. Me going to New Zealand was coming up more and more. Gary talked about getting a three-bedroom house by the beach and renting out two of the bedrooms. I commented that we were supposed to be sharing a room, to which he responded that yes, I’d sleep on the floor and he’d be on the bed.

We talked a bit about plans over there; he’d got himself a car and I said he’d have to pick me up from the airport when I arrived and told him he had to look after it for when I do get there. I said it’d be nice to have someone look after me for a change – he asked what I meant by that (it was quite obvious to me!). As much as we had all this chatter, we never really discussed what me going to New Zealand would be. I did comment once that I had suggested that before we got engaged, that we should go there as I could work without issue and see how things ended up. I guess I wanted to point out that I was right.

Finally last week I put it to him and asked what his thoughts were. I didn’t want to put pressure on him, or me, but I wanted to know what he wanted. He told me to chill. I just asked if he wanted us to try again, was he open to it? I didn’t get an answer, which really should be an answer in itself. He ended up telling me that I said I didn’t want pressure, yet asking was putting pressure on. Perhaps me mentioning that we stay celibate until we see each other pushed him over the edge. (haha)

Things backed off for a bit and I couldn’t help but feel that I’d scared him off. I told him that I’d told my family about travelling, but I had neglected to tell them that I wanted to go to NZ. This was a conscious decision by me – it was hard enough saying I wanted to travel, let alone say that I was putting myself up for potentially more hurt and pain. A couple of days ago Gary messaged me and said that he ‘thinks it’s best I come for a holiday first’. I asked him what he meant and it took a day for him to respond with more confusion. He asked if I was going to NZ for him.

I replied that I was travelling for me – that I was doing what I wanted for me. We then chatted and I asked him to elaborate. He said he didn’t want me to give up everything – primarily my job – and then not like it over there. Again I said that I was travelling for me and it was about me. I’ve made my mind up about work and travelling, this is not just about him and NZ. I asked him what he’d do if he were me?

There were of course some very interesting ideas that came out, the main one being that I should pursue my British passport and travel the world. Spend time in NZ, go to Europe and England, work and then go to Canada and work my way down to Argentina. My concern is the cost of the passport – it’s about £1,100. Pounds. Great British Pounds. While I do have some savings behind me, that is a big chunk for a non-guarantee of work.

I have started thinking more about my trip and I’m still confused about him and NZ. So perhaps it’s best that I do a couple of months in Asia; Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos first. Then come back to Melbourne for the theatre (I’ve booked tickets for Manda, Alison and I to see Aladdin), head to NZ, see how it goes then maybe head towards Europe. It does seem backwards, but it gives me a way out. I can always get a job over there and it’s not far.

I suggested that he should go home for his sister’s wedding, spend a few weeks there then on his way back, stop in Asia and we could spend some time there, then I could go back to NZ with him. Logically, it makes at least some sense.

More than anything else,however, it gives me a chance to see what may happen. Or not happen. He hasn’t given me anything that he sees or wants a future with me. Yet I still can’t shut it off. All the answers I’m not getting are giving me the answers I need; yet I’m still drawn in. My travels are absolutely all about me and for me. I need to remember that – this is for me and me alone.

I’m doing it

I’m doing it. I’m taking 2017 head on and I’m going to make it mine. I’ve told more friends and the family that I’m travelling and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me.

Except me.

No. Not me. I am and I will do this. I need to stop going inside my head and allowing it to keep holding me back. I could be doing so much better at pole dancing if I just shut up and went with the flow. I could have already booked an epic adventure and be off next week if I didn’t get in my head so much.

I am doing this. I am taking 2017 by the scruff of the neck and I am finding myself. I can’t keep on the way that I am. Was it Einstein that said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting different results? Well, that’s what I’ve been doing. No more.

I had my last appointment with my psychologist and she happened to catch me on a good day. I was upbeat, feeling happy and had just made the decision to travel. She told me to jump on it and asked why I was worried about telling my family and work. I was worried about them – she told me not to be, this needs to be and is all about me. I need to do what is right for me, not for anyone else.

I haven’t told work yet – as I’m still in my probation period, I am only required to give a week’s notice, but I’m worried that if I tell them soon, they may just ask me to leave straight away, and there goes another couple of months’ income. But I also feel like I’m betraying them by possibly just springing it on them and leaving them in the lurch. I do like my workplace, they are friendly, supportive and just all round a great bunch of people to work for, and the company itself does seem to genuinely care about its employees. But the job itself, it’s just not for me. The industry hasn’t captured me and the role isn’t enough of a challenge. When Louise returns from maternity leave, I don’t see there being enough work for four of us on the team. And I don’t want to hang around until April.

When I was telling Donna about my plans to travel, I said I wanted to leave by the end of January. She thinks I should wait a bit longer, why did I have January in my mind, was there something that was giving me that timeframe. I told her there wasn’t, but I just didn’t want to wait. I said that I’d be disowned if I wasn’t here for Christmas, so January it was.

When catching up with Mel yesterday, I told her of my plans and again, the timeframe came up. January came to mind initially due to the timeframe with my apartment going on the market and possible settlement period – end of January. But in addition to that, I don’t want to be around in February. I need to be on a social media blackout and away from everyone and everything in February. I’m getting teary again now just thinking about what February is for so many people and what it should have been for me.

I can’t be here in February. I can’t.

I found out yesterday that my apartment has been sold, a week before the auction, and that it was being bought by an owner-occupier, and so I would be required to move out. Turns out I was right in my pre-planning. I need to get official dates but January it is.

I drove around the city on Wednesday night; I had dinner with T and got some moving boxes from her. I drove over the West Gate Bridge to get to her place from work – the first time I’d personally driven over it. It was gorgeous, seeing the bay to the right and the city to the left. Then on my drive home, I took City Link and went over the Bolte Bridge, rather than driving through the city. I found myself getting quite emotional – Melbourne is such a beautiful city, especially at night. I found myself missing it – not just from not going in every day for work, but also at the prospect of leaving it for possibly a year.

I need to do this and I will do this. Regardless of where I go and what I do, this is all about me. Not anyone else, this is about and for me. I will not apologise for any decisions I make, or try and explain myself to anyone who disagrees with me or can’t understand what I’m doing and why. 2017 is for me. 2016 was all about learning and now 2017 is about putting those lessons into practice, turning my mind off and discovering myself.

Tell me what to do

So, maybe I should just start embracing feeling miserable? I feel good, then I feel down, then I feel okay, then I feel down and for the most, I think really, I just feel miserable.

I miss the times when the feeling good lasted longer and was more frequent than the not feeling good. I miss feeling somewhat in control of my life and knowing what I wanted. I miss not feeling lonely, sad and confused all rolled up into one.

I haven’t cried in awhile. I did shed tears when Gary was here – they just popped up out of nowhere, we were just sitting on the couch chatting and my eyes welled up. I blamed it on onions – just as Gary had the night before. But this whole weekend, I feel like I’ve needed to let myself go and just bawl. Allow huge, gut wrenching sobs to escape my body; feel the tears stream down my face and my stomach clench with each breath I take.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have Gary stay with me that week; perhaps I should have been strong and just agreed to a dinner catch up. I don’t know. It did feel right seeing him, spending that time together. But now that he’s gone (again), I’m feeling worse again. We’ve chatted a few times and we get along fine. But I find myself wanting more and simply not getting it.

I sent him a selfie last weekend, and he responded with ‘You look beautiful Laura ’. I know I looked good, which is why I sent the selfie. But I felt even better getting that response from him. He’s been liking some of my pics on Facebook, so he’s thinking about me at random times. But I need more – and I think I’m likely just setting myself up for something that won’t ever happen.

I told him that I was thinking of up and leaving – travelling and taking some time off. England came up, and me getting my British passport. I said that there was no point going to England, as he wasn’t there. I got a genuine ‘awww’. I brought up New Zealand, tried to put the feelers out there. He said he couldn’t tell me to quit and leave everything here to go over there. Fair enough, that’s a big burden for anyone. While he didn’t shy away from the idea, he also didn’t respond in the way I’d hoped for.

On another call, we were talking about him getting a job and it came up that I’d quite possibly very easily get a job over there. It may not pay huge amounts and won’t be particularly stimulating, but it would be somewhere else. But do I want to do this for me, or for the chance that there could be an ‘us’?

I’m not used to feeling so lost and confused. I want a family, I want my own children and I want to be a mum. But I want so much more right now. I want to be younger so I have ‘time’ to do things; I want love and happiness and self-worth. I want to know what I want.

It would be great if I could get someone else to make my decisions for me. Someone to simply say yes – pack up your things, book a flight and go to NZ. Don’t worry about the money, you’ll earn more. Don’t worry about the future, it will happen, things will work out. Don’t worry about not having kids now – there’s still time.

I hate that I still feel so many responsibilities; that I feel like I should be a true ‘grown up’ and think about things like the future and money and settling down. I know that they say your 30s are the new 20s, but 40 is a lot harder than 30.

I saw my bestie on Tuesday; I brought up spending the week with Gary. I know she didn’t approve, but she didn’t say it, just wanted to ensure that I was okay and not setting myself up for more hurt. I spoke with Emma briefly on Friday as well and again, she too wasn’t impressed. It was T’s birthday yesterday and as I was leaving, I told her I’d spent time with Gary and she didn’t really hold back – said that he only wanted to stay with me so he could have a place to stay, it was more convenience for him to stay with me, didn’t matter that he paid for pretty much everything. It was still all about him.

These three people are incredibly important to me, and they never met Gary. Emma met him once, when we announced our engagement. T and Manda never met him. For such important people in my life, why didn’t they meet the man who I had believed to be my one true love? Was that him or me? He met mum, dad and Donna numerous times and Alison a couple, Mel once. Was I really that much all about him when we were together?

I need to outright ask him the questions. While it may hurt, it will give me closure – closure that I thought I’d obtained when he was here. Some of his values, his victim mentality, his laziness and self-obsession, they all grind on me. When I talk to him these things and others annoy me – I recognize this, yet I still think fondly of him and wonder ‘what if’.

I do need to run away; I’m stuck in a big rut and I need to get out of it. I got rid of some books and clothes last week, now it’s time for me to get rid of more things and evaluate what I need, not just what I want or like having around me, but what I need.

Better yet, someone just tell me what the hell to do and I’ll do it.