Getting the best of me

I’m letting it get the best of me. I’m on the verge of giving up and just letting the depression take me over. I have good moments and low moments and downright miserable moments. I’ve let the miserable take me over today. This morning I was woken by the blinds tapping against a window and it did my head in. I got up and shut the window, and of course, minutes later my alarm went off. I snoozed my pre-set three times, then ended up just setting my timer for an additional 30 minutes.

I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up and facing the day. My head hurt, my belly ached and my mind wouldn’t shut down. I made a doctor’s appointment and made the call to tell work I wouldn’t be in today. The appointment with a doctor is wasteful, I just need a medical certificate so I can redeem sick leave. I know what’s wrong with me; I’m just too weak to overcome it today.

Mel and Alison came round for drinks Saturday night. We had no firm plans, other than have a couple and see what happened. We ended up drinking more than expected and stayed in. Mel got my phone again (okay – I handed it to her) and she got onto Tinder. Alison was curious how it worked, so we had a laugh. I had a like and a super like, but I’ve not followed up. I’m not in that space anymore, and the effort required is just non-existent right now.

This week marks my birthday, the anniversary of the night I met Gary and also my work Christmas party. I have no plans for my birthday apart from going to work. The idea of spending my birthday alone is really breaking my heart. I want someone to make me feel special, to show me that I am worth it, and worthy.

When I caught up with Manda and Jules last weekend, I told Manda that I had initially been planning to go to NZ to see what happened with Gary, but I was now thinking against it. She didn’t hold back and told me that he was all about him and that I was worth so much more. I deserved someone who would treat me well and be about me and for me. She did hit the mark though when she said that she knows I haven’t had much in the way of relationships, so clinging to this one isn’t good for me.

That’s the truth. I’m scared that there isn’t anyone else out there for me. As much as I know in my head that he isn’t right for me, I’ve not had much luck otherwise. He came up again this weekend with Mel and Alison. There’s no holding back by anyone now – my friends do not like him. I still want to protect him of sorts. I need to stop that as it is holding me back and stopping me from being happy.

He liked an old Facebook picture of mine – one from almost four years ago. I felt some of the power come back. Mel and I messaged him Saturday night – against my better sober judgment. I asked him 10 questions, not sure if he’d respond to them all. Oddly enough, he did. I asked why he was Facebook stalking me to which he said that he was wondering if he’d made a mistake. I also asked him if he wanted me to go to NZ. He said no.

I have asked him to elaborate on the NZ answer – I said it was harsh. But I don’t feel terrible about it – it has been increasingly obvious that he didn’t want me to go. I’d already decided I’m going to Asia anyway. I did tell him that he did make a mistake, but he needs to learn from it. So he’s again contradictory. He wonders if he made a mistake but also doesn’t want me to go. My head knows what is right and that he is not it, but my heart still has that soft spot.

Life, while not especially hopeful at the moment, will go on. I may not feel worthy or worthwhile at the moment but I do need to have my time outs. Today is one of those. Today can take away the best of me but I’ll bring it back. Not likely this week, or even this month. But I’ll get it back. I’ll be the best of me soon enough. I have to be.

I’ll get the best of me.

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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.

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.