Everything has changed so much.
I can't even begin to describe everything that has happened since my last post. It's been two years and my life is literally nothing like it was then.
I finally opened my eyes to the toxic environment that was my relationship. I appreciated the good times and the bond we shared, but what became suddenly so shockingly obvious was how unhappy it was making me. It turned me into such an unhappy, insecure, possessive, jealous and needy person that I didn't even know who I was anymore. It drove me to do things that I never thought I was capable of doing. I did things I look back on and am disgusted of myself. I don't blame him for my actions, but I blame the relationship we had to the person I became. I should have known right at the start that it would have never worked out. All of the trust problems, all of the insecurity and possession and jealousy had started before we were even official. And it continued to happen throughout the next three years. It took me over a year to finally accept the fact that it wasn't going to work, and it took me months after that to get the guts to actually discuss the option of ending it.
It felt liberating and freeing and I knew that what we did was the best choice. We were both happier. Of course it hurt. I cried. It was like losing a limb. He had become such a constant part of my life, such a support for my tough times, and that person I would tell everything to, and suddenly I had to let him go. Of course it was hard. As happy as it made me feel, losing him left a huge, huge, gap in my life.
Suddenly I was in a place where I had never been before, but always had wanted to be. I was single, surrounded by friends, 19 years old. I had a new found confidence. I met boys. I kissed them. I explored. I felt so good being able to be free and do what I wanted. It felt so good to let all of my curiosity out and let out steam I had pent up over the past three years. It wasn't as though I had rather have been single in a relationship the whole time I was with him- I like being in relationships. But I wanted to experience what it was like to REALLY be single. And I got to.
And then, of course, I found someone new. We dated. We had fun. We decided not to have feelings, just to be friends, to mess around. But of course, in a situation like this, feelings are inevitable. And, now, turns out, I've fallen in love again. Only this time it's different. He makes me a better person. He makes me happier. He makes me feel secure and trusting and happy. I know I can wholeheartedly trust him, and he can trust me. It's like I've started on a clean slate. All of the grudges and insecurity of my past relationship was washed away as soon as I got involved with him. There was no pressure for the future, no expectations of where we wanted to be together. We are just living in the hear and now.
If it wasn't for his constant encouragement and support, I never would have finally gone to a doctor, to discuss something I had been battling for over a year. So, this year, I finally talked to someone, and was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety disorder. I got given medication. I got given counselling. I'm doing better, I'm not 100%, but with him everything is optimistic. He makes sure I take my citalopram every day. He makes sure I have my emergency panic attack medication if I'm starting to feel anxious. He holds me and soothes me when I'm panicking and makes me breathe with his breaths.
Of course, a lot of other things have happened over the past two years. This post is just about my misadventures and eventual good fortunes of love.
I finally opened my eyes to the toxic environment that was my relationship. I appreciated the good times and the bond we shared, but what became suddenly so shockingly obvious was how unhappy it was making me. It turned me into such an unhappy, insecure, possessive, jealous and needy person that I didn't even know who I was anymore. It drove me to do things that I never thought I was capable of doing. I did things I look back on and am disgusted of myself. I don't blame him for my actions, but I blame the relationship we had to the person I became. I should have known right at the start that it would have never worked out. All of the trust problems, all of the insecurity and possession and jealousy had started before we were even official. And it continued to happen throughout the next three years. It took me over a year to finally accept the fact that it wasn't going to work, and it took me months after that to get the guts to actually discuss the option of ending it.
It felt liberating and freeing and I knew that what we did was the best choice. We were both happier. Of course it hurt. I cried. It was like losing a limb. He had become such a constant part of my life, such a support for my tough times, and that person I would tell everything to, and suddenly I had to let him go. Of course it was hard. As happy as it made me feel, losing him left a huge, huge, gap in my life.
Suddenly I was in a place where I had never been before, but always had wanted to be. I was single, surrounded by friends, 19 years old. I had a new found confidence. I met boys. I kissed them. I explored. I felt so good being able to be free and do what I wanted. It felt so good to let all of my curiosity out and let out steam I had pent up over the past three years. It wasn't as though I had rather have been single in a relationship the whole time I was with him- I like being in relationships. But I wanted to experience what it was like to REALLY be single. And I got to.
And then, of course, I found someone new. We dated. We had fun. We decided not to have feelings, just to be friends, to mess around. But of course, in a situation like this, feelings are inevitable. And, now, turns out, I've fallen in love again. Only this time it's different. He makes me a better person. He makes me happier. He makes me feel secure and trusting and happy. I know I can wholeheartedly trust him, and he can trust me. It's like I've started on a clean slate. All of the grudges and insecurity of my past relationship was washed away as soon as I got involved with him. There was no pressure for the future, no expectations of where we wanted to be together. We are just living in the hear and now.
If it wasn't for his constant encouragement and support, I never would have finally gone to a doctor, to discuss something I had been battling for over a year. So, this year, I finally talked to someone, and was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety disorder. I got given medication. I got given counselling. I'm doing better, I'm not 100%, but with him everything is optimistic. He makes sure I take my citalopram every day. He makes sure I have my emergency panic attack medication if I'm starting to feel anxious. He holds me and soothes me when I'm panicking and makes me breathe with his breaths.
Of course, a lot of other things have happened over the past two years. This post is just about my misadventures and eventual good fortunes of love.