Is it only timing that has made it such a dark hour?
I have not been doing well. I've been incredibly depressed, and my depression has taken on an edge it never had before, which I can only attribute to my bad trip. I get so down that I feel like I'm losing my mind, or getting lost in my mind. When that bad trip happened, I couldn't see or perceive the room around me. I was trapped in my head, in a very dark place I didn't know was there. I didn't know that kind of misery could exist inside me. And that's what reaches out a tentacle to me when I'm feeling down. And it tells me this is all my fault. I've finally started to cry again, because when I don't cry, my body shivers instead. I can't make myself talk to anyone about this, which is why I'm writing it here instead. I tried talking to Allie, and Rita, but I couldn't make myself say all this. I have trouble sleeping. I have trouble eating. If I wasn't such a coward, I think I would have hurt myself one evening. I made a resolution to start running after that night; if I need to be hard on my body, I should do it productively. I've stopped buying cigarettes, and stopped drinking every night. I'm trying to help myself, but it's really hard.
I regret deciding to stay here. I stayed here for TM, there was nothing else here that meant enough to keep me. I shouldn't have stayed. I shouldn't have wasted all my money to stay. I fucked up big time, and stupidly, because it was for love. Love has been biting my hand when I feed it. I'm tired of Love's bullshit. I am completely miserable. I am desperately unhappy. The only thing I can do to make myself feel better is watch tv, because I can turn my brain off. The rest of the time, this situation hangs like an orangutan on my back.
Last time I talked to TM, he said he was confused, but didn't want to talk about it. And I completely lost my cool. I'd been doing really well. I was sad, but I was ready to make the motions of being friends again. But the word "confused" completely threw me, unhorsed me, trampled me, and I have completely fallen apart. But I think I've finally figured out why it fucked me up so bad. Because my certainty, my lack of confusion, depended on his certainty. We took a two-week break before we broke up, to think about things. And I wanted to keep trying. And he wanted to break up. I didn't fucking want to, I was still clinging to the faith that we could make it work. But squinting towards the east, my faith makes me a dope. So we broke up. And it was awful, but irrevocable, so I moved forward.
TM's confusion threw a monkey wrench into the mess. He didn't say what he meant, or what he was thinking about, so I was left to come to my own conclusions about what "confused" meant. And I haven't been able to get a grip since then, and have been sliding into chaos, because my entire world is wrapped around my relationship with TM, and suddenly that relationship is unclear and I can't do anything about it.
I've spent every moment since then waiting for him to get back in touch with me. Three weeks, just waiting and waiting. I get a sick feeling in my stomach every time I get a text message. After a horrible, awkward encounter last night, today I sent him a text asking if he was ready to talk, and he said he needed a little more time. He has no idea that I've been going through all this, of course, and it's totally reasonable for him to need more time. But I freaked out because that means, what, another whole week of this? Of feeling like I'm going crazy? Of not being able to concentrate on anything, do anything creative, or interact with anyone at all because I am so morose that it oozes out of me, like Howl? I have been waiting to talk to TM before allowing myself to move forward. I've been waiting on his mysterious personal verdict to decide what to do with myself. What? WHAT? Miranda, that is crazy! Are you listening to yourself? Get a grip!
And when I realized that, I was able to take things into my own hands again, finally. Like, an hour ago. Thank goodness. I have taken the reins, and it's up to me again! What a hard thing to do. I know I can't make myself let go of that dopey faith, but I don't have to say "no" or "never". I don't have to say, "I AM GETTING OVER THIS MAN FOREVER, forevermore I shall only feel towards him as one platonic friend to another, NO MORE shall the valley of passion tempt me." That is impossible to claim, so I will make an easier choice. One that allows for bending, for wending, for building or breaking down, depending on the weather, and the future, and the lives of men. I will just choose to stop obsessing over my confounded confused relationship, and stop letting it control my life. My life is about Miranda, not about TM! I will concentrate on building myself back up into something resembling a functioning, happy person. I will take care of poor Miranda again; she's been having such a rough time. I'll stop beating her up for things she can't help, things that should be water under the bridge by now.
It's taken a good long while, but I feel a little better now. I have a flag to wave, that says, "Sweet Esme, kindness prevails." I hear a trumpet in my heart instead of the jabbering of demons. I wrote all this down intending to delete it when I finished, but reaching the end has made me feel so much more purposeful that I will just go for it. Jeez, why are relationships so complicated and crazy and hard to think clearly about? I am usually such a reasonable, centered, sane human being. It's scary to lose it over someone like this.
My New Year's resolution is to stop saying "sorry" all the time when I don't really have to. I'm telling you this because I have this overwhelming urge to say, "Sorry for being depressed and writing about it on livejournal." I'm glad I've made this resolution, because I really need to stop using that word all the time. It would be so silly to apologize for being depressed, or for needing love, or for reaching out. So instead of saying sorry, I'll say thank you, friends.