Oct 30, 2018 02:50
Well, I guess that's it.
We had a good run of it, and a lot of good memories. But I guess it's finally over.
I can't figure out how I really feel. Maybe it just isn't real yet. We live together, after all. And we've been torturing each other for months.
Overstatement. Holding each other back. Lester has some problems, and so do I.
We're still going to Ren Fest.
Things started to go downhill soon after moving in together. Scratch that off the bucket list.
And they really face planted after we broke up for August. Face. Plant.
After I freaked out at the obligation of forever. Taking on your set of problems, not even having worked through mine. Agreeing to be complacent in this set of dysfunctions, no matter how good or bad, sticking them out for better or worse. Agreeing to all of the obligations that a traditional relationship requires out of a partner and a woman. You were happy, partially because I know how to do things right, and when I voiced my problems to try and address them, when you found out I wasn't complete sunshine and daisies, you couldn't deal. It's okay.
And after I miscarried. I don't know why it keeps popping into my brain. I didn't know how it'd make me feel, and I didn't think it'd bother me this much. I didn't expect the questions it'd make me ask.
We don't have to take care of each other anymore. He can go wild, run off, get blackout trashed and go nuts, and I don't have to babysit. We used to both do that for each other, but at some point it became one sided. I stopped getting smashed in part because it isn't fun anymore and isn't healthy, and in part I guess because I knew I'd need to be his handler. Am I just growing up? He hasn't drunk sat for me in a long time. I miss when we used to have fun, instead of expecting the chore later. I miss being his friend. Maybe we can be friends again. It's okay if not, because I'm remembering how to be alone, and I'm remembering that it really isn't so bad.
I've been making the decision that I want to be better, one step at a time, and I'm doing it.
I have bad habits, and I've known for a while that if I don't calm down, they will eventually kill me.
That's not how this story is gonna go.
I'm not actively trying to drink myself to death anymore, and haven't for a long, long while. I care about continuing, and that means something. My self-destructive tendencies are, for the most part, effectively checked. I've made a lot of progress in the last few years, and even though some days are dark and some nights are hard, I'm always trying to get better. I keep trying, even when it sucks. Determination. Persistence.
I've been depressed for a while, and I'm realizing that it's basically been my whole life. Sure, I'm happy: I have really great upswings, and for a decent portion of our relationship, I felt pretty good. I had depressive episodes in our house on St. Julien. I have depressive episodes here at St. Joseph, too. I always have, but I haven't had to deal with a partner living with me through them before. I'm kinda in the middle of one still now, but it seems like it's getting better or something. We broke up, but I've put some weight back on. I'm getting involved with work again, and I'm going out and doing things more. I'm doing projects, like writing, and I'm reading a lot. I cried a bunch yesterday, but I didn't actually cry today. Maybe it just hasn't hit me, I dunno. Anyways, I'm starting to consider the possibility of anti anxiety or anti depressant meds.
But before trying those, what I really want to do is try completely quitting everything. I haven't smoked anything at all in over a month, good start. I'm not even close to drinking daily, although I'm social enough for it to still be regular. If I quit, give it up for a while, maybe I'll be surprised at my findings. A little exercise, a little eating healthy. Trying all the regular stuff before I drop a ton of money on a prescription. I just have to learn to manage my social anxiety differently. I can do that.
My writing project is going to be very good for me. I maybe could be writing that instead of this, but the point is even after writing a bunch already today, I still wanted to come and write this too. I want to unlock these doors again, and getting engaged with it is just the prescription for me. I'm practicing being honest in my writing, making the choice to tell it as it is and not how I think it should be, and it's showing through. A book will emerge, and even if it's just for me, I'll be better for having written it.
This is going to be very hard, and very sad. But I am going to be okay. This is happening because it's for the best, and even though that might not seem obvious sometimes, I just have to believe in it. I'll see it one day, and I'll be happy it went the way it did. That's always how it works out eventually. When one door closes, another door opens. This is a door too, I'm just moving through it.
Here's to writing the next phase of our lives.