Posts Tagged 'breakups'

In Need

This afternoon, I gathered up the books and movie of his that he left over here, along with a note he’d left in my car and some pictures he’d given me, and put them on the hood of his car while he was at work.  Honey was on the phone with me the whole time, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid, like go inside.  I didn’t text or call to let him know they were there.  I didn’t get any messages, either. 

This made me feel better, although later when I was out with the boys at Target, I had a sudden overwhelming need to be outside.  Not quite a panic attack, but similar.  I was so afraid that I would cry in front of the boys, and I wasn’t even sure where this emotion was coming from (at least not in the context of being at Target). 

Luckily, I was able to get our loot paid for and home before I locked myself in my bathroom to cry, all the while being silent and trying not to get hysterical.  Kind of like letting just a little out so that it didn’t overflow.  Actually, after about 5 minutes, I picked myself up off the floor, washed my face, and was able to get some reading done for school.  I was able to concentrate for over 2 hours on that damned book.  I’m still not caught up, but I’m closer. 

I’m going on Thursday to talk to a therapist.  I have been down like this twice before, both times because of Douche, and now this.  I didn’t think anyone else would ever be able to hurt me like that again.  Both times before I thought about suicide, and don’t want to get to that point again.  Even though this is a very different situation than the end of my marriage, there are underlying issues coming through and I am in a similar emotional state.  I’m terrified.  I can’t live this way and I feel like such a baby for being so crushed.

The first time I was depressed, I didn’t know what was going on with me.  Douche had left for the Army, and I was going to school, taking care of the baby, writing him letters every day, and managing our finances.  I was sad all the time and couldn’t eat.  I didn’t talk to anyone about it, except maybe a little bit to my sister (I had just graduated from high school).  When I saw cousins and people I hadn’t seen in a while, they would tell me I was skin and bones and needed to eat.  It took me almost a year to feel normal again and put on a little weight.  The last time, it took me a good 2 months before I went for help.  I quit my job and couldn’t get through a day without breaking down.  Once I had help, it took about 4 months to get back to normal, and by that time I had lost 30 pounds, and was “skin and bones” again.  This time, I know myself well enough to know what I need.  I haven’t been able to eat much and I’m losing weight.  My jaws and teeth hurt from constant clenching.  I can’t concentrate for very long on anything, and I go between anxious and exhausted.

If I didn’t have my boys, I would probably try to work through it on my own with my girlfriends and here on the blog.  I’d have time to break down and cry, to sleep all day on the weekends, and all that stuff, but I can’t.  I need to be present for my babies, and it’s getting increasingly hard, but I’m the only parent around.  I don’t want them to see me lose it, they’ve been through enough already.

I am so fucking pissed that I am here again.  Reduced to this by a man person who really doesn’t give a fuck.  Who thinks he knows what love means, but has no idea.  Who says, when told just how devastated I was, “you have to pick yourself up,” even knowing ALL my history.  (he said that a week ago).  Who has been this way himself, but still can’t put himself in my shoes.  Then I realize that he probably isn’t capable of that. 

One of the principles I live by is the golden rule.  I try to treat others the way I would like to be treated, and this is a reminder of that.  I hope that I would never make anyone feel this way.  Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to hate him, or Douche, or anyone for that matter.

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Perspective

Last night, it was so very hard not to message HotD.  His birthday is today, and I had already sent a card off before Monday, so I couldn’t pull it back in.  I was practically sitting on my hands so I wouldn’t call or text him. 

I began to remember last year and how completely “dead” I was.  Back when all the crap started with Douche, I was urged to start writing a journal.  I did so just about every day for June and July.  I wrote down all of the things that I couldn’t say to him, because he either wouldn’t take my calls or wouldn’t listen.  It did help.  I hadn’t gone back and read any of the pages until last night.  I was able to read the words and remember what it felt like when I wrote them.  By the same token, I realized that I’m not that girl anymore.  Perhaps It’s Me Penelope’s post inspired this, who knows?

The following is an excerpt from my journal, dated 6/6/07:

Saw Douche today.  He actually showed up at Little J’s game tonight.  He wanted his ACU cap (he’s a soldier) and a list of all our expenses.  I was firm with him and tried not to let him manipulate me.  I do still feel sorry for him*.  He’s so lost right now.  Lost to me, lost to the boys, lost to his family, even himself. 

I miss him so much and it’s hard to be so close to him and not be able to touch him or really even talk to him about what matters.  He still doesn’t think he owes me an explanation for what he’s done.  I really do want that and he still can’t face up to it.**  That makes me so angry and so hurt that he can’t even do that for me.  I realize now that he never loved me the same way I loved him.  He took me for granted from day one without a thought as to what he was doing. 

I hate that my kids are going through this.  I hate it that no one in his family has called to check on us.  I don’t want to lose them.  I love them as my own. 

He never respected me, not from the beginning.  I need a man who will respect me and love me for who I am, not who he wishes I were.  An honest man who I won’t have to wonder if he’s actually telling me the truth when I ask him a question.  Someone who won’t drag my boys down if they make a mistake at school or in the ballgame.

I hope I can be friends with Michael one day because I love him.  I have since I was 14 years old.  I think it will take a long time, though.

*Man, I’m a sucker.

**He still has yet to admit anything, even while remarried and with a baby on the way, he is still denying they are married.  DOUCHEBAG!

 

I still can’t believe how blind I was all those years!  Reading this did give me some perspective, though.  I have been through worse.  This breakup with HotD has been somewhat easy, except at night when I would’ve been talking to him.  I guess it’s like any other addiction, the habit is hard to break.  I feel better today.

While typing this here, I realize again that I am so glad to be done with Douche, at least on a day to day basis.  Since he’s a soldier, he lives in Alabama while I live in Indiana with my family.  I’ve only had to see him at Christmas and on Spring Break, and I’ll have to see him in the summer.  I’m looking forward to setting eyes on the c*nt in all her pregnant, stretch-marked, water retaining, splendor.  I’ve never met the ho in person before.  You can be damn sure I’ll be looking my best when I meet her, though.  Small victories, eh?

 <——-Words of wisdom, those are!