"Then stop feeling bad for yourself and start getting mad at him for making you feel this way. He did this to you. Anger is the only way. Then you will be rational and accepting. But the anger will help you through."
Anger. It's the 2nd stage of grief. Everyone tells me that I need to feel angry in order to move on. Every now and then I feel twinges of anger, but it's like my heart is holding onto the sadness with a pair of vice grips. What happens when I get mad? What good is getting mad going to do for me? I get it. The more and more I continue to feel sad about the situation, the less likely I am to move on and work on me. I'm not entirely sure I am ready to let go. Letting go means it's really over. As much as I don't want it to be over, I have to accept that it's over.
We're going nowhere fast we've reached the climax. We're together now we're undone. Won't commit so we choose to run away. Do we separate? Won't give in so we both gave up. Can't take it back. It's too late. We've reached the climax, climax.
I feel like that is what happened. We grew up, and he got his dream job. Had the world at his feet, a girl, new house, new car, puppy, lots of friends and the image that girls lust after. What happens when you have the world at your feet? You take everything for granted. You're on top of the world. You go out with your friends and live the life, while keeping the rest of it tucked away in your back pocket. Eventually, maybe the grass seems greener on the other side. There is so much out there that is unknown...and so...without consequences---he let me go because at the end of the day, being able to live life without the thought of consequence looming in the background is much easier than doing something that will hurt that other person. I could sit here and try to rationalize his thought and action until I am blue in the face. At the end of the day, I'm alone---and I have to start over completely.
Yesterday I went to look at townhomes, because I thought perhaps it would make me feel better. It made me feel worse. I don't know why it made me feel worse. I think that it hurt because I had all of that. The house---the boy---and now it is gone. The thing is, I'm getting tired of myself and my own thoughts. I can imagine that everyone else is getting tired of my thoughts and emotions as well. Thus, I see the only solution to all of this is, in fact anger. With anger though come the questions, but most of them start with...
How dare you....
How can you....
So I move on with anger. No matter how badly I want to be angry, my heart does not fully want to let my mind be angry.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Thursday, November 1, 2012
In the end-
In 3 days it will have been a week since I spoke with him. Well, really exchanged text messages with him. Lately, I have been finding it easy to act like my old 'self' again. Put a smile on my face, and tuck away the pain until I can deal with it. As of late, I've been trying to shut my brain off. No matter how hard I try, it seems as though that burning sensation, that twinge of pain in my chest continues to make itself present. Sometimes I wish that I could hand someone a fire extinguisher, so they could just numb that pain--that fire burning in my chest. Alas, it's just one of the many things I am going to have to learn to live with as I go through this.
This week has been better for me. I think I have cut myself down to crying only one time a day. Which, compared to last week, is a pretty big deal. Yesterday was tough. I rented a storage unit, so that I could push our memories into a 10x10 square for a bit. Whether or not this strategy will really work, I am unsure. Nevertheless, we trucked the furniture and various plastic totes up into that storage unit. We saved the pictures for last. I grabbed the large frames wrapped in plastic garbage bags, each of them labeled "I don't wanna see" in Stephanie's handwriting. All I wanted to do was look at them. Why? It's like I am glutton for punishment....
I just can't stop.
That is what got me. The pictures. After the storage unit, it was like a flood of everything returning. Again, all I wanted to do was call him---but that wouldn't do me any good......
More to come.....have to go to work and continue onward. As much as I could sit here and ramble on and on for hours.
This week has been better for me. I think I have cut myself down to crying only one time a day. Which, compared to last week, is a pretty big deal. Yesterday was tough. I rented a storage unit, so that I could push our memories into a 10x10 square for a bit. Whether or not this strategy will really work, I am unsure. Nevertheless, we trucked the furniture and various plastic totes up into that storage unit. We saved the pictures for last. I grabbed the large frames wrapped in plastic garbage bags, each of them labeled "I don't wanna see" in Stephanie's handwriting. All I wanted to do was look at them. Why? It's like I am glutton for punishment....
I just can't stop.
That is what got me. The pictures. After the storage unit, it was like a flood of everything returning. Again, all I wanted to do was call him---but that wouldn't do me any good......
More to come.....have to go to work and continue onward. As much as I could sit here and ramble on and on for hours.
Monday, October 29, 2012
You're doing all these things out of desparation--you're going through six degrees of separation
Trying to fix yourself is the first step. You want to do so much to make the pain go away. There is a constant search for the answers. You ask all the right questions, but receive all of the wrong answers. In the end, there is no right answer to explain what you're feeling. Everything around you seems so perfect, in the sense that everyone seems to be so happy. Of course it is foolish and silly to think that every single person in your life is currently happy. There is so much more pain going on in the world around you. Yet, there's only one thing you can focus on--and it's that dull pain in your chest that doesn't ever go away.
You see, there is no starting over without finding closure. Is that what I really want? Closure of this relationship, of this love? At this point I don't know what I want.
Today I took Monroe for a walk around the neighborhood. As I walked down the street, I passed Frenchy's house and Rezgar's house. I walked down to the lake, then around to our old high school bus stop. As I did, it was like my past echoed behind me. I could hear conversations that I might have had with Francesca our Freshman year in high school. I could hear the sound of Christopher's Camaro as we did his paper route in the pouring rain. Those were all good memories, but eventually my memories drifted off to him and the first time I took him around the neighborhood.
Right now my feelings drift in and out. One moment, I am sad...crying hysterically. Another moment I am numb and don't feel anything. What I really want to understand, is this: If someone 'loves' you--then how can they make a choice to let you go? Let everything you have had for the past six years go? I can't help but wonder what he is doing, and if he is feeling as sad as I am. All of that wondering is futile. Until I can get that through my thick skull--I'm not sure how to move on. I've been told I need to do things that I love. Well, here we are, writing. In all honesty, I have not written like this in quite some time. I guess the allure around writing a blog is that someone can read your thoughts. It's my way of getting it all out without interruption. Other things that were suggested to me:
At the end of the day, I'm alone. Yes, I have plenty of family and friends who both love and care about me. It's somehow different, though. I guess, at this point, exactly a week after my world seemingly collapsed right around me--I have entered the third stage of grief. Last week--I had some contact with him, each interaction less and less satisfying. Many of you would be disappointed to know, that during one of those interactions I seemed to definitely enter stage three--and that is where I hover.....
Stage 3: Bargaining
The normal reaction to feelings of helplessness and vulnerability is often a need to gain control. You find yourself asking many questions, often beginning with "What If"? Each "What If" question holding a different scenario that might have had a different end result than the one you're feeling/experiencing now. Secretly, we may make a secret deal with God or our higher power in order to postpone the inevitable. This is a weaker line of defense to protect us from the painful reality.
Yes, ladies and gentleman. I sank that low. No, I didn't beg God to help the one change his mind about our relationship and where it should head. Nope. I made a last ditch effort to try and fix what was broken. Or at least what he thought was broken. In the end, I put it on me (as I do with everything in my life) and pleaded. Expressed my willingness to go the extra mile, and try harder. I didn't get the answer I was looking for. Which is why, someone who is very close to my heart begged and pleaded with me to not contact him; because when all was said and done--I wasn't going to get the answer I was hoping for. It's like I took the knife he inserted into my heart...and finished the job, and just like that---in the moment when you know the end is near life flashes before your eyes.....
Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tightly........
You see, there is no starting over without finding closure. Is that what I really want? Closure of this relationship, of this love? At this point I don't know what I want.
Today I took Monroe for a walk around the neighborhood. As I walked down the street, I passed Frenchy's house and Rezgar's house. I walked down to the lake, then around to our old high school bus stop. As I did, it was like my past echoed behind me. I could hear conversations that I might have had with Francesca our Freshman year in high school. I could hear the sound of Christopher's Camaro as we did his paper route in the pouring rain. Those were all good memories, but eventually my memories drifted off to him and the first time I took him around the neighborhood.
Right now my feelings drift in and out. One moment, I am sad...crying hysterically. Another moment I am numb and don't feel anything. What I really want to understand, is this: If someone 'loves' you--then how can they make a choice to let you go? Let everything you have had for the past six years go? I can't help but wonder what he is doing, and if he is feeling as sad as I am. All of that wondering is futile. Until I can get that through my thick skull--I'm not sure how to move on. I've been told I need to do things that I love. Well, here we are, writing. In all honesty, I have not written like this in quite some time. I guess the allure around writing a blog is that someone can read your thoughts. It's my way of getting it all out without interruption. Other things that were suggested to me:
- Take a class
- Delve into your work
- Go to the gym
- Spend time with friends
- Keep yourself busy
At the end of the day, I'm alone. Yes, I have plenty of family and friends who both love and care about me. It's somehow different, though. I guess, at this point, exactly a week after my world seemingly collapsed right around me--I have entered the third stage of grief. Last week--I had some contact with him, each interaction less and less satisfying. Many of you would be disappointed to know, that during one of those interactions I seemed to definitely enter stage three--and that is where I hover.....
Stage 3: Bargaining
The normal reaction to feelings of helplessness and vulnerability is often a need to gain control. You find yourself asking many questions, often beginning with "What If"? Each "What If" question holding a different scenario that might have had a different end result than the one you're feeling/experiencing now. Secretly, we may make a secret deal with God or our higher power in order to postpone the inevitable. This is a weaker line of defense to protect us from the painful reality.
Yes, ladies and gentleman. I sank that low. No, I didn't beg God to help the one change his mind about our relationship and where it should head. Nope. I made a last ditch effort to try and fix what was broken. Or at least what he thought was broken. In the end, I put it on me (as I do with everything in my life) and pleaded. Expressed my willingness to go the extra mile, and try harder. I didn't get the answer I was looking for. Which is why, someone who is very close to my heart begged and pleaded with me to not contact him; because when all was said and done--I wasn't going to get the answer I was hoping for. It's like I took the knife he inserted into my heart...and finished the job, and just like that---in the moment when you know the end is near life flashes before your eyes.....
Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tightly........
Sunday, October 28, 2012
If happy ever after did exist....
6:45am
The sound of the alarm came too early. Literally. The kid's alarm and it's familiar increasing beeps woke me up from the other side of the wall. Reality set in, again. No, I was not in the house I helped to make 'our own' with him. I was in the room I slept in and grew up in until I left for college. Then it hit me....in the next hour I would be leaving this room---not to go back home to stay, but to pack up the life I have been living for the past six years.
8:00am
Jimena picks me up--and I begin the process of preparing myself for the finality of it all.
9:00am
Arrival. Open garage door, walk through the door and move from room to room. Check bookshelves. Go through desk. DVD's. Hard to breathe. Memories, memories, memories. Move to the kitchen, pack up the tools of the trade. Spare rooms. Pack up my crafts anything else.
10:00am-The Master Bedroom
Here I stand looking at a bed we once shared. I can see that his side of the bed is disheveled from where he slept last night. Water glasses on the nightstand, half sipped out of---per the usual. His pajama pants and shorts hanging on the tall dresser knobs, where he always puts them. My side of the bed is neatly covered. It's almost as if he has been ever so careful to not cross the invisible line in the middle of the bed. It's like a memorial to a person who has died. All I want to do is run to his side of the bed, hug his pillows and take him all in. Then I remember, that it isn't my bed anymore. Just as it isn't my house anymore. Just as he isn't mine to take in anymore. As I typed the last sentence, I had to take a moment to process what I had just said.
Enter Mom, Jimena and Stephanie.....
Thank God for them. They just sort of take charge while I stand there trying to keep myself together. When everything is out and they have gone outside to put things in the truck I stand there and take one last look around. At this point, I have already broken down two times. My entire body is shaking---and honestly--I feel like I am living in a dream. Jimena comes back into the room---and opens my empty closet doors...
"I want him to see this empty closet." She says....
So, I let her do it, and then I stand there crying.
11:45am
Close the garage door---and end a 6 year chapter of my life.
The sound of the alarm came too early. Literally. The kid's alarm and it's familiar increasing beeps woke me up from the other side of the wall. Reality set in, again. No, I was not in the house I helped to make 'our own' with him. I was in the room I slept in and grew up in until I left for college. Then it hit me....in the next hour I would be leaving this room---not to go back home to stay, but to pack up the life I have been living for the past six years.
8:00am
Jimena picks me up--and I begin the process of preparing myself for the finality of it all.
9:00am
Arrival. Open garage door, walk through the door and move from room to room. Check bookshelves. Go through desk. DVD's. Hard to breathe. Memories, memories, memories. Move to the kitchen, pack up the tools of the trade. Spare rooms. Pack up my crafts anything else.
10:00am-The Master Bedroom
Here I stand looking at a bed we once shared. I can see that his side of the bed is disheveled from where he slept last night. Water glasses on the nightstand, half sipped out of---per the usual. His pajama pants and shorts hanging on the tall dresser knobs, where he always puts them. My side of the bed is neatly covered. It's almost as if he has been ever so careful to not cross the invisible line in the middle of the bed. It's like a memorial to a person who has died. All I want to do is run to his side of the bed, hug his pillows and take him all in. Then I remember, that it isn't my bed anymore. Just as it isn't my house anymore. Just as he isn't mine to take in anymore. As I typed the last sentence, I had to take a moment to process what I had just said.
Enter Mom, Jimena and Stephanie.....
Thank God for them. They just sort of take charge while I stand there trying to keep myself together. When everything is out and they have gone outside to put things in the truck I stand there and take one last look around. At this point, I have already broken down two times. My entire body is shaking---and honestly--I feel like I am living in a dream. Jimena comes back into the room---and opens my empty closet doors...
"I want him to see this empty closet." She says....
So, I let her do it, and then I stand there crying.
11:45am
Close the garage door---and end a 6 year chapter of my life.
-Break-
After moving everything out yesterday---something inside of me felt relieved. By the end of the night, however--that relief had subsided and the reality of all this came back for a visit. As my dad said--when he was trying to get me to move on:
It's Over. He does not want you anymore.
Some of you might think that is mean for Dad to say. It's just his own way of dealing with things. I know that there are many individuals in this world who deal with break-ups every single day. They hurt. You cry, you feel lost, shallow, empty, hopeless. You ask questions that you know you're never going to get the answer to. All of these behaviors, all of these thoughts are normal. I woke up at 6am, after having a dream that he was embracing me. He was hugging me and telling me he was sorry, but he just can't give me what I want. That was my brain (the rational side of it at least), telling me that I need to move on---because I know in my heart of hearts.....
This is over. He does not want me anymore.
As hard as that is for a person to accept....it is the bare truth. Yet, I still keep asking questions---like a kid who doesn't get a math problem. The math is there, it's logical and calculated. There is an answer, and it is the only definitive answer you can get. I see the answer, but I'm not fully understanding how we arrived at it.
For the past week (which has felt like an entire year), everyone has been telling me that I now need to work on myself. Which, I know that I have needed to do for some time. He has tried to tell me that he knows I need to work on myself. When I gained weight, I wasn't happy. I never did anything about it. Maybe he got tired of me being me---or the way I had been for the past three or so years. I feel like I did this somehow. Now, he is gone.
This broken record has to end now........
Friday, October 26, 2012
Oh, darlin' don't you ever grow up
I've found that one of the most therapeutic things for me is to be with my 'niece' and 'nephews'
I pray that Mia never has to deal with what I'm feeling right now.......but unfortunately I know that this is a part of life. That at one time or another everyone experiences something this in one form or another. It's scary shit. As a parent, we can only hope that we can protect our children from every kind of pain and misery in this world. The truth is....the world is an ugly place, and sooner or later we are all faces with that reality.
As time goes on and I continue to try and heal myself....I know that someday I can sit my daughter down (if I am blessed to have one) and tell her of a love I thought was never ending. Then I will tell her to be careful. She may want to give every single piece of her and she will want to love like there is nothing holding her back. It is okay to let love take you. But sometimes it can blind you...and you start to lose sight of yourself. It's normal to give very single part of yourself to someone. Just be careful......
I pray that Mia never has to deal with what I'm feeling right now.......but unfortunately I know that this is a part of life. That at one time or another everyone experiences something this in one form or another. It's scary shit. As a parent, we can only hope that we can protect our children from every kind of pain and misery in this world. The truth is....the world is an ugly place, and sooner or later we are all faces with that reality.
As time goes on and I continue to try and heal myself....I know that someday I can sit my daughter down (if I am blessed to have one) and tell her of a love I thought was never ending. Then I will tell her to be careful. She may want to give every single piece of her and she will want to love like there is nothing holding her back. It is okay to let love take you. But sometimes it can blind you...and you start to lose sight of yourself. It's normal to give very single part of yourself to someone. Just be careful......
She is dancing away...from you now...
Day 4. I still feel the way that I felt yesterday. However, the numbness has soaked into all of my thoughts, and I guess I really don't think about anything other than what I have to. You would all be pleased to know that I ate half of a bagel today. I'm trying to keep it down. Perhaps I'm too dramatic. Perhaps I am being too pathetic, too 'Oh God, pity me.' I know that isn't what he is feeling. Moreover, what is caring about what he is feeling going to do for me? It's just something that is innate...something that is programmed into me. I don't want to care, but I do. I do know what I need to do, even if it means I can't talk to some people anymore---because they just make me wonder what he is doing and how he is feeling. I know that they will be there for him, because they love him. It's why everything seems so cold now. I have to let go of that, let go of them too in this process.
So, what's the newest hurt for today? I guess it is the thought that it's like I disappeared to him. I fear tomorrow. The thought of going tomorrow to pack everything up is reminiscent of the way I used to feel when I know I had to get a shot. Your heart is beating fast, you sweat, it's all you can think about. As the time gets nearer and nearer, that sick feeling in your stomach continues to grow. Tomorrow, I have to walk into a house---that we fixed up and painted and made our own. Everything in there was something that we built. Tomorrow, I have to go in that house and remove the couches that he wants to keep in there until he can sell the house. This is going to make him mad, mostly because those were "A gift given to us." Same thing with the grill, and the patio furniture and many other things. I'm nervous as fuck. Let's get it out there, shall we? Nervous as fuck. Say it again............
Nervous as fuck.
Why? I'm nervous because I know he isn't going to be happy when he comes home and sees that those things are going to be gone. Why do I care? I guess I don't want to fight. I don't want there to be anymore disappointment surrounding this than there already is. I know that doesn't mean I have to bend over backwards to him. I didn't make this choice. My biggest fear, is that when I get there, he will have taken pictures down. Why does that scare me so much?
Regardless of that fact, when you share so much with someone, and it seems like they are conflicted themselves, that makes it harder. Sure, he is going to be cocky of the fact that he did this (in front of her friends)....
"I guess she deleted her Facebook because setting her status to 'single' was too hard to bear."
How can you say one thing, and then say another to contradict it?
I guess he deleted me out of his life because coping with this is too hard to bear.
Then again maybe he feels nothing. If that's true then so be it. As much as that makes me want to run to the bathroom and throw this bagel up.......
So, what's the newest hurt for today? I guess it is the thought that it's like I disappeared to him. I fear tomorrow. The thought of going tomorrow to pack everything up is reminiscent of the way I used to feel when I know I had to get a shot. Your heart is beating fast, you sweat, it's all you can think about. As the time gets nearer and nearer, that sick feeling in your stomach continues to grow. Tomorrow, I have to walk into a house---that we fixed up and painted and made our own. Everything in there was something that we built. Tomorrow, I have to go in that house and remove the couches that he wants to keep in there until he can sell the house. This is going to make him mad, mostly because those were "A gift given to us." Same thing with the grill, and the patio furniture and many other things. I'm nervous as fuck. Let's get it out there, shall we? Nervous as fuck. Say it again............
Nervous as fuck.
Why? I'm nervous because I know he isn't going to be happy when he comes home and sees that those things are going to be gone. Why do I care? I guess I don't want to fight. I don't want there to be anymore disappointment surrounding this than there already is. I know that doesn't mean I have to bend over backwards to him. I didn't make this choice. My biggest fear, is that when I get there, he will have taken pictures down. Why does that scare me so much?
Regardless of that fact, when you share so much with someone, and it seems like they are conflicted themselves, that makes it harder. Sure, he is going to be cocky of the fact that he did this (in front of her friends)....
"I guess she deleted her Facebook because setting her status to 'single' was too hard to bear."
How can you say one thing, and then say another to contradict it?
I guess he deleted me out of his life because coping with this is too hard to bear.
Then again maybe he feels nothing. If that's true then so be it. As much as that makes me want to run to the bathroom and throw this bagel up.......
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Just Go Numb
Day three. These have been hands down, the LONGEST three days of my life. Throughout these three days, I have done so much thinking and pondering---so much wishing and hoping. So much reminiscing. Truth is, remembering really hurts. Everyone tells me to look at the good and the bad, because the past six years of my life have truly been a learning experience. Yes, they may have been. There have been a lot of birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, vacations---kisses, hugs, embraces and hand holding. Looks where you just know when someone loves you. All of that is gone now. Gone with him. Right now, it's almost as if it was all a dream. A dream, I would want to forget for now, because thinking of the good---and even the bad hurts too much. My heart hurts----there is this constant feeling inside of me, a feeling of hurt. All I want to feel is numb. It's like Usher says "Shake it off, let it go, I don't care anymore. Just go numb. You never know until you let go."
I don't want to feel anything right now. Right now, I kind of want to just do what I have to in order to survive. I know that includes eating and sleeping and going to work. I've been sleeping, and I have been going to work. In fact, sleeping has become my favorite part of the day. When I wake up in the morning, I cannot wait until the moment I can get into bed and close my eyes. Even then I dream of him. So he still gets me that way. Hopefully someday my brain can shut him off and I can just sleep. I don't want any dreams. I just want emptiness.
Everyone says I need to stop asking the question "why" or "how." What could I have done differently? There is no answer to that, and as much as I want him to know that I would have worked towards making whatever we had work---I know now that in all essence he wants to be him for awhile.
As I continue to look at the stages of grief, I guess I haven't passed into stage two yet. Really, I don't know if I want to deal with stage two:
2. Anger: As the masking effects of denial and isolation begin to wear, reality and its pain re-emerge. We are not ready. The intense emotion is deflected from our vulnerable core, redirected and expressed as anger. The anger may be aimed at intimate objects, complete strangers, friends or family. Anger may be directed at the one we love. Rationally, we know this person is not to be blamed. Emotionally, however, may may resent the person for causing this pain or for leaving us. We feel guilt for being angry, and this makes us more angry.
Much of that relates to someone who has passed....but either way it feels like the same concept.
So for now-----I go numb--and I wait for Saturday---when I have to go to the home that we built together, and pack up what was once my life---and right now---that hurts more than anything.
I don't want to feel anything right now. Right now, I kind of want to just do what I have to in order to survive. I know that includes eating and sleeping and going to work. I've been sleeping, and I have been going to work. In fact, sleeping has become my favorite part of the day. When I wake up in the morning, I cannot wait until the moment I can get into bed and close my eyes. Even then I dream of him. So he still gets me that way. Hopefully someday my brain can shut him off and I can just sleep. I don't want any dreams. I just want emptiness.
Everyone says I need to stop asking the question "why" or "how." What could I have done differently? There is no answer to that, and as much as I want him to know that I would have worked towards making whatever we had work---I know now that in all essence he wants to be him for awhile.
As I continue to look at the stages of grief, I guess I haven't passed into stage two yet. Really, I don't know if I want to deal with stage two:
2. Anger: As the masking effects of denial and isolation begin to wear, reality and its pain re-emerge. We are not ready. The intense emotion is deflected from our vulnerable core, redirected and expressed as anger. The anger may be aimed at intimate objects, complete strangers, friends or family. Anger may be directed at the one we love. Rationally, we know this person is not to be blamed. Emotionally, however, may may resent the person for causing this pain or for leaving us. We feel guilt for being angry, and this makes us more angry.
Much of that relates to someone who has passed....but either way it feels like the same concept.
So for now-----I go numb--and I wait for Saturday---when I have to go to the home that we built together, and pack up what was once my life---and right now---that hurts more than anything.
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