I deleted everything prior to this. I'm sorry for anyone that was following along. At some point, it just got embarrassing how much credence I was putting into retelling this atrocity.
I don't even want to write about it. I just can't bring myself to even associate words with what happened. Maybe at some point I'll be able to finish that story, but right now, other things are going on.
Achievements unlocked:
1. Was able to start buying groceries again
2. Did Yoga.
3. Crying in the bathroom at work went from 3 times a day down to once a week
4. Still crying in the shower. But that's also just my secret cry spot...so I can't really tell if it's Ian related or just my time to be a human. Whatever.
5. Starting constructing leather goods again. This was a big one. All my creativity just dried the fuck up after that.
So all in all, I'm moving forward. Months and months pass, and it all gets easier.
Every now and then, I'll be walking down the street, or just sitting on my couch, and some memory or sentence or sound will pop into my head. I can hear it/see it like the light of day and it hits me like a truck. Sometimes I even hear myself make a sound like you banged your elbow. I'm just minding my own business and then BOOM 'AAARRGGG OMGGG' and I'm like 'WTF' I was enjoying this commercial about pop tarts, I don't want to think about XXXX. Those episodes are happening less and less as well.
Time is a weird thing. When I think back to that first day after my life imploded, I wonder how I even made it. I mean it was THAT bad, and it hurt THAT much. I spent weeks just getting up, throwing myself into work, leaving work, and getting drunk until I passed out. No thinking required. This was my life. Until one day, I started drinking less, and then something made me laugh, and then I started eating, and all of a sudden I'm looking back on it.
Sometimes I have dreams that I'm still sitting there on the side of the road, hunched down, crying, in that beautiful dress. But even those dreams are starting to fade away.
I do however have a real problem now with dating in general. Every time someone gets close, I am terrified. Even physically. I recoil back a lot, and I have received a number of complaints that I am emotionally unfeeling. This is not the case, I think I feel too much, so I pull away. Something seems real, I will analyze it until I systematically destroy it. That's my favorite really. I want to figure people out and their intentions so badly that I will pull something apart down to the smallest fibers and then blow them away. I irritate myself with how much shit that I can't just let go. If someone raises the bar, I see it, and raise it again. They get loud, I get louder. They want to win, I want to win more. I don't know if it's because of being on my own since 14, that I see everyone I don't know as a potential threat or enemy. I think they will take things from me. So when I fight, I have this innate habit of going right for the throat. If they are cruising at an argument altitude of 30,000 feet, I will launch us into outer space just to stop the argument and win. It's terrible really. I can see myself doing it, and I can't stop. I even know when it's about to happen, I can feel the switch in my brain go off, and then it's take no prisoners, no holes barred, but them down. And I do, every time.
This is part of the reason I'm eating alone tonight. Sadly, this is also what makes me the ruthless, cunning, cutthroat business person. I mean, how do you win?
It's almost Halloween. I'm going as little red riding hood. I'm also getting pretty good at reading Spanish. Those things are unrelated, but I thought I'd leave it on a high note.
