Winter Blues

I go for my certification in just a few days.

After waiting a year and a half  for the  green light, I'm finally able to take the exam that will give me the slight extra responsibility at work. I'll be thankful I won't have to be buried in pharmacological texts.

Add that stress to my normal winter funk... I really hate this time of year. The holidays remind  most people of family. All it makes me think of is death. We're coming up on three years without my brother. His suicide just magnifies my depression and suicidal thoughts.

Just before Thanksgiving I relapsed. It had been over a year since I had hurt myself. Then I spent one month  cutting myself just about everyday. I didn't tell anyone until last night. The only reason I even told him was the possibility of him seeing my scars the next time I see him...

I seriously hate winter.

Another Spiral

So here we are. Restriction is over and it seems I've gotten the answer to my worries.

There's been no contact. No phone call, no text returning mine, no meeting. Appears all my fears were well founded and are now confirmed. I've put myself into the exact situation I didn't want to be in. I swore off emotions months ago so I wouldn't have to feel like I do now. But he wore me down and broke through the walls I had up.

I'm sitting here crying my eyes out, though I'll blame that on the Notebook, listening to depressing country songs, and thinking about everything I did wrong and those I've loved in the past. Granted I'm not in love currently, that's where my mind tends to go. Quite often in fact.

Perhaps I'm thinking over past loves because I've been talking to one recently. He was the last serious relationship I had and apparently I made an impression. We were good for each other and surprisingly I'm a compassionate and considerate girlfriend. But we wanted different things with our lives and it never would have gone further.

Then I think about the last person I fell for, which didn't end well. I suppose that's when my walls began to go up. I fell hard completely only to be crushed. So I don't trust people. Because of him, because of the infamous ex, because of death, because of experience.

I'm fighting the urge to hurt myself. I know where my scalpel is and I want to use it. Not because a boy stood me up. But because of the constant feelings of inadequacy I've had lately. I've been having bouts of depression again. I've been feeling that I'm never going to be good enough or accomplish anything. All I want to do is stay in bed forever and pretend the outside world doesn't exist, it certainly isn't going to miss me.

The screen is beginning to blur more and more as the tears start to fall again. I don't have really anyone to talk to. I have some friends, but no one I could call at 1am and just cry to. I honestly don't think I have anyone that would be there for me through anything. I would be there for them, but probably not for me.

I'm leaving these headphones on and leaving my phone across the room. I'm blocking it all out.

My Inner Turmoil Of The Moment

Well here we are on day 32 of 45 and I'm starting to doubt my decision to go ahead with a relationship. I honestly think I'm too much of an emotional wreck to drag another person that deeply into my world. Over the last couple days I've had these powerful depressive moods where all I want to do is cry and think about how insignificant in the world. I'm beginning to feel as though all the important people in my life are disappearing and I don't seem to be handling that well. I'm still heavily mourning the death of my friend and now the weird emotional attachments to my Marine are starting to feel strange.

In two weeks I might hear from him. I'm afraid I won't, that he forgot about me. On the other hand, I'm kind of hoping he has forgotten about me. It'll save me some emotional turmoil. It'll save me all the effort I'd need to figure out if I'm ready to bring someone in. I miss him more than anything. I love his laugh and his ease at making me laugh. I feel comfortable with him and everything we've done. But love, commitment, long term... Those concepts terrify me. Just thinking about it makes me want to run for the hills and pretend it was never brought up. How I'm to get over this, I suppose time is the only answer. Unless of course someone out there has some secret remedy they could share.

If I pretend I don't have these feelings of longing or romance, if I pretend that I'm not still miserable about death, then I appear happy. I can joke around and flirt with randoms. I can live out my day as though I have no serious concerns or cares. I like that world. The oblivious world I have created for myself. It's rather nice here.

Delayed Ramblings

So I'm kind of an emotional wreck nowadays. Anything that resembles commitment scares me off. A guy asking me for a date has me making excuses, fake boyfriends. I don't want to let anyone else in. I'm afraid of giving someone every weapon they need to destroy everything I am. Because of this, I put all stock into the physical. If I'm craving closeness, I attempt to get someone in bed. Though that hasn't worked yet, but I have tried. I envision myself naked with more people than I care to admit.

I'm still blaming Rob's death on love and commitment no matter how wrong that is. I honestly believe he would still be alive if not for his feelings for someone. The accident was a result of a love spat and his eventual death was him giving up. I'm not ready to die, no matter how many times I visualize it. The days of me wanting to live greatly outnumber the days I consider driving into oncoming traffic.

I'm getting lonely. Lately I've actually been getting hours and been working as much as I can. I've been trying to keep busy, keep my mind occupied. But in those slow moments when I'm driving or when Facebook shows me something about Rob, I have to fight back tears. I have to force myself to stop picturing our last moments together, our last conversation. I didn't think he was so important to me until he was gone.

I want nothing more than to cuddle in bed with someone who cares about me. I want to be wanted. I'm being pretty damn self destructive with this anti commitment and love thing I'm going through. The people I want to be with are all in Massachusetts and I would kill for the chance to see them again. Husband is offering to pay for my plane ticket up there and to take care of me for a week. I'm currently trying to figure out if I could afford to take a week off work. If I have to live off ramen for awhile, I'm completely willing.

I want my family back.

*I was just about to post this but got pulled to Facebook for some reason or another. On my profile, Rob is the first person listed. I can kill myself now.

Painful Coping

I've been in one of my moods today. I'm not sure if it's still the stress of this past weekend or if I'm just having another manic moment. I was sitting on my couch today and I just couldn't relax. I was sitting cross legged, back straight, with my hands on my knees, just staring into nothingness. The only things really going through my mind weren't good ones, at all. I just kept itching to get out a knife. It's been a long time since I've gotten the urge to hurt myself and I don't really like it.

I was always a depressed kid. In eighth grade, one of my friends explained cutting to me and for some reason it just made sense. I just started cutting myself and it actually helped. Every time I was upset that year, I'd cut myself and make it better. That caused a blow out with the group of friends I had at the time. They turned me in to the counselor and almost called my mother. I spent a week in the counselor's office explaining why I felt that was the only way to deal with my stress. I stopped for a little while after that, six months a least. Then the next thing happened and I fell back into the pattern.

I had two serious relationships in high school and I always tried to hid it as long as possible. I'm not sure if the first ever knew, or if he did he didn't make too big a deal of it. I think he just tried to make sure I was happy to avoid me hurting myself. Mike, well he knew. He threatened to dump me once or twice because of it. He always considered me pretty damn emo and wouldn't be with someone who hurt themself in such a way. So I did stop, as long as I was with him. I didn't start back up again until spring semester of college. One day things became too much and I took a scalpel to my thigh. I learned a long time ago the wrist just calls attention, I went for easier spots to hide.

Since then, I've tried to fight the urge. Most times I win, but not always. I don't think most people understand the compulsion. Yes, for some people it's just a phase or a cry for attention, but that's not always the case. For me, it was something more. The compulsion isn't just something you can get over, it's something you'll always carry with you. It's the inability to get certain emotions out in a typical or healthy way so you create an outlet. Sometimes I feel a pain so deep in my chest I can't get it out, I don't know why I'm so upset. So I cut myself. I make myself hurt in a more tangible way so I can explain it easier. I know it's not healthy and I've been trying to control it since I was fourteen.

I'm not exactly sure where I was going with this post or what I was trying to explain. But there it is. You've all now become privy to something I've hid for years.

Fuuuuuuuck

Disclaimer: This post shall seem abrasive and angry. 

Get in my mindset. Nao.

I am angry.

I want one day where I'm not plagued by extreme emotions. One day where I don't want to either break down in tears or punch someone in their fucking face. I really want to bury my fist in someone's fucking face, legit. I'm getting pretty damn sick of my past coming back to fuck with me. I'm getting really fucking sick of the few times I actually fell for someone to bite me in my ass. At least the weather is agreeing with me, hello random torrential downpour of epic proportions. I never should have gotten engaged in high school like a fucking child. Because you know, it only gave him that much more power to pop up out of nowhere today to let me know he's engaged. Fuck you douchebag, like I fucking needed to know that. So lucky I'm not on Cape right now. My car would be on top of you.

Seriously, the night I turn down getting trashed. I'm being punished, I really am. I just need to go outside, sit in the thunderstorm and let my nerves calm down, because this isn't helping as much as I hoped. Angry sex, that's what I need. Where the fuck is Shane when I need him. Or any other attractive guy? Fuck this shit. 

If you don't hear back from me soon, I'm nursing a broken hand.

Fallen Tears Once Again

So I cried myself asleep again last night. Though it was 3:30am when I finally said fuck and closed my laptop, refusing to talk anymore. I was fighting back tears as it was during the conversation with him, but I wasn't going to cry talking to him. If I didn't leave my vodka at Andy's, I would've been chugging that last night. I was just completely miserable.

When I finally got the sobbing down and I drifted off, I dreamt. For the first time in a while, I dreamed about him. One of my best friends and I went on vacation and were exploring the wonderful city. And I saw him. It was kind of awkward. At least that's how my sleeping brain interpreted it. I don't know how else to explain bumping into someone you loved years later. So yeah, awkward.

As for Operation Distracted Heart, tonight after work I'm going to Andy's yet again. I plan to get plastered and pass out in a wicked inconvenient way. At least I plan to if I don't punch the shit out of Jeremiah if he plans on showing up. We're both working tonight and I hope I get cut first since I closed last night, only fair. Then there's that date with Michael in the morning, if I show up. Then more work! Keeping busy is the only thing keeping me relatively sane right now.

God, I don't know how you guys are putting up with me still. I'm depressing myself.

Conflicted

Here it is after midnight yet again and my mind is wandering. I can't seem to keep it quiet lately. Every thought I have seems to contradict the one before it and I'm starting to get confused. This is probably why I've been drinking so much lately. I've been medicating in the best way I know. I'm fighting with passive aggressiveness, sarcasm, lonliness, heartache, contentment, happiness, and depression. Seemingly all at once.

Jeremiah dealt with me at work by not dealing with me. He barely spoke and gave me one word sentences when he had to. He wouldn't let me go near his station even if he was busy and I had nothing to do. I'm sitting there and offer to help but nope, he's got it. I was so happy when I was sent home early. I didn't want to deal with his attitude the day I was told to be more "bubbly" at work. It's hard to be bubbly when you're being ignored.

I have a date this Saturday with a boy named Michael. I'm not sure if I want a relationship. I mean, the last person I fell in love with lives on a completely different continent which squashed any chance at a real relationship. And I kind of still love him. Okay, not kind of. Totally and completely still love him, I'm just trying really hard to ignore that part of my heart and it's turning out to be harder than I expected. I want to give this boy a chance. Even though he's a year younger than I am and seems kind of desperate for a relationship. I don't want to be a girlfriend of convenience.

On the other hand I'm doing this booty call thing with Shane. We've slept together twice so far, which I've dished about, and I turned him down for tonight. Mainly because of transportation issues. He's hot, I like him, but there is no future there and I know that. He's all about fun and it's not that I'm getting tired of it, I'm just confused about all the other guys in my life. Like my best friend Mike Pop. I love that kid, he's one of my best friends and I couldn't imagine my life without him. But we also have that sort of relationship where we sleep together. He wants to visit, and I can't wait to see him, but I also know how we are together. Basically, we're going to be all over each other, probably drunk. We've been texting a lot recently, trying to plan the visit, but it's also been about what we mean to each other. Mike knows I love him, I tell him all the time, but he knows it's platonically considering he's one of my best friends.

I'm sick of my brain and I'm sick of my heart. I've been ignoring the fact that I've been involving myself with more than one person while I have feelings for a completely different one who wants nothing to do with me. I'm scared. I hate that I'm scared. I was rejected by the first person I loved in years and now I'm not sure if I have it in me to put myself out there like that again, even though I desperately wish someone loved me. I think I'm trying to distract myself with enough guys that I won't become attached to any of them. But somehow I don't see that happening.

Basically, I'm a wreck.

I Hate Myself

I'm finally home after two days and I've washed off the scent of regret. Hopefully I won't cry myself to sleep again tonight or cause another coworker to quit. It's been a tough day to say the least.

I had a date last night. We went to a fun restaurant where the waiter was an adorable gay man and had delicious drinks. I was buzzed by the time I was too stuffed to continue eating. I actually had a good time and we decided to continue the night. We bought more drinks and went to my nana's empty house to watch movies. He immediately tried cuddling with me, kissing me on the cheek and head while I was hanging on to my drink for dear life. Every time he went for my hand I said I was holding hands with my bottle every time he tried to kiss me, I'd turn my head. Eventually though I did give in, made out for two seconds, he choked me, ate me out. I refused to let him touch me afterwards. I was slightly ashamed.

The night contined with the movie. Eventually we cuddled on the couch and I let him stay in the guest bed with me. We hooked up. I had sex with Coworker and I hate myself for it. The second it ended, which was when I pushed him off, I left and shut myself in the bathroom. I immediately started crying. I felt so horrible and mixed up. I'm still in love with someone else and I just boned a guy. I'm horrible. I slept in my nana's room and cried myself to sleep. Violent, heart breaking sobs. I honestly felt so low on the social scale that I didn't feel like I deserved any compassion for the pain I was feeling. When I woke up, he kept asking if I was mad at him. I simply said I was mad at myself and told him to go to work.

Work was awkward to say the least. I didn't want to talk to him, so I kept giving him one word answers. Towards the end of the night, J suddenly asked me what I did to make Coworker quit. I was so confused, I mean this just happened last night. I was teased for the remainder of the night, I got more than one funny looks. Though that could be about the hickey I desperately tried to cover with a pound of coverup. I was later told he was bragging about his back because of the scratches. I was pretty pissed.

I Love The Way You Lie...

The most significant romantic relationship in my life lasted from February 10th 2007 to sometime in late June 2008. It became an on again off again complicated mess with ties being cut multiple times and broken promises of silence for another year. And while the relationship was never abusive, it sort of became the way in that messed up second year. No, never physical. He never hit me or land a hand on me in a hurtful manner. It was that sneakier way of abusing someone, that kind that sticks around much longer than the person. That's why, now over a year later, I'm still feeling it.

I'll take you back to the beginning. We met the summer of '05 and Mike was immediately smitten with me. Unfortunately I had a boyfriend, that was the summer I met my first real love and I couldn't be bothered with another guy. We didn't speak until the following year, around the end of my relationship with my first love. Once it was over, we started hanging out and I began to feel for him what he did for me and we started dating within the month. It seemed like the perfect relationship to me. I was with someone who had been in love with me from the time we met and absolutely adored me. We found out we had walked around each other all our lives. Our fathers knew each other, drug connections but this the early 90's, I lived next door to his grandmother, his best friend was the brother of my brother's best friend. His older sister even baby sat me a few times. To me, it seemed like fate. He became my whole life, he was my best friend, I saw him everyday. So when he proposed that summer, I said yes. I honestly believed we belonged together and we'd spend our lives together. We got in a car accident in the end of August and if I hadn't swerved he would've died. To my surprise, he stayed with me so I started my senior year of high school engaged and was happier than ever.