Milestone

I left the house by myself for the first time today. 

And I helped an old lady having car trouble on the way home. 

The little things really are the big things. 

One Month in Morgantown

This morning has been overwhelmingly educational for me, not because I am remarkably different in any way, but because he was different--when it mattered.

Truthfully, I haven't been doing all that well in this new town. I still have yet to leave the house by myself. I'm not sure I can even work the front door properly. I've been floating chaotically through these weeks, dealing with my own insecurities on top of his increasingly debilitating headaches. Meltdowns hadn't been a problem for a long time, but Halloween was the start of a very bad cycle, it seems. I could go into all of the reasons why I am struggling and how they snowball to the extent that it leaves me in a constant state of pure terror, but that wasn't my point. Everybody gets that about me. But this morning, there was no screaming. He didn't tell me there was no reason for me to be feeling the way I am. He just talked to me, calmly, no matter how argumentative or whiny I became. And it may have taken a little bit, but he did his best not to make the situation worse. It's not that he ever intentionally tried to, but it always seemed to happen. I'm still recovering from that meltdown, which resulted in an alteration of our plans for the day. That is, I'm not venturing out for a six-hour journey by myself today. But maybe Monday. (I doubt Sunday bus service will make any trip on my own feasible.) But I'm okay with that.

The different response to my problem makes me realize just how hard both of us have been working to do and be better. When he tries this hard, I want to try even harder. And with how stressful the rest of life has been, we haven't had much time to just appreciate each other and give each other the attention we deserve when there ISN'T a crisis occurring. Right now, I'm starting to realize things I may have forgotten over the years. I remember that love is hard. Well, real love. Love is easy when everything is going well--when you have all the money you need and maybe a little more, when you're both healthy and fully functional, when you have a comfortable schedule or routine, when you aren't being pulled in a hundred directions, and when you have a clear plan for your future. I remember that, when things go wrong, real love is about more than hugs and kisses and flowers on the table. I remember that, sometimes, real love is about dealing with frustration, anger, disappointment, and more in the context of the relationship. It's about wading through the painful parts together so that the good parts can stay good. None of this is anything revolutionary. But when you live every day of your life with someone, you want it to be that picture-perfect relationship. You want the highlight reel to be every moment of every day, and when it's not, you panic. You panic because you realize that you don't have great models for healthy relationships in your life, and you certainly aren't going to get them from mainstream media, so you often question whether you would even know if things are alright. You panic because your past tells you that any bad thing that happens means that he's thinking of leaving you and just hasn't found a way to tell you yet. You panic because you wonder what you could have done instead of thinking about how to do better. You get the idea.

But today, in the aftermath of a truly painful experience, I can say that things are working. Things are genuinely GOOD. I think my fears will stay with me for a long time. I still have flashbacks. But things are changing. And maybe a month of chaos is enough already. I don't exactly know how to implement the kind of routine I want to have in place, but I know that that would eliminate a lot of other problems. And help me deal with the ones that it can't.

My foot is asleep, and I'm in a bathtub. This is awkward.

Old Feelings

RetailI still don't have a computer, so I suppose typing on my phone while my fiancé tries to sleep off yet another debilitating migraine--a more-than-daily occurrence for the last several months that has dramatically disrupted our lives--will suffice. 

We've been in our new home for two weeks. It doesn't feel like it's been that long, but being sick for a few days and then randomly facing a bout of depression that causes you to sleep for another two might be to blame. Anyway, I'm learning more and more that dichotomous emotions can exist in one person at the exact same time. On the one hand, I feel a multitude of positive emotions related to this move. We are in our new home at last, after all that we have been through both together and separately over the last few months. We are making the place our own. It's the first place that's really felt like home since Dawson. I forgot how long ago that really was. But the feeling of comfort seems to come and go, and it has nothing to do with the actual house at all.

I may be in a new place, but I have to face the same problems I did before. And I don't often feel like i have any new tools with which to face them. I still feel so stuck. Useless. I feel like I will never be anything more. Like I'll never get the chance to be or do what I really want. And I'm afraid that, as more time passes, those fears become more legitimate. I thought that coming here would bring me more opportunities, which is what I always think when I move to a completely new place, or even relatively new. Things seemed promising at first. But nothing but rejection, again. 

So where do I stand exactly? My bank account is almost 800 dollars overdrawn, I haven't worked in my field since college, the jobs I have had have mostly been retail jobs where I've worked part-time for barely above minimum wage, my Sallie Mae loans are still in default, and with all of this, it seems pretty unlikely that I could ever go back to school or get a better job to even attempt to work on going back to school. People tell me to just keep trying, but obviously that hasn't been working. I still want to know at what point it makes more sense to just give up. It's hard not to be depressed, especially when you add to that that I have almost no friends of my own down here and that it's still almost impossible for me to get around at all, let alone on my own time. Sometimes it would be nice to just be able to get to the store or to the gym without each one having to be an all day adventure. 

I stil feel very much lost. I feel like I have no direction, and I have no idea what to do to fix anything or to feel better. 

I feel like my lack of control in its various forms is what really makes me feel so horrible. And, being me, I obsess about it. I can't tell you how many hours of the day at least one of those things is on my mind. Usually, one thought just leads to another...in the span of about twenty seconds. Put on repeat for the rest of the day. 

Today hasn't been as bad as the last few days, but I'm still struggling because of feeling stuck. But I suppose I feel good for now and somewhat hopeful, and I consider that a blessing. 

I worry that I'm just that type of person that can't be helped. I mean, I know the things that tend to make me feel better, but I don't always have the ability to do them when I want or need to, which only worsens the situation. I don't know how to be okay with not being in control of anything. I feel like things will continue to deteriorate if I don't figure this out soon.

But there I go again, always obsessing over the negative and forgetting about the positive altogether. I'm unbelievably happy that we have this beautiful new place with our puppies. We have nice furniture and a decent backyard. We have enough room for everything and then some. We are able to fall asleep next to one another every night. I promised before that I would never take this for granted again. And I am not. But there is a difference between what you have with another person and what you have with yourself. And both are important to me. Without one, I'm not a complete person. 

I recognize all that is going on. But there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to control the way I feel. I can only control my behavior and to some extent my thoughts. But the gut feelings that give rise to those thoughts are pretty potent, and they aren't easily extinguished. They don't even need words to do the damage that they do. 

There's always more to be said, even if it is the same thing over and over again. But someone important needs me right now, and that will always take precedence over my own self-loathing, if that's even an appropriate term to use anymore. I actually like myself. But apparently not many others see what I am worth, unless I'm completely wrong about that too. Here's to hoping I'll figure something out soon. 

Econo Lodge

I have so many events and feelings I need to process in writing, but I won't have a place to do that for a little while. Life is weird. That's about as far as I've gotten with everything. I need a space where I can sit and write and even just have time to think. Spending the last five weeks bouncing from couch to hotel to couch to random person's bed has been exhausting, mentally and physically. When I can finally sit in my own living room again, I will be much more at peace with the world. But I think bouncing around has helped me to avoid feeling depressed about my life, at least as far as my career is concerned. I guess I'm not giving up yet, but I don't know. Part of me feels that I need to learn to accept that this might be the best there is for me. Maybe I just need to let go. I don't want to go into a new town with all these negative thoughts. I've managed to beat everything else, but this is the one thing that keeps dragging me back down. I wish I weren't typing this on my phone in a hotel room. I'm not getting out anything I need to say. Soon. 

Still

glass and notebooks and blood and phone calls
text messages and secret plans
broken bodies and hearts and trust and homes
fear
excitement
hope
loneliness
anxiety
love
cuddles
puzzle pieces and night clubs and couches
friends and ex-friends and everyone else
tears and music and diamond rings
hotels
voices
teddy bears and crayons and sex
466 miles, sometimes
cold pillows and puppy kisses
empty water bottles and Family Guy and journal entries
sweat and protein
wild and wonderful
buses
headaches
naps
money and time
anticipation
still fear
but still
hope.
still love.
still time.

Sheets

It's the blueness of the sheets that hits me every night when I struggle to let go of the fears that keep me tied to the conscious world. That blueness seems so far away now, like those memories of visiting the ocean--letting it speak to me one last time--before driving back into the wilderness. I'd give anything to be wrapped in that coolness again, smelling all the smells that signal life is somewhere nearby. Instead I face the redness each time I walk into the room and it's like a stop sign flashing in my mind. But stop signs don't last forever. Eventually, you take your foot off the brake. You accelerate. You leave the redness behind.

I sit here idling, dreaming of the day I can see and feel and smell blueness again, once and for all and forever.

More Changes

I haven't been able to calm down for two days. It's a restless sort of terrified feeling that is fueled by many different things. It's hard to even know where to begin, but I need to say something.

I spent a good deal of time thinking of a way to move by September, and my opportunity presented itself yesterday morning, when a sublet became available in my future city. The plan was to move on my own, start working, and wait it out until we could move to a larger place together. It wasn't a definite plan because, let's face it, nothing can be these days. But it was enough of a direction for me. I seized the opportunity. Once the guarantor paperwork is filled out and I pay the deposit next Friday, it's finalized. But I spent all day agonizing because it seems that we will be moving separately at first. I suppose it makes more sense to take it slow, and being in the same town will definitely make things easier, but it's still an impossible feeling to completely control. I want to jump back into things like before. I want everything to be right again so desperately. Except I want to do things better, which means that we can't just jump into things and expect everything to be okay. It's going to be slow at first. It's going to be a rebuilding of the trust that had been broken. It's going to be learning to love each other all over again and in new and different ways. And that is kind of exciting. But it's hard when you just want that comfortable life that you had before--the falling asleep together every night, the waking up with the one you love right beside you, the always being able to look forward to seeing his face at the end of the day. And the little things like watching TV together, reading side-by-side, talking about the future, cuddling, being cute in an almost disgusting way, having weekend adventures. I miss all of that as well.

I skipped over a lot of things, but you get the general idea. I'm moving. I'm moving to a brand new place, all on my own, and I've never done that before. At least in Annapolis, I knew my roommate. This time, I don't know the two people with whom I'll be sharing the apartment. I do have a private bathroom, and the place has amenities out the ass, but it's still terrifying. I know this is a step forward for me. But I'm so scared, and I feel like crying all the time lately. I am torn inside because I know what I want, and I can't have it, at least not yet, and I have to make this decision. I know it's the right thing to do to get ahead, and it's also the right thing to do to be able to work on our relationship, but it still feels overwhelming. I keep wondering if these feelings are normal. I'm excited, for sure. But today I've been a wreck. I couldn't sleep at all last night, and my nap earlier today didn't last nearly long enough. I want the pain in my stomach to finally go away. It started to feel like it would when I would be waiting for him. It's not like there is that much of a difference between my situation here and the one I will be moving to, with respect to the relationship. The distance will no longer be a factor. But not being able to see his face every night before bed, when he is right there in the same town--that's going to be brutal.

But ultimately, this move is about moving forward on more than one front. It may not be an ideal situation, but it is still a step in the right direction in terms of our relationship. But that's not the only important thing I'm taking care of by doing this. I'm taking the leap so I can find a job that has the potential for professional growth, which may take some time, but a humiliating/menial job in a city with people I know and closer to so many people I love is better than one in an area where I feel isolated almost all the time. Being able to control my own space, for the most part, will also be a huge relief. This is also an important step because I need to keep in the practice of taking care of my own affairs. I haven't been cooking as much here, which bothers me, because I'm usually so much better about what I put into my body, but I am trying not to be too critical of myself. It's a chance for me to start functioning in the real world again. It's terrifying. I'm afraid of failing, of course. I'm confident. I'm actually more confident than I have ever been about my own abilities. But I cannot shake the fear of the unknown and the anxiety that comes with knowing that there is still a chance that despite all my best efforts, I will fail again.

I feel like I need continual reassurance that I'm doing the right thing. I may be doing this on my own, but that doesn't mean I won't need some sort of support. I'm scared of being in a new place all on my own. I don't know who wouldn't be. I wish I weren't doing this alone. And I may not be for long. But that doesn't mean that I can't. So even when I have doubts, I have to trust that I am going to be okay, no matter what happens.

It's been over a month, and I've survived. I've overcome obstacles that used to seem insurmountable. Normally, when I don't sleep, I don't function well at all the next day. I started panicking when I knew I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep. I had been awake for nearly 24 hours and still had an 8-hour shift plus the journey home to endure. I fought with myself quite a bit. I dreaded going to work. I feared I would not last without having a meltdown. I feared that it would all just be too much. I didn't want to continue feeling like I did. I just wanted to run away by sleeping in. But I went. I somehow forced myself to deal with the situation. I had to tell myself I was doing this for a reason, no matter how miserable the job is or how shitty I feel. I have a goal, and I need the money to achieve that goal. I have a responsibility to see this through. And I did it. I worked the whole day without having any trouble, other than feeling ridiculously tired. The nap this afternoon,though short, did feel pretty amazing after that.

Also, it's been over a month, and I haven't had a meltdown. I haven't screamed. There's been a lot of crying and a lot of intense emotional pain that has caused physical pain. The anxiety is constant, unfortunately. Maybe it's more to do with the disconnect between where I want to be and where I am. I'm not sure.  But I'm coping. I'm learning to live with these feelings, which are pretty intense at times. I feel like that's an understatement. But you get the point. I've had so much shit happen to me emotionally over the past month and a half, and I haven't broken down. A few months ago, just being in the same room with other people would have sent me over the edge. Being late for an appointment would have completely destroyed my entire day, and I'd spend the whole rest of the night crying in bed, unable to move. I don't know how that person ever came to be. I knew the whole time that I wasn't myself. But I couldn't stop anything from happening.

Sometimes I still have some of those same feelings, but I'm in control this time. At some point, I will write in depth about how I felt during those months. I know there are a ton of posts from that time, but being able to analyze it from the other side might offer more insight into just how debilitating my condition had become. But I'm not up for that right now.

I guess I should finally get to what made me want to write in the first place. Walking over to my desk to take some medicine, I got hit with the realization of how different everything is right now. In my mind flashed images of our old bed, followed immediately by images of this one. Blue sheets versus red sheets. Alive versus eerily quiet. Even the lighting makes the place feel different. I just look at myself and all of my things and can't believe we aren't in the place where I felt like we belonged. It really was home. And for some reason, this doesn't have that feeling anymore. It's always going to be home. It's always going to be a loving, welcoming place. But it's a different kind of feeling. It's a home that I can still be a part of, but it's not the same as the home you have helped to create. And I really don't think my new apartment is going to totally feel like home either. I'm scared of that empty feeling following me, which has a lot more to do with being alone, but you never know what can happen. I will do my best to make the place my own. I had more to say but I got lost in thought and it disappeared.

I may consider anxiety medication again. But for now, I can handle this, as unpleasant as it feels most of the time. I struggle with this because part of me feels that I shouldn't have to feel like this all the time if there is a solution. But side effects are a real problem for me, as I have learned, and I just don't know if I am ready to take that risk again, especially because your typical anxiety meds don't do anything for me. Maybe the anxiety will resolve itself when my situation improves. It's wishful thinking more than anything, but hoping won't kill me.

I will be okay. I am doing the right thing. This is a step forward on all fronts. I won't give up.