Tuesday was one month since G and I broke up. Yesterday was her birthday. In the month after the breakup I worked on a long series of short pieces about G and what she means to me, why I love her and such. So much had become confused in me and in her and between us in the last few months and I needed to start sorting it out in my head. All of the pieces were attached to a memory of her, and involved me remembering small details and talking about what those details taught me about her. The aspects of G that were brought to light ranged from the very cerebral to the somewhat goofy. All of it was heartfelt, and I spent many tearful hours sitting over the keyboard to work out all of the stuff. I gave it to her for her birthday yesterday and I hope it means, and will continue to mean, a lot to her. Yesterday in my therapy session, I was discussing these writings with my therapist and he made the suggestion that I might think of doing the same for myself. He said that part of the process that I was going through right now was learning to like and value myself more, and that he thought going through this process would maybe help me identify some things that would move me in that direction. As I cannot seem to write anything unless I at least have an imaginary audience, I thought I would post them here. Most of my readers here are my friends, and it is the 21st...
Today is G’s birthday. She turns 28. I think she is still plenty young enough to give away her age. Those of you that know her may want to drop a line and wish her a happy one. You can post the wishes here or send her an email if you have her address.
I realize that the hardest to get through time of day that I have is the hour or so after I arrive home every afternoon. When G lived here with me I always seemed to be in a bad mood when I arrived home from work. Looking back, I really do not know why. It seems foolish now. Why wasn’t I happy having the life I had? Now I get home and I am not in a bad mood, just a sad mood. I think every afternoon I start partially daydreaming as I am driving home, and when I get here I expect to find G watching Oprah or taking a nap. It never turns out that way. Walking into the house feels lonely and empty. I think that is why I have started writing this at this time of the day. It gives me something to do until I start feeling better. Most days I call someone and talk for awhile during this period as well. Sometimes my mother, sometimes dad, sometimes a friend that I know is available. It helps also, but I don’t like getting off the phone. I am so afraid that the emptiness will return again. I have to figure out better ways of dealing with this transition to home every day. I cannot believe now what a problem I made it when G was still here. I cannot believe that I didn’t realize it could be a lot worse. That indeed she could not be here. That indeed I might not be able to find anyone to discuss my day with. That I...
I know I usually write these things later in the evening but I have had some things on my mind since having lunch with T earlier today. While at Manuel’s I told him of starting to wonder whether or not the way I feel, and have tended to handle things is all that radically different that the norm. In other words, am I possibly over-pathologized, or at least do I feel that I am a lot worse off and abnormal than I really am? The last few weeks have felt like a sprint for me. Initially starting out with a feeling that I am completely screwed up and that I need to quickly begin working on becoming un-screwed-up. Through all of this sprinting, I have not taken time to really analyze just what “screwed up” is and what it means to me. I have begun thinking lately that I may indeed not be so abnormal. My diagnosis from my therapist is that I have issues of emotional dependency – on others, on alcohol, on cigarettes etc. It is from this condition that he believes that my depression comes. I agree whole-heartedly that I am emotionally dependent, and some work to become a little more emotionally independent is definitely in order. My problem is just knowing exactly what recovery from this condition will look like. It seems to me that everyone I know depends on other people in some sort of way or other. Whereas it is very important to find happiness within ourself, it seems to me that none of us would be happy without the other people in...
Today began late. I any of you noticed the timestamp on last night’s post, you will see that I was up late. I awoke this morning around 11, immediately got a Diet Coke and popped my Wellbutrin. Last night was somewhat of a blur. Too many stimuli, felt like nights that I have been nostalgic for many times over recent years. Interesting conversation with interesting people about things that most of the time would seem so un-ininteresting, but that due to the circumstances are just perfect. Today was lazy though. I limited my stimuli. I wanted to just be comatose and not care for a while. I watched football, while keeping up with my second loss in a row in my fantasy league (damn those Dunaway boys!). T came over with a pizza in the middle of the afternoon and we ate and napped and I played video poker. T left shortly before 6 to go play real poker with the understanding that we would mee later for dinner, which we did after pinball, club soda, popcorn, conversation. My original goal of not caring (too much), the one I made at the beginning of the day, is almost complete now. I have managed to go through the day without too much care and I have to say it has felt pretty good. There was none of the beating myself up that had characterized many of my days lately. There was none of the mind-racing over-analysis, none of the what-ifs, and none of the concern with much of anyone but me, and how I could make it through the day...
Okay, I guess this is the way it should be. I finally have reached the point that I have stayed up with my friends until way in the morning. Colleen has kissed me on the cheek in front of her other to tell me good night; to thank me for being a good club soda patron. It is too late. I am too old to do this kind of reconnaissance and I want to make everyone happy. I spent some time time talking to K tonight who probably gave me the best advice – spliced into the middle of tales of anal sex exploits. He told me that I needed to figure out who I was, a scary proposition. Who am I? He agreed upon my litany that G and I have lots to work with, and although he wanted to kiss me, and me not him, that I was overall a good person, a talented person and that I needed to share that with the world. I think I am going to be alright. I think I am going to be good. I think I am good. Me and 300 mg of Wellbutrin a day is something I can now sink my teeth into. There is missing and longing and desire, but there is serenity and hope and belief. There’s even God a little mixed in there. I don’t know what some of my friends will think of that, but there it is. Take it as you see fit. I am on an upswing. Don’t worry about me any longer. She’s still the love of my life and...
Today was a departure from the norm lately. I awoke again to no Diet Coke (things I seemed to always take care of when G was in the house have become, apparently, less urgent now), no cereal today either. I had to go to my therapist earlier today than usual, an 11 AM appointment. Afterwards, I had lunch with T and then came back home to work. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a day, too much time spent again on technical issues. Later in the late afternoon/early evening G called and we talked and I broke down a bit. I try so hard not to. I want to be strong and good and something worthy of her, or anyone else’s for that matter, affection. I think I have been walking through this week trying to steer a middle path between the peaks and valleys that I have been experiencing lately, and today it all just came to a head, I had to let out the missing and sadness that was still inside. I had even broken down during my session a little earlier in the day. I think it was the first time I had allowed myself to really think about the situation in a few days. I had managed to distract myself for much of the week with various technical issues and projects. The conversation with G was up and down. She was irritated that I was still so sad. It seems to me that sometimes there is comfort for her in my sadness, and at others it really bothers her. I am doing so much to...
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