The struggle is real.

For all my recent discovery and positivity and self-acceptance, there are still dark moments that creep in around the edges. Days where I am angry at everyone and sad at everything, and nights where I wake up at 3AM unable to do anything but lie in bed and feel the dread gnawing at me. In these times, I wish there were some definable feeling that’s eating me alive, something I could focus on and work through, but usually it’s just some undefinable sense of self-hatred and the feeling that everything is about to close in on me. So maybe I’ll just free-form work through these and have a chance at going back to sleep.

Maybe I’m just not cut out for monogamy? I get it, I’m not even fully separated from my spouse yet and already trying to figure out what the future holds and I need to focus on life as a single mom and not get caught up in “love” and devotion and all that jazz. But, y’all, I miss intimacy already. I miss someone coming up behind me, brushing my hair away from my shoulder, and kissing my neck while I’m cooking. I miss snuggling against someone on the couch while watching a movie. And God damn, I miss kissing. All kinds…the slow burn, standing in the doorway, world-melting-away behind you kind, and the “can’t get through the doorway fast enough” to make it upstairs, practically ripping each others clothes off kind. But what if what I really like are all the beginning feelings of falling in love, the excitement of the first kiss, the thrill of someone reaching for your hand for the first time, and also all of the fulfilling sex you have in the beginning that I fear goes away eventually. What if I just can’t cope with how real relationships work, the give and take; what if I’m not supportive, and what if my soon-to-be-ex is right and I’m just unnecessarily cruel to my partner?

On the other hand, I had one of the worst thoughts about myself today that I’ve ever had. Maybe the reason I can’t consistently lose weight is because if I’m more attractive, I’ll have to admit that men don’t want to be with me because of my shitty personality. Talk about a sucker-punch. My brain is a real asshole sometimes, stringing me along with all these positive thoughts, making me feel like I’m making real growth and progress towards loving and accepting myself, and then out of nowhere saying “Haha, just kidding, your self-esteem issues have nothing to do with the way you look as previously thought…they really are just about how selfish and lazy and spiteful you are.” How do I move myself past this moment to trust other people when they say how much they enjoy my company or how great they think I am?

Crushing debt and the mile-long list of shit to do before I’m living in a separate household, and also are my children going to be ok? I won’t expand because I feel like these are absolutely normal middle-of-the-night fears.

Have I irreparably hurt someone I love? This one is tough. I’ve never been able to play it cool, to take it easy, especially when I connect with someone quickly, and I’m most certainly a “jump in with both feet” kind of girl. I don’t hold back when I care about someone. I let them know. I do all the things. I’m reckless. But I think my recklessness caused someone that I care about so very much to have a major life setback at a time when he really couldn’t handle any more stress. And I know it’s 90% not my fault, but that 10% that is, is just eating at me. I’m most definitely a “better to have loved and lost” person and I need to remember that not everyone else is. For some people, maybe the loss outweighs the brief, bright shining light that the love gave them. Maybe I should have seen the signs that he couldn’t handle too much too quickly and held back, and I didn’t. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. And the worst part is that I can’t fix it, or even help. Me being out of control has now caused someone else pain, and it’s out of my control. Sitting back and watching him struggle, and wanting to help but feeling like my love just literally destroys another person is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And I feel like I’m failing at even the sitting back part. Any time I have any small bit of contact, I take it as a sign that I can stick around when maybe I need to just go away and give him back the space he carved out for himself to heal. But then I worry that my disappearance will make him blame himself and it’ll be worse. And I also hold out hope that we can be in each others’ lives in some capacity at some point, and I don’t want to miss that opportunity. So this one is really what keeps me up the most and gives me the most self-doubt.

I’ll be okay tomorrow. There are good things in my life to focus on, and I’m strong enough to cling to those like buoys in the middle of a raging ocean, until I can quiet my self-loathing long enough to swim to safer ground again. Writing helps. It’s cathartic to get my thoughts out of my head and into a place where they don’t feel like they’re eating me alive. It’s funny, having an online network of people that care but don’t always fully understand that you do these things to process is sometimes strange. People want to help, and I think that’s lovely, but it also means they take every bit of what I say seriously whether it’s meant to be just an observation or an actual cry of pain. Sometimes I just need to make the observation and send it out into the universe before moving on. This feels like one of those times. Also, I need a snack.

 

One thought on “The struggle is real.

  1. We love you and we’re always here to listen – whether it’s stuff you have to get out or somewhere merging you want to talk about.

    Like

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