Recovery

I guess part of me always kind of felt like it was all wrong. Or maybe I just believed what everyone was telling me. Whatever the reason the outcome is the same. Now all I can do is what I’ve learned, which is to take responsibility for what I’ve done, offer forgiveness, and move on. All my recovery knowledge that I’ve learned and went out the window this past month has been coming back into play. I become a robot of recovery. Have a three hour plan. And when that three hours is up have another three hour plan. Repeat. Stay safe. I haven’t been that sad this time. I guess I grieved the loss last week during the two days between kissing his lips and realizing he wasn’t coming back. I would have kissed him long and deeper if I had known. I was still angry with him and honestly him walking out did us both a favor. Everything had been going downhill, the good days were more like moments and few and far between. I love him still but I guess part of me is glad he’s gone. I miss him and my heart aches for him but what he put me through is not something I want to do again. Everything was so fucked up and I guess I just didn’t want to see it. But during that 48 hours last week, I didn’t sleep, or eat, or do anything really other than think about him. Run through every possible scenario of what could have happened and try to decide which one I would prefer. In the back of my mind I knew what the reality was. I guess it just took two days to come to terms with it. I can’t go back now what’s done is done, and while I will jot down what I think I did wrong this time, I don’t think I will share it with the world yet. I’m not sure if I just don’t want to talk about it anymore or I think I should be more private or I fear judgment, but I think this time I really just want to do what we do at work when there is something we don’t want to work on – put it in the file to ignore.

In Shock

I wrote this the first of February:

It feels a lot like I imagine shock would. My whole but just goes numb. My heart races. The anxiety this is causing feels unbearable. I don’t see the end of all this madness and my throat feels like it’s closing. My whole life feels like an out of body experience lately and everything is so wrong I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t even know what to do. Frequently when I get overwhelmed I just don’t do anything. I don’t pay bills. I don’t talk to anyone. I just shut off. I don’t want to deal with or process any of it anymore. It’s a worse nightmare each passing day. The fighting and the lies and the secret conversations on the porch. Drama drama drama. I just don’t know when enough is enough anymore. We can barely go hours anymore without fighting and I don’t think a relationship is supposed to be so hard. But then again who knows what normal is.