2/23/22

They say it takes a year for every 5-7 years you were in a relationship to get over it. I’m in my 3rd and I am hard-pressed to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Grieving would be so much easier if someone grieved with me. Unlike death grief where multiple people feel the loss, relationship grief is a deep hole in darkness lonely grief. People have chosen to either ignore me or scold me about all of this. Maybe my anti-self is my worst enemy. He pulls and tugs me down with a hard grip on me where I just can’t move. Meanwhile, I see the shows, movies, and real-life stories of others’ recovery. That one friend, that one sibling, or the stranger who comforts and helps the other through their pain. Helping to build them up and change their views of life, or discovering that they are the right person in the other’s life and all ends beautifully as the man or woman sits with their friend, family, or new love as the sun rises on a new day. That’s not happening for me.

Oh, I have been given some sage advice from a lot of people, friends, and faceless strangers, but no actual contact. Nothing close to a sit-down over coffee or dinner. No family celebrations or get-togethers. Rather, I burden others or creep them out as I ask for some company.

I write these entries at least 2 times each week since I started OD. You would think they have helped me and the comments would inspire me, but they don’t. I guess I’m wired differently than most people. The stark dropped me several times before my delivery.  Maybe after years of believing words from Patty’s mouth only to be destroyed by her, words just don’t do it for me, whether they come from people or professionals. 2 years of therapy and I feel as though I never changed all that much. Robin is a wonderful therapist, but I could see a hundred more and still come out feeling this way. I know this. I think I understand what would help me and I have made several attempts that all failed miserably to where they just made things even worst.

Would it be unfair of me or just not right to want someone to come into my life and “nurse” me back to normal? I have for others. I’ve seen people do it for others.  Hell, my ex’s new husband saw her when she was “unhappy” and made every effort to help her to destroy me and my life, without her having any sort of remorse.

Guess I am extremely jealous that most people have had that one somebody who was in love with them. The kind of love I wasted on Patty for years, that was never returned. I have never been pursued. I have never been convinced that even though I will end someone, I will be ok. Not one person in my 50 years ever stressed or thought of my feelings or even came back to me when they were over. They were done, like a banana peel I was tossed away never to be thought of again. There is no one out in the world who is sick with worry or stressed over me. I will admit, there have been a couple of times I have ended a call or text with the words, “I just don’t want to live and I’m going to end it all”. No wellness checks by police showed at my door. Neither did the people I said this to or another they may have asked to check in on me. I wouldn’t hear from them until I once again called or messaged them and even then I wouldn’t hear back. The handful of people who saw what this has done to my health and sanity have also never, out of the blue, checked in with me.

Why should they? Why should you? Why should anybody? Everyone has their problems and very few are like me whose emotions seem to be dependent on making others happy, healthy, and safe. Maybe I should have been a priest or a minister. Seriously, you like your priest, your minister, and your vicar, but have you ever thought of their feelings, failings, or happiness? You just assume they are all about God and they are never alone. No one sits around thinking about their issues. They’re all so together, they have a purpose. I mean, when do you ever see a sad and depressed minister. If I was one it would be a perfect fit. I would give to everyone, be their support, and the voice of reason and absolutely no one would have to be there for me, because they all assume I am backed up by God. I’m not a common human, I’m a priest.

I will be seeing my psychologist tomorrow. I am fully prepared to ask for ketamine treatment, shock treatment, or magnetic treatment. I just want to become a zombie. I would even settle for a lobotomy if that’s still done. I would rather be a babbling drooling zombie sitting in a padded room than how I have felt and been treated these last few years.