Change in tone

The last Itime I wrote on here was May, and so much has changed. The guy I was cringe-worthingly obsessing about back then eventually told me to go away and have some fun. He literally told me this, and ended the message by saying that he would be happy when I was happy. I picked up the message just outside of london Bridge station, sat and had a little cry and then got up and travelled home. The next day I signed up to Tinder; by then the tears had turned into proud resentment, and so I thought “fck it,” I need to do something meaningless.

That was the start of a journey, let me tell you. The last six months have been absolutely insane, and I don’t mean that as an exageration.

I went up to London Pride, travelled back at about 11pm and met up with a guy later. We ended up having sex in a park at 3am- as you do. I guess I include all of this because it makes sense of events which happened later. I was proud of myself because I’m not usually thst spontanious, and i felt as though this was something I needed to do- not him persay- but in general to prove to myself that I was moving past Mr Belgium who’d taken my self esteem down to nill. Not that it was his fault of course, I’d just come out of a five year messy relationship and was in no state to start talking to someone else who I had feelings for. Like 2 days after breaking up with Mr Five years. What was I thinking?

So Mr Sex in park was good for me, at the time it showed to myself that I could go out there and have fun. We had sex once more, but then I could tell that he wanted more and so I backed off. He kept messaging for a while, so I lost all respect for him, but he eventually backed off.

I then went Tinder crazy- I’m not kidding- I was obsessed for a good 2 months or so. Met one guy who introduced me to the wild world of sexting and sending semi naked pics. Lots of people might be reading this and laughing at my naivity, but I really was a tinder virgin who decided to embrace the dark side in serious way. Met Mr Big smile, who I’m still kinda in contact with, and had lots of orgasms with his textual help. He and I went on a tidnder mission to find a third party for a three-way and had a lot of fun. I almost participated in a three some with an amazing couple; bought a whole new outfit and was massively excited, then went and lost my bank card during the day before we were due to meet. Typical, and I was pissed off because I kinda lost their trust, understandably. Chatted to a lot of people.

One guy, however, made the mark. I typically went to Tinder looking for meaningless fun, and then fell in love. I concluded then that I was simply shit, and not made for, anything meaningless. I don’t know what to write about him really because the time I spent with him kinda coincides with the rest of my life falling apart. Not his fault, just pure bad timing.

I worked out of two prisons, as a housing advisor, and had only started this job in March. It was massively stressful, though something which I felt was worthwhile, and moreover I could do the job. I enjoyed it, despite the stress. The week before Pride, when Mr Belgium told me to go off and have some fun, I was already pretty messed up because I’d left a door open at one of the prisons, and was facing an investigation. I was convinced, on a level, that I was going to get fired, and went through a week long process of mentall processing and trying to prepare myself for that eventuality. It was a horrible couple of weeks, I was drinking again and wasn’t motivated at work. Other things happened at the same time at work which contributed to the stress, and this was just at the same thime that Mr Belgium told me to go off and have some fun, and moreover that he would be happy when I was happy. I coudln’t see me being happy for quite a while, and I was pissed off, like really, really pissed off. So I decided my new mantra would be “fck it.” It was shorter than “fck everything,” but that was basically the mind frame I was in when I met Mr Typical.

I’m going to call this man who came into my life and destroyed all my ideas of being able to do anything meaningless, or on the other hand showed me clearly how the universe has a sense of humour, or may place people in your path who are likely to have an affect. Mr Typical, I fell for hard. We spent about a month on and off togetehr, had a lot of really good sex, drank and chatted. I’m over it now, 90% over it in good momenets so I won’t wax lyrical, but it was good. On my side it was good. I told him I had feelings for him, because I couldn’t handle to silence otherwise. I have analysed and analysed over the last few months, after he stopped coming over, exactly what went wrong. Went rhrough the whole process of telling myself the whole thing wasn’t entirely my fault, but with hindsite I think he may have liked me more than he verbally indicated. I’m not sure.

The last time he came over, I was living in delusional mists. He said he wanted to tell me something, but instead we had sex (not partically good sex), and he left. That was it. We went away to France together, had a massive argument there, then he apologised for his temper. We watched an awesome gig and did pills together, it was awesome. But he wasn’t convinced, and I perhaps missed signs. I’m holding onto the hope now that he may drop into my life again, though there is another man, another tinder man who I was talking to at the same time as me and Mr Typical were happening.

Back to work now, because these things are all linked. I was eventually told, by my manager that there would be no further actions taken for the door incident. I ripped myself to shreds for nothing, but it was understandable, I was new, inexperienced in the way these processes go, stressed to the hilt and generally walking a thin line. My mental health had been vaguely shaky for ages but I hadn’t picked up on it. The holiday in France with Mr Typical was amazing, and came just after I’d been told there would be no further action taken. I went back to work feeling refreshed, but the case load caught up with me quickly. I was experiencing strange things but was basically ignoring it, and then one Thursday, after being back for about 2 weeks, the symptoms broke through. They were strong enough for me to recognise, and blew my mind because I couldn’t believe it was happening again.

I made it through the day, and I don’t remember the exact sequence of events, but basically my “mental health,” blew up big time. But very different to last time, and I’m still working through that now. I’ve never been practising religious, but feel now as though I want to find a way to encorporate this. I’ve been saying this for a long time, but now, due to the events of the last 3 months, I want to more. I’m scared though, I need to work through that.

I went through a six week process with the “symptoms of schizophrenia,” which, looking back now, only beggers- emotions and thought processes which are more intense than description can do justice. I’m on the other side now, but it went too far. I thought I could handle it and I couldn’t- I almost had to have a liver transplant, I was in a bad way.

But, now I am on the other side of that. I was lucky enough that when I heard that phrase “liver transplant,” something in my head flipped back and I realised that enough was enough. Something in my head reasserted itself, or flipped back into a sensible frame work. I believe the whole process, once again, was about teaching me my own self worth, it’s just that I was difficult enough, to hurt myself in the process of learning that. I have new scars, which I despise, but all I can do now is pray for sun, make up and tattoos. I was sectionned again, after leaving East Surrey, and have only got back to my flat permanently this week. So I am adjusting to freedom now, adjusting to a new life where I won’t be able to casually drink 2 bottles of wine.

This is a positive though, I am kinda excited about the prospect of clean living, as it were. I’ve also basically quit smoking; am still on the e-cig but have cut out real cigarettes. I spent the first week in Langley processing everything, because there was a lot to process, a lot.

Mr Typical is out of my life, but loosing him was a big contributor to why my head, whilst also dealing with stress of work, decided to give up and shut down for a while. I think, there may have been other reasons. It’s too much to assume that you understand. I need to stop trying, ever, to understand all of it. Forgot and move on.