It’s Friday night.  I’m at home, listening to music with the dogs. Everything seems the same, but it’s not.  None of it is the same. Everything that my life was has been shattered into a million pieces.  I remember when I was manic and read A Million Little Pieces… the opening poem in the book was:

The Young Man came to the Old Man seeking counsel.

I broke something, Old Man.

How badly is it broken?

It’s in a million little pieces.

I’m afraid I can’t help you.

Why?

There’s nothing you can do.

Why?

It can’t be fixed.

Why?

It’s broken beyond repair. It’s in a million little pieces.

That’s pretty much how I feel about my life right now.  Or at least, it’s how I’ve felt for months and months and months.

And today, something switched.  Today, nothing changed but everything did.

My life, the life that I am so desperately clinging to, the life that I long for, is over.  It’s in a million little pieces.  It’s been shattered for months and years; I’ve been walking on all of the shards and my feet are bleeding.  My knees are bleeding.  My palms are bleeding.  I’ve crawled on my hands and knees for as long as I can remember.  I wasn’t enjoying life, as much as I thought I was.

I was surviving life.  I was going through the motions, I was doing the things I was supposed to do.

I went to college.  Then I went to graduate school.  I got a boyfriend.  I got a job.  I got my own place.  I had my life.  I had everything I wanted and it was all destroyed.  Saying that makes my stomach drop all the way to my feet.  I destroyed it.

Rather, a combination of life and I destroyed it.  A combination of taking too much and giving too little, of putting others before yourself one too many times.

I hurt.  I hurt all of the time because of all of the people I’ve hurt and things I’ve destroyed in my life.  I can’t even sit and think about all of the terrible things I’ve done because all I see in my wake is devastation.  I have 15 years of terrible choices to make up for.

I can say that I’m sick.  I can say that I’m mentally ill and that I’m chronically ill and that I have no coping skills and that I physically and emotionally can’t regulate myself.  Mental illness has played a huge role in my life, my relationships, my struggles.  But it’s not all of it.

Trauma.

So much trauma.

I sit here trying to pick out a trauma or two to write about, and I have nothing.  Well, I have everything.  I have slides of everything in my life, playing through my head, like one of those old viewmasters.

Mostly men in my life.  Mostly my stepdads, my dad, older boys in school.  Mostly loss.  Mostly grief.  Mostly abuse.

I’m clearly rambling at this point as I try and sort everything out.

I moved up here to start over.  I moved up here to get a handle on things and walk away from everything I’ve destroyed and start the fuck over.  And I have.

I walked away from LuLaRoe today.  That was a big one.  I’m going back into therapy.

I see a therapist once a week to work on all my personal shit. (Ya, I know it’s going to take a while).

I have a new, amazing, fantastic, perfect house.

I have new friends.

I have a new boy.

I have a boy who really really likes me, who is pretty sure he loves me.  And he is fantastic.  He has everything going for him, I legitimately cannot find a fault.  He thinks I’m amazing and brilliant and special.  We have a great time when we hang out.  I have a boy who wants to be with me, who wants to settle down with me.  I have a boy who wants to give me all of the things (and is in a much better position to give me the things) that I so desperately wanted from Jon.  I have it on a silver platter.

And tonight I gave in.  Tonight I let go of the life I longingly yearn for.  Tonight I let go of the life I want to go back to.  Tonight I am a new girl, in a new house in a new town, full of endless possibilities and wonder.  I’m surrounded by amazing people… people who make me feel like I’m awesome.  Apparently, this is how normal people are though and I’ve just been around shitty people my life or something like that.

Tonight I’m back in the city my heart belongs too.  Tonight I’m sitting on my porch and away from all the city lights, I can see the stars.  Tonight I’m having a glass of wine.  Tonight I’m looking forward.

The last year of my life has been royally shitty, beyond normal shitty.  But I chose to sit in it.  I chose to be there.  I didn’t even know I was there.  I didn’t even know my heart was broken and I was having a mental breakdown.  I didn’t know I had a stroke.  I didn’t know any of the things I know now.

I know that I can do this.  I know that I can get it together.  I know that to do that, I have to shut down the past.  I have to close the door on the thing I want the most.  I have to close the door to the man I thought was my forever.  I have to let it go, and I have to not look back.  There is no coming back from this.  There will never be an us again.  There will never be a future for us.  No kids, no marriage.  No terrible in-laws either though!

He was my one.  He was my everything.  He was my heart and soul and everything I lived and breathed for.  I have never felt for anyone else what I felt for him.  I have never been as happy as I was when I was with him.  I loved him, I love him, I will always love him. He’s everything I wanted my life to be, every place I wanted to go and thing I wanted to see.  Absolutely everything.

He was emotional and immature and sad and stable and loving and kind and all of these things, these feelings I have tied into him.  He was understanding and empathetic. He was sweet.  He was smart, I guess. He was my rock, he was my stability, he was my regulator.  and I loved him.  with every breath and beat of my body.  I still love him, but he’s not coming back.  He’s not going to be in my life again.  He is not going to show up at my door with daffodils because I’m sick.  He has someone new.  He is in love.  He is gone.  Our relationship is gone.  My life is gone.

I had a dream about it.  A dream about death and decay and life ending with him.  I called him right when I had the dream. I was worried he was dead.  Silly me, it was just the death of our relationship.

That’s the day I found out he had a new girlfriend.  A new Asian girlfriend of course, which just really fucking rubs it in.  A new girl to sleep with, a new girl to get blowjobs from.  A new girl to have holidays and go to Disneyland and have road trips and come home to at night.  He has all of that.

So why does it hurt so much then? Why does it hurt to shut this down? To close the door on this… to walk away from everything that was four years of my life.  It hurts because I want it.  It hurts because I miss it.  It hurts because change is uncomfortable.  It hurts because this is my fault.  My fault.

my

fault

MY FAULT

It hurts because it’s my fault.  Everything is my fault.  It’s all my fault.

I have done this to myself.  I have destroyed my life and everyone I love and everything that was good for it.

 

I can do this.  I am doing this.  Finally, after 15 years of NOT doing this, I am doing this.

And I’m fucking rocking it.

I’m rocking the shit out of my life.  New friends, new place, new boys, new job, new life.  Working out all of the shit in my head that has destroyed everything I’ve tried to build.  Learning to regulate me and meditate. Learning what I like.  Learning what my things are.

My favorite color is blue. I like to bake.  I like to cook.  I like to interact with people.  I like to go to the beach.  I love my dogs.  I love my friends.  I love this new beginning.  I love that everything in my life has led me to this moment, to this place, where all of these amazing things and amazing people are in my life.

What’s more is that they think I’m amazing, which is new for me.  Most everyone else doesn’t look at me that way.  I’m the sick girl, the crazy girl, the girl who will never be good enough.

But here, here I am good enough.  Here I am wanted.  Here I am cherished.  Here they know my worth.  Here they don’t put me down.  Here I’m not afraid and ashamed and silenced.  Here I’m not stuck in my room, a prisoner in my own house.  Here I am happy.  Here I am content.  Here I am learning to be a new me, a better me, a healthier me.  And here I will be.  There’s no way to go back.  There’s no way to go back to the life that I’ve been so desperately clinging to for the last year.  I am in a new city.  I have a new house.  I have a new everything.  A new man.  A new man… who is looking for a wife.  Who thinks that I’m suitable for that.  Who is successful and accomplished and kind and brilliant and encouraging and sweet and tolerant and fun and funny.  I haven’t laughed in a long time, and it’s nice to finally laugh.  I’ve never said I wanted to date the funny guy… it never really occurred to me that Jon and I didn’t have fun or laugh until I started dating again and I realized that I’m pretty funny, that other people are pretty funny, that I like to laugh.  I like to laugh and I couldn’t laugh.  I couldn’t get angry.  I couldn’t assert myself.  I couldn’t come out of my room.  I couldn’t be safe in my own house.  I wasn’t accepted.  I wasn’t loved and cherished by all.

I wasn’t enough.

I was never going to be enough.

After four years I wasn’t the one and I wasn’t enough.

But tonight, I am enough.  I am kind and I am loving and I am good and I am successful and I am loved and I am adored.  I am smart and I am all of these wonderful things, these things that have been hidden in me for so long.

Everyone has broken me in my life.  Each person in my life has taken little pieces of me along the way.  Some of them have taken big pieces.  Some of them, like Jon and his friends and family, chipped away small pieces of me at a time, so small it wasn’t noticeable.  But he took them.  They took them.  Everyone took them until I was shattered into a million little pieces.

But tonight my million little pieces have started to come together.  The first few shards, held together by tape or love or glue or some magic, have come together and I am content.  I am happy.  I am hopeful.  I am optimistic.

And tonight…

Tonight I am enough. Tonight I am wanted.  Tonight I am loved.  Tonight I’m done.  I’m done hiding and beating myself up and being ashamed.  I’m done being scared of new hope and love and possibilities.  I’m done holding on to someone who doesn’t want me.  I’m done clinging to a life that was really pretty awful.  I’m done being “not enough” or not good enough or not thin enough or not pretty enough or not funny enough or not anything enough. Tonight I’m sad as I close this chapter of my life.  It was such a huge, formative chapter in my life.  Tonight my heart hurts as I say goodbye to everything that my life was, to the people in it, to the man I loved.

I can’t go back.  You can’t ever really go back, and if you could, would you want to? I have kept my promises, all of them, up until tonight.  I have kept every single one of my promises, which I now realize mean nothing.  My promises are nothing, and they are useless, and they are holding me back.  I feel sick thinking about it, letting go of all of that.  I feel sick thinking about all of the things and people I’m turning my back on.

But it’s time.

It’s time to move on.  It’s time to shut the door.  It’s time to try new things and new people and new places.  It’s time, and there’s only so much of it.

I’ve already wasted enough.

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