There are a lot of blog entries I've been kicking around and planning in my head lately, and then I never get around to writing them. So here are the title and condensed versions, just for the sake of record keeping.
Benji
I don't know if I ever mentioned it but I did get Benji's ashes back, and they're sitting on one of my bookcases next to a framed photo of him. It's his little memorial corner. I miss him so much but it's getting easier. I know he's always with me, anyway, and it's comforting.
Max
March 16th was Max's Adoptionversary or Gotcha Day or whatever you want to call it. He's been my dog for a whole year now. I was going to write a full entry about it but I just don't feel up to it. Max has definitely had his pain in the ass moments since I adopted him but I definitely love him. He's a good little dog and he's made tremendous progress in the past year. He's much healthier and happier than he used to be, and I'm glad to have helped him to that point.
Work
Work was insane last week. Two people on vacation, my boss in transit from AZ to FL for most of the week, and some less than fantastic experiences with a couple of co-workers made for an unpleasant 36 hours. Last month (just after Benji died) I was asked to take over DME prior auth. for the sleep department, and it has kept me insanely busy. I love it. Before last week I was just at the edge of being overwhelmed with work, and that's generally when the point where I function best. Last week I was genuinely overwhelmed and I'm looking forward to my normal workload this coming week.
Fitness/Diet
I've been doing better in this area lately. I did cancel my gym membership, because I'm just not using it, and there's really no point in paying the $40 a month for it. I'm still working out at home and that's actually going pretty well. I just need to be more consistent instead of hit and miss.
Literally The Bitchiest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said To Me
This actually happened almost 2 months ago and I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about it . . . but I think it deserves a mention. It was one of my late stay days in February (for my super fun special mail project) and for whatever reason, I got to chatting with a co-worker. She said something about my honey missing me since I was staying late, and I laughed and said I was single. And then I joked about how I'm hopelessly single, and she said that she was too. But I know for a fact that she has a live in boyfriend so why she said that was beyond me. I said, "No you're not." And then she laughed, with this little condescending chuckle, and said, "You're right. I'm not." I was literally speechless and more or less just walked away after that. Seriously, so bitchy. So incredibly unnecessarily bitchy. And really kind of disrespectful . . . if my longtime live in S.O. randomly told people he or she was single I'd be livid. I just don't get it. This particular co-worker also once invited me to a Zumba class when she saw me eating a brownie at work last Halloween, so she definitely has a track record for this kind of stuff, but still.
Dancing With the Stars
DWTS started last Monday. I'm super excited for this season. Plus both my mom and my sister are watching too and that makes it more fun. They both mentioned something during the premiere about it being unfair that two of the contestants are gold medal winning ice dancers and kind of have an advantage . . . to which I pointed out that Derek Hough has literally won the contest with a professional dancer. Seriously. Definitely a facepalm moment.
Hollie
Is the newest member of my little family, and I will write more about her later.
3.23.2014
3.11.2014
. . .
I really couldn't think of a title for this post.
I am just in a bad funk lately. For the past couple weeks my diet's been off the rails, I haven't worked out at all, and my sleep schedule has been a complete and utter cluster fuck. I feel like I've accomplished nothing (outside of work) in forever. I've stopped being concerned with money management and other little things that I should be taking charge of.
In short I feel like a failure. I'm depressed and frustrated and I'm starting to panic over my ever growing TO DO list. I can also feel myself starting to disengage like I used to and I hate it. It sucks and I don't know where it's coming from or what to do about it.
Well, I guess I do know where it's coming from. I'm sure Benji dying is a big factor. Work is incredibly stressful right now (new duties, bigger responsibility, a boss that now lives in Florida, etc), and while I love how busy I am, I'm sure it's contributing to this down swing. And then there's the whole being surrounded by happily married co-workers, and having mostly friends who are either married or happily committed, thing. I don't think I'm a bitter person when it comes to this and I absolutely don't hold anyone's happiness against them but I won't lie, sometimes it makes me feel so lonely. And it all feeds each other, because I get lonely and depressed and then I eat my feelings and then beat myself up about that and inevitably tell myself that the reason I'm alone is that I'm fat and unattractive and completely don't have my shit together, which leads to being lonely and depressed and eating my feelings. It's a shitty, vicious cycle.
But I know it's temporary. Benji not being here will get easier, or at least more tolerable; things at work will shake out and I'll adjust to the changes and be awesome; I will get my shit together outside of work; I will, eventually, get physically healthy.
For now I just have to take it a day at a time and keep on keepin' on, I suppose.
I am just in a bad funk lately. For the past couple weeks my diet's been off the rails, I haven't worked out at all, and my sleep schedule has been a complete and utter cluster fuck. I feel like I've accomplished nothing (outside of work) in forever. I've stopped being concerned with money management and other little things that I should be taking charge of.
In short I feel like a failure. I'm depressed and frustrated and I'm starting to panic over my ever growing TO DO list. I can also feel myself starting to disengage like I used to and I hate it. It sucks and I don't know where it's coming from or what to do about it.
Well, I guess I do know where it's coming from. I'm sure Benji dying is a big factor. Work is incredibly stressful right now (new duties, bigger responsibility, a boss that now lives in Florida, etc), and while I love how busy I am, I'm sure it's contributing to this down swing. And then there's the whole being surrounded by happily married co-workers, and having mostly friends who are either married or happily committed, thing. I don't think I'm a bitter person when it comes to this and I absolutely don't hold anyone's happiness against them but I won't lie, sometimes it makes me feel so lonely. And it all feeds each other, because I get lonely and depressed and then I eat my feelings and then beat myself up about that and inevitably tell myself that the reason I'm alone is that I'm fat and unattractive and completely don't have my shit together, which leads to being lonely and depressed and eating my feelings. It's a shitty, vicious cycle.
But I know it's temporary. Benji not being here will get easier, or at least more tolerable; things at work will shake out and I'll adjust to the changes and be awesome; I will get my shit together outside of work; I will, eventually, get physically healthy.
For now I just have to take it a day at a time and keep on keepin' on, I suppose.
3.06.2014
Weigh In # 3 (2014)
I'm just posting this to say that I'm skipping my March weigh in. Quite frankly between losing Benji and being insanely stressed/buys at work I just don't have the energy to care what I weigh right now.
I know I'm in the upper 180's and I'd like that second digit to be a 7 when I weigh in on April 1st. Ambitious but not impossible.
I know I'm in the upper 180's and I'd like that second digit to be a 7 when I weigh in on April 1st. Ambitious but not impossible.
3.01.2014
Good Bye Benji
It's been almost a week since Benji died but I'm still having trouble really believing it. I keep expecting to walk into the kitchen and see him all curled up asleep in his bed and it sucks every time I go in there.
I had a feeling it was coming, but still. I wasn't really prepared.
This past Monday (2.24.14) I woke up feeling awful. My period had started the day before and the cramps were horrible. Like really bad medicine wasn't helping at all kinda horrible. I thought about calling in but told myself to suck it up and go to work. Which I did. On the way there I was going back and forth about maybe asking to leave early, etc. I got to work and made it clear that I wasn't feeling well. I posted my payments, suffered through a billing meeting, and then decided that maybe I could stick it out and make it through the day. But I had this nagging feeling that I needed to leave, that I needed to go home, that I just couldn't shake, so around 11 AM, I left.
When I got home Benji was laying on his side by the door, yelping for help because he couldn't get up. I stood him up and he fell over again onto the same side. It was heart breaking. So I put him in his bed and made sure his heater was on and he went to sleep. But every so often he'd kind of whimper.
I went to lay down (since I was still not feeling well) and decided to take Benji with me. He's not generally a very cuddly dog (never really was) but I just felt like it was necessary. I took him in my bed with me and we cuddled for a while--probably about an hour, maybe a little less, and then he started to squirm instead of sleep (like I said, he could really only take so much cuddling) so I put him back in his bed. I kissed him and told him I loved him and told him that if he needed to go, to go. In retrospect I'm so thankful that I came home from work and that I got that little bit of time to just snuggle him. I believe it was divine intervention that I came home when I did.
I slept for a few hours, woke up, checked on Benji, and he was breathing. A little while later I checked on him again and then went to get food. I took Max with me, as always, and I was gone . . . I don't know, 20 minutes? Maybe a little longer? When I got home, as soon as I left Max off his leash he ran over to Benji's bed--something he's never done before--and my heart just sank. When I got to the kitchen Max was resting his head on Benji's feet. And sure enough, my little Benji wasn't breathing.
It was just gut wrenching to see him like that. At the same time, I felt so relieved. I was relieved to know for sure that he wasn't suffering anymore, and relieved that he had passed away at home, in a familiar place, peacefully and without me having to decide to end his life. And at first I was really pissed off at myself that I wasn't home and with him when it actually happened, but then it occurred to me that that was probably for the best. Benji was very, very attached to me, and Jerbs and I agree that he probably would have held on if I'd been home.
I cried. I went to Michael's and bought a pretty little trunk to put his things in (because I'm not going to throw out his collars or sweaters), and then to JoAnn's and bought some really soft paw print fleece to wrap him in. I texted my boss and told her that I still wasn't feeling well and that my dog had died so I wouldn't be in on Tuesday; fortunately she's an animal lover herself and understood. I picked Jerbs up from work and when we got home I gave Benji a bath and groomed him. It was one of the absolute least pleasant experiences of my whole entire life but it had to be done. I mentioned before that with Benji's health deteriorating he absolutely wouldn't let me groom him so he wasn't looking so great.
On Tuesday I called the pet crematory here in Flagstaff and made arrangements to bring him in. Before we left the house I held him and cried and told him how much I missed him already. Taking him to be cremated was so difficult. It was hard to just leave him with someone else, y'know? But I feel really good about that decision and I know it was the best option. And the man who runs the crematory was very kind and caring and very clearly an animal lover himself so I feel like Benji was most definitely in good hands. I was supposed to get his ashes back yesterday (Friday) but I never got a call from them, and they didn't call me today either. I'm trying not to flip out about it and plan on calling them tomorrow to see what's going on. I think I'll feel better, though, once I have his ashes and he's with me again, if that makes sense.
Obviously I'm still devastated. I've cried every single day, and coming home from work just isn't the same without him here. I haven't been sleeping well either. I just hope that Benji knows how much I loved him and I hope that I did enough for him. I hope he died feeling loved and cared for.
It feels different than I expected it to. I always knew I'd break down when I lost Benji. That little dog saved my life as much as I saved his so grief was a given. But I'm not as panicky as I expected. I tend to think of "lasts" when things change drastically. I thought I'd obsess over, say, the last time I kissed him good night, or the last time I fed him, or the last time he begged me for food, and so on. And I thought I'd be sad about all the things he won't be around for. But--and I think this is a result of how much my faith has grown in the past few years--it doesn't really feel like an end to me. Yes, Benji is physically gone. But he's with me now, always, in spirit. I firmly believe that he is in heaven, happy and healthy and getting to be lazy on a big comfy couch, and that he is watching over me. I believe that I gained a guardian angel. I believe that someday, when I die, Benji will be waiting for me when I get to the other side, and that we'll be together, always. And even though I'm in no hurry to go, I look forward to someday seeing him again. And I take immense, immense comfort knowing that I will never really go a single day without him, because he is always with me. He'll know all the things that happen in my life; he won't miss anything, good or bad, that I experience now.
I'm sure that some people reading this might think I'm totally nuts for feeling this way about a dog. And I'm 100% OK with that. Benji was more important to me than anyone could possibly understand, and all that matters to me is that I can grieve and remember him properly. I refuse to be ashamed of how sad I am over this. The truth is that Benji was probably the closest thing I'll ever have to a child and I liked him better than most people, and that life just doesn't feel the same without him.
Honestly, I would re-live any other painful moment in my life a hundred times over if I could have Benji back.
The other day I found myself thinking about the terrible people who had him before I did, who starved him and beat him and thought he was absolutely worthless. They were so incredibly wrong. Benji most definitely had a purpose on this earth and his path was absolutely meant to cross mine. I wonder what they would think now, if they knew what an incredible impact that little dog ended up having on someone's life, if they knew how very important he actually was. I'm sure they never would have imagined such a fate for him.
So now I'm just trying to figure out how to move on. This week I'm going to stain his little trunk and get some pictures printed for my office and (hopefully) get his ashes back. I'm also going to, at some point, get a memorial tattoo for him. I feel like all those things are going to be part of my grieving process and are very necessary for me to be able to function.
At any rate, I am beyond grateful that Benji was a part of my life. He was so incredibly special to me, and so very very loved.
I had a feeling it was coming, but still. I wasn't really prepared.
This past Monday (2.24.14) I woke up feeling awful. My period had started the day before and the cramps were horrible. Like really bad medicine wasn't helping at all kinda horrible. I thought about calling in but told myself to suck it up and go to work. Which I did. On the way there I was going back and forth about maybe asking to leave early, etc. I got to work and made it clear that I wasn't feeling well. I posted my payments, suffered through a billing meeting, and then decided that maybe I could stick it out and make it through the day. But I had this nagging feeling that I needed to leave, that I needed to go home, that I just couldn't shake, so around 11 AM, I left.
When I got home Benji was laying on his side by the door, yelping for help because he couldn't get up. I stood him up and he fell over again onto the same side. It was heart breaking. So I put him in his bed and made sure his heater was on and he went to sleep. But every so often he'd kind of whimper.
I went to lay down (since I was still not feeling well) and decided to take Benji with me. He's not generally a very cuddly dog (never really was) but I just felt like it was necessary. I took him in my bed with me and we cuddled for a while--probably about an hour, maybe a little less, and then he started to squirm instead of sleep (like I said, he could really only take so much cuddling) so I put him back in his bed. I kissed him and told him I loved him and told him that if he needed to go, to go. In retrospect I'm so thankful that I came home from work and that I got that little bit of time to just snuggle him. I believe it was divine intervention that I came home when I did.
I slept for a few hours, woke up, checked on Benji, and he was breathing. A little while later I checked on him again and then went to get food. I took Max with me, as always, and I was gone . . . I don't know, 20 minutes? Maybe a little longer? When I got home, as soon as I left Max off his leash he ran over to Benji's bed--something he's never done before--and my heart just sank. When I got to the kitchen Max was resting his head on Benji's feet. And sure enough, my little Benji wasn't breathing.
It was just gut wrenching to see him like that. At the same time, I felt so relieved. I was relieved to know for sure that he wasn't suffering anymore, and relieved that he had passed away at home, in a familiar place, peacefully and without me having to decide to end his life. And at first I was really pissed off at myself that I wasn't home and with him when it actually happened, but then it occurred to me that that was probably for the best. Benji was very, very attached to me, and Jerbs and I agree that he probably would have held on if I'd been home.
I cried. I went to Michael's and bought a pretty little trunk to put his things in (because I'm not going to throw out his collars or sweaters), and then to JoAnn's and bought some really soft paw print fleece to wrap him in. I texted my boss and told her that I still wasn't feeling well and that my dog had died so I wouldn't be in on Tuesday; fortunately she's an animal lover herself and understood. I picked Jerbs up from work and when we got home I gave Benji a bath and groomed him. It was one of the absolute least pleasant experiences of my whole entire life but it had to be done. I mentioned before that with Benji's health deteriorating he absolutely wouldn't let me groom him so he wasn't looking so great.
On Tuesday I called the pet crematory here in Flagstaff and made arrangements to bring him in. Before we left the house I held him and cried and told him how much I missed him already. Taking him to be cremated was so difficult. It was hard to just leave him with someone else, y'know? But I feel really good about that decision and I know it was the best option. And the man who runs the crematory was very kind and caring and very clearly an animal lover himself so I feel like Benji was most definitely in good hands. I was supposed to get his ashes back yesterday (Friday) but I never got a call from them, and they didn't call me today either. I'm trying not to flip out about it and plan on calling them tomorrow to see what's going on. I think I'll feel better, though, once I have his ashes and he's with me again, if that makes sense.
Obviously I'm still devastated. I've cried every single day, and coming home from work just isn't the same without him here. I haven't been sleeping well either. I just hope that Benji knows how much I loved him and I hope that I did enough for him. I hope he died feeling loved and cared for.
It feels different than I expected it to. I always knew I'd break down when I lost Benji. That little dog saved my life as much as I saved his so grief was a given. But I'm not as panicky as I expected. I tend to think of "lasts" when things change drastically. I thought I'd obsess over, say, the last time I kissed him good night, or the last time I fed him, or the last time he begged me for food, and so on. And I thought I'd be sad about all the things he won't be around for. But--and I think this is a result of how much my faith has grown in the past few years--it doesn't really feel like an end to me. Yes, Benji is physically gone. But he's with me now, always, in spirit. I firmly believe that he is in heaven, happy and healthy and getting to be lazy on a big comfy couch, and that he is watching over me. I believe that I gained a guardian angel. I believe that someday, when I die, Benji will be waiting for me when I get to the other side, and that we'll be together, always. And even though I'm in no hurry to go, I look forward to someday seeing him again. And I take immense, immense comfort knowing that I will never really go a single day without him, because he is always with me. He'll know all the things that happen in my life; he won't miss anything, good or bad, that I experience now.
I'm sure that some people reading this might think I'm totally nuts for feeling this way about a dog. And I'm 100% OK with that. Benji was more important to me than anyone could possibly understand, and all that matters to me is that I can grieve and remember him properly. I refuse to be ashamed of how sad I am over this. The truth is that Benji was probably the closest thing I'll ever have to a child and I liked him better than most people, and that life just doesn't feel the same without him.
Honestly, I would re-live any other painful moment in my life a hundred times over if I could have Benji back.
The other day I found myself thinking about the terrible people who had him before I did, who starved him and beat him and thought he was absolutely worthless. They were so incredibly wrong. Benji most definitely had a purpose on this earth and his path was absolutely meant to cross mine. I wonder what they would think now, if they knew what an incredible impact that little dog ended up having on someone's life, if they knew how very important he actually was. I'm sure they never would have imagined such a fate for him.
So now I'm just trying to figure out how to move on. This week I'm going to stain his little trunk and get some pictures printed for my office and (hopefully) get his ashes back. I'm also going to, at some point, get a memorial tattoo for him. I feel like all those things are going to be part of my grieving process and are very necessary for me to be able to function.
At any rate, I am beyond grateful that Benji was a part of my life. He was so incredibly special to me, and so very very loved.
2.24.2014
2.23.2014
My Benji
I'm sad to say that Benji's health seems to have deteriorated the past week or so. He seemed to be doing really well for a while--eating more than usual and being more mobile than usual--but recently he barely seems interested in food and spends most of his time asleep. I'm sure some of it's just that he's cold (lately he's been whimpering to let us know that the space heater by his bed needs to be turned on) but I'm still freaking out at the prospect of losing him.
I just don't know what to do. I mean, I know he's an old dog and his health has never been fantastic (and may his former owners rot in hell for that), and obviously I know he won't live forever. But still, I am anxious and shaking and I feel like I'm going to throw up because I'm just lost. I've hoped and prayed for a long time that when the time came, he would go on his own. I absolutely do not want to make the decision to end his life; I feel like the only life I have the right to make that decision about is my own and it's just not in me to do it for my dog. And I know I would always wonder if it was the right call. But I also know that I don't want him to suffer, and that if I was really sure that was the case . . . then maybe I could do it.
I don't know. People who have gone through it tell me I'll know when it's time, that it will be obvious if I have to make that choice. I hope that's true.
I wish Benji could talk and tell me either that he was fine, or that he was ready to be finished.
Like I said, right now he's just very very skinny (he's always been thin because of how malnourished his old owners kept him, but it's gotten worse lately) and spends most of his time asleep in his warm bed by his heater. He does get up and walk around still but his hips seem to be bugging him more than usual (again, maybe the cold?). Sometimes I feel guilty for not holding him or petting him more but honestly, I think he just wants to be left alone right now. He needs a bath and a good grooming but he hates both of those things and it's difficult.
I know that I've given him a good life. That he's gotten to spend the last almost 7 years sleeping on soft things and eating good food and not being forced to go on walks or play, because Benji is really just not very dog like. (Seriously, you've never met a less dog like dog than my Benji . . . he hated walks, he never played with toys, rarely liked any treats we gave him . . . whenever I feel like I haven't done enough with him, I remind myself that I spent plenty of time just sitting with him on the couch watching TV, and that that was absolutely plenty for Benji, because he didn't want to do anything else). But there are times when I feel guilty, like I should have done more; I wish I'd had the money to take him to the vet for his teeth, but I just never did.
I just hope he knows how very, very much I love him, and how much he helped me when I was sick, and how grateful I am that I ended up with him when I did. I truly believe that it was some kind of divine intervention and that I needed Benji as much as he needed me.
I think he knows those things. And for now I'm just going to take things day by day and love him as much as I can.
I just don't know what to do. I mean, I know he's an old dog and his health has never been fantastic (and may his former owners rot in hell for that), and obviously I know he won't live forever. But still, I am anxious and shaking and I feel like I'm going to throw up because I'm just lost. I've hoped and prayed for a long time that when the time came, he would go on his own. I absolutely do not want to make the decision to end his life; I feel like the only life I have the right to make that decision about is my own and it's just not in me to do it for my dog. And I know I would always wonder if it was the right call. But I also know that I don't want him to suffer, and that if I was really sure that was the case . . . then maybe I could do it.
I don't know. People who have gone through it tell me I'll know when it's time, that it will be obvious if I have to make that choice. I hope that's true.
I wish Benji could talk and tell me either that he was fine, or that he was ready to be finished.
Like I said, right now he's just very very skinny (he's always been thin because of how malnourished his old owners kept him, but it's gotten worse lately) and spends most of his time asleep in his warm bed by his heater. He does get up and walk around still but his hips seem to be bugging him more than usual (again, maybe the cold?). Sometimes I feel guilty for not holding him or petting him more but honestly, I think he just wants to be left alone right now. He needs a bath and a good grooming but he hates both of those things and it's difficult.
I know that I've given him a good life. That he's gotten to spend the last almost 7 years sleeping on soft things and eating good food and not being forced to go on walks or play, because Benji is really just not very dog like. (Seriously, you've never met a less dog like dog than my Benji . . . he hated walks, he never played with toys, rarely liked any treats we gave him . . . whenever I feel like I haven't done enough with him, I remind myself that I spent plenty of time just sitting with him on the couch watching TV, and that that was absolutely plenty for Benji, because he didn't want to do anything else). But there are times when I feel guilty, like I should have done more; I wish I'd had the money to take him to the vet for his teeth, but I just never did.
I just hope he knows how very, very much I love him, and how much he helped me when I was sick, and how grateful I am that I ended up with him when I did. I truly believe that it was some kind of divine intervention and that I needed Benji as much as he needed me.
I think he knows those things. And for now I'm just going to take things day by day and love him as much as I can.
2.17.2014
Selfies
January 2014 (mid January)
February 17th, 2014
I can see a bit of a difference and it makes me happy. Definitely losing a little in my stomach area. I wish I'd faced the same way both times . . . I'm not really good at selfies haha.
Anyway, I've been slacking the past few days but this makes me want to do better.
And those pictures were taken in the bathroom at work, FYI.
February 17th, 2014
I can see a bit of a difference and it makes me happy. Definitely losing a little in my stomach area. I wish I'd faced the same way both times . . . I'm not really good at selfies haha.
Anyway, I've been slacking the past few days but this makes me want to do better.
And those pictures were taken in the bathroom at work, FYI.
2.14.2014
Valentine's Day Reflections
Valentine's Day has, in all honesty, never been a huge deal to me. I' not too invested in it either way: if I'm attached, I don't go overboard celebrating, and if I'm single, I don't get all bitter and angry. So today was just another day as far as I'm concerned.
But hearing all my happily married co-workers making plans (I am the only single person in my department) did make me feel a little lonely. And it definitely reminded me of how much I miss my ex, and refreshed some of that regret I've talked about before. Because at the end of the day, even with how happy I am and how well I'm doing, that loneliness and regret are still there. Maybe not overwhelmingly so but for sure at the back of my mind.
So Valentine's Day made me think.
At this point it's been almost two years since he told me he didn't want to marry me, and just about a month less that I've been in Flagstaff. I haven't seen or spoken to him since last July.
It's a pretty significant amount of time, yet I am no closer to being over him than I was the day I moved here. Far more mentally stable, sure, and far more capable of living my own life. There's no question that I'm doing better now than I was then. But I'm still not over him.
And sometimes I wonder why, because it should be enough time to let go, right? I mean . . . when this amount of time had passed after Jerbs and I broke up, I was already in love with and engaged to someone else. I honestly thought that time was really going to be what led to getting over it, but that hasn't been the case. Lately it seems that the better I get, the more I want a second chance with him.
I think it's because of the difference in myself.
Back when the break up happened, as completely miserable as I was about it, I knew it needed to happen. I knew how sick I was and I knew that, at that point, I simply wasn't capable of being in a relationship. I wasn't capable of being the kind of partner that I wanted to be and that he needed/deserved me to be. I wanted to succeed at it but I just couldn't. Even when I was engaged to and living with him, even on the good days, I would look at happily married couples (via all my married friends on FB, mostly) and just KNOW that it wasn't something I could attain the way I was then. And I would feel so sad, because I knew I had the right guy, and I would feel so frustrated, because I felt like I was this close to the life I wanted but I couldn't stop sabotaging myself.
But now, I've done a full 180 from those feelings. I know now--with 100% certainty--that I am completely capable of being in a relationship. It's difficult to even put into words because the change has been so dramatic. Things that used to bother me to the point of obsession (I'm not going to go into specifics here but he'd know what I was talking about if he read this) now seem dumb and insignificant and most definitely not worth the grief I let them cause me. I've learned the importance and necessity of accepting someone, flaws and disagreements and all, for who they are. I've learned how little someone's past matters when you genuinely love them and they genuinely love you. I've gotten a lot better at communicating and I think I know how to express myself without flying off the handle or freaking out. (Sad to just be figuring out all those skills at damn near 30 but whatever.
So I think that knowing all those things, and knowing how capable of being in a relationship I am now, makes the fact that it's not happening hurt more. Knowing you can do something makes it extra shitty to not be able to.
I remember once, when I was living in Kingman and he was massively stressed out, I told him how sorry I was for the things that were going badly then. And he looked at me and told me that I was his anchor through all of those bad things. It is still one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me, and I was so happy and flattered to hear him say it, because I wanted to be his anchor. But at the same time I felt terrified, because I knew that I was failing at it. I could do it now. Because I'm pretty awesome now.
I'm sure that someday, eventually, I'll be able to let go--of him and the regret--and love someone else. I don't believe that I'm supposed to end up alone. But I also genuinely believe that I already found the right person for me, and I hope his feelings are the same.
Happy Valentine's Day.
But hearing all my happily married co-workers making plans (I am the only single person in my department) did make me feel a little lonely. And it definitely reminded me of how much I miss my ex, and refreshed some of that regret I've talked about before. Because at the end of the day, even with how happy I am and how well I'm doing, that loneliness and regret are still there. Maybe not overwhelmingly so but for sure at the back of my mind.
So Valentine's Day made me think.
At this point it's been almost two years since he told me he didn't want to marry me, and just about a month less that I've been in Flagstaff. I haven't seen or spoken to him since last July.
It's a pretty significant amount of time, yet I am no closer to being over him than I was the day I moved here. Far more mentally stable, sure, and far more capable of living my own life. There's no question that I'm doing better now than I was then. But I'm still not over him.
And sometimes I wonder why, because it should be enough time to let go, right? I mean . . . when this amount of time had passed after Jerbs and I broke up, I was already in love with and engaged to someone else. I honestly thought that time was really going to be what led to getting over it, but that hasn't been the case. Lately it seems that the better I get, the more I want a second chance with him.
I think it's because of the difference in myself.
Back when the break up happened, as completely miserable as I was about it, I knew it needed to happen. I knew how sick I was and I knew that, at that point, I simply wasn't capable of being in a relationship. I wasn't capable of being the kind of partner that I wanted to be and that he needed/deserved me to be. I wanted to succeed at it but I just couldn't. Even when I was engaged to and living with him, even on the good days, I would look at happily married couples (via all my married friends on FB, mostly) and just KNOW that it wasn't something I could attain the way I was then. And I would feel so sad, because I knew I had the right guy, and I would feel so frustrated, because I felt like I was this close to the life I wanted but I couldn't stop sabotaging myself.
But now, I've done a full 180 from those feelings. I know now--with 100% certainty--that I am completely capable of being in a relationship. It's difficult to even put into words because the change has been so dramatic. Things that used to bother me to the point of obsession (I'm not going to go into specifics here but he'd know what I was talking about if he read this) now seem dumb and insignificant and most definitely not worth the grief I let them cause me. I've learned the importance and necessity of accepting someone, flaws and disagreements and all, for who they are. I've learned how little someone's past matters when you genuinely love them and they genuinely love you. I've gotten a lot better at communicating and I think I know how to express myself without flying off the handle or freaking out. (Sad to just be figuring out all those skills at damn near 30 but whatever.
So I think that knowing all those things, and knowing how capable of being in a relationship I am now, makes the fact that it's not happening hurt more. Knowing you can do something makes it extra shitty to not be able to.
I remember once, when I was living in Kingman and he was massively stressed out, I told him how sorry I was for the things that were going badly then. And he looked at me and told me that I was his anchor through all of those bad things. It is still one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me, and I was so happy and flattered to hear him say it, because I wanted to be his anchor. But at the same time I felt terrified, because I knew that I was failing at it. I could do it now. Because I'm pretty awesome now.
I'm sure that someday, eventually, I'll be able to let go--of him and the regret--and love someone else. I don't believe that I'm supposed to end up alone. But I also genuinely believe that I already found the right person for me, and I hope his feelings are the same.
Happy Valentine's Day.
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