2 Years of Evolution

So I was actually going to write this post back at the end of the May (around the 2 year break up anniversary), but then . . . I just got busy and it got pushed to the back burner and I ended up not getting around to it then.

But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that today—the first of July—is actually a more appropriate anniversary for this journey I've been on. Because, even though it was on May 25^th that Ex-Fiance told me he didn't think we should get married, that relationship didn't truly end—and I didn't truly start to focus on myself and getting better—until I moved back up to Flagstaff. And that happened two years ago today.

Honestly, it's hard to even know where to begin when I talk about this. I've changed so drastically since that day two years ago that I barely know how to put it into words. I've talked about it a lot on here, in bits and pieces, but summing it all up is a challenge.

The day that Ex-Fiance drove me to Flagstaff felt like the worst of my life. To say I was miserable would be a pretty major understatement. I remember the anxiety and numbness coming in waves: my stomach knotting up, palms sweating, heart racing, and then a sudden detachment, a sense of almost nothingness, like I was outside of my body and all around not a part of what was going on. I didn't want to be in Flagstaff; I kept thinking that there was no way I was ever going to get better in the place where my life had completely fallen apart. I kept thinking about my nephew and and saying goodbye to him and how awful that had been, and how bitter I was at being forced out of my hometown and away from my family. At the time I had a crappy job and really didn't know how I was going to survive financially. I knew I needed a full time job, but I also knew that I wasn't mentally well enough to hold down a full time job . . . and I wasn't going to be able to afford treatment without a full time job. (How's that for a vicious cycle?). I didn't have a car and I was dreading having to depend on the bus system. And on top of that I had just gotten dumped; I was with the man I loved, the man I had fully intended to spend the rest of my life with, the man I was supposed to have married just the day before, and I knew that at the end of the day he was going to leave. I remember that he stuck around for a few hours, and that I felt like I was going to throw up when he finally said he needed to get going. He kissed me and told me he loved me before he left; I stood on my porch and watched him drive away and wished that I was dead.

On that day my life just didn't make sense. I looked at it from all the angles I could, and it sucked from every single one. I don't think I'd ever felt more defeated than I did that day. My future—to me, at least—looked bleak. Very, very bleak.

Today, two years later, I am happier than I've ever been. And it was just a normal, busy day; I got up, went to work (at both jobs), and came home to Jerbs and my dogs. That's probably the best part about being mentally healthy—that the normal, uneventful, everyday kind of days are happy ones. When I was sick I hated being alive, hated having to live through every day, but now I'm truly engaged in my life and myself. It's such a good feeling.

I've come so far in two years. I got an amazing full time job, and I've been excelling at it for almost 18 months now. I feel like a lot of my personal growth has come from my job at MHC, for a lot of reasons. The financial stability has been great, and has led to a lot less anxiety about money. I've also been able to start getting my credit on track. Aside from that, I feel like I've become a lot more confident about myself since I started at MHC. I've taken on more responsibility there than I ever imagined I would; some of the things that have been added to my work load are things that, when I first started, I didn't think I could do or would want to do. But now, I'm pretty sure I could do anything that was asked of me at work; I'm very confident in my abilities. And the confidence that's come from everything I do at MHC is what let me to be sure I could handle a second job. And let me tell you that having two jobs makes me feel absolutely amazing.

It's also been a great experience to work with people who don't know me as being sick. My co-workers like me, and just think of me as me. And it's been nice to be looked at like a normal person, to have been able to make friends and just . . . I don't know, show people who I really am. When you think about it, my MHC co-workers are the first group of people who have ever met me without knowing anything about my mental health history. And I'm definitely not saying that I feel like other people in my life have been judgmental; I'm just saying that it's kind of nice to have people in my life who never saw me like that. They make me feel normal.

I've stopped overreacting to things. I feel like in the past, things that were pretty small and insignificant would make me freak out. Like changes in schedules or the store being out of something I needed or whatever. Those little things would just make me go ballistic and ruin my whole day. Now, those things just don't bother me. And even bigger things that happen don't bother me as much. Like the flat tire on my way to work last month. Old me would have lost my shit. I'd probably have cried and screamed and kicked my car. I wouldn't have had the money to pay for a tow or new tire and I'd have made Jerbs wake up and meet me so she could take care of it. I probably would have been so upset that I'd have called in to work because I wouldn't have been able to focus after freaking out. And then I'd have come home and thrown myself a huge pity party and thought about all the reasons my life sucked. But instead, I rolled my eyes, grumbled a little bit (because no one WANTS to get a flat tire on their way to work on a Monday morning), and took care of it. I joked with the tow truck driver, passed the time at the tire shop playing Angry Birds on my phone, and then went to work. And that was just that. It didn't even remotely ruin my day.

I've stopped focusing on other people's lives and letting them effect me. Before I dreaded reading Facebook statuses because every little thing just . . . I don't know, made me get all over analytical about my own life. Any time a friend would get engaged or get married or move or get a job or really succeed in any way, I'd have an anxiety attack about the fact that I wasn't succeeding. I felt like a failure and everyone else's successes just reinforced that over and over again. It got to points where I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else and would get far too wrapped up in other people's lives for my own good. Now when I hear about good things happening to other people on Facebook, I'm just happy for them. I'm doing well enough in my own life, at this point, that I can come back to it easily. And even more than that, I want to come back to it. No matter how well anyone I know is doing, I like my own life better. I used to dread the future but now I'm excited about it. I see so much potential in myself and I know I'm going to accomplish great things.

I've stopped feeling like I need to define myself and become more OK with all of the parts of my personality co-existing. Before I felt like I had to pick who I was and whenever I did anything I wondered about how that fit into this over arching definition of me. For example, I remember once I got to thinking that I hadn't done a sewing project in a while. So I decided I wanted to sew something. And what should have been as easy as picking a pattern, grabbing some fabric, and setting up my machine turned into a massive anxiety attack because I just didn't know if I was the type of person who sewed. Does that make sense? My head made it a far bigger thing than it was, I guess. I just didn't know how to reconcile all the things I enjoyed into one personality. It seems so ridiculous now but it was a very serious issue at the time. And now I really get that I can be all the things I like and it's all just part of who I am. I sew, I write, I read, I hike, I work out . . . and it's all fine. I can do all those things without worrying about what they mean.

In general, my mind just feels more mine than it used to. I feel like I didn't used to have a lot of control over where my thoughts would go and what they would do; it was to the point that I couldn't really read books or watch TV or movies because I never knew how they'd effect my thought process. It sounds crazy but it's true. I was so afraid of the anxiety or depression or mania or whatever might come up that I just avoided anything I hadn't read or seen before. And it's silly but I missed those things, and having them back is a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

One thing that I haven't talked much about on here is that I've found my faith since I started this journey two years ago. I used to be a staunch atheist. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all, my views in that area have definitely shifted. I don't know that I'd call myself a Christian, and I haven't read the Bible, and I don't go to church, but I do believe in God. I feel like my faith is something I want to experience on my own terms; I pursue a personal relationship with a higher power and that's that. I will say that I pray a lot, and that I feel very blessed. I see God at work every day in my own life. Like I said, I don't talk about it much, because it's very private.

Right now, I really do love my life. It's not perfect but it's wonderful, and I'm happy. I love where I live, I love what I do, and I love who I am. I am aware, every single day, of how fortunate I am to have gotten where I am from where I was. And I am thankful, every single day, for everything that got me there: for God, for my family, for Jerbs, for my ex, and for my own determination.

It hasn't been an easy journey, but it has been a beautiful one. As much pain and struggle as there's been, I don't think I'd change a thing.

Three Hundred and Sixty Five

I'm really not sure what to say about the one year anniversary but I feel like I need to say something.

It was a quiet, uneventful day.  My co-worker brought her kids over to visit Max (they're the ones I adopted him from) and they and Max had so much fun.  We took Max on a long walk together and when they left, he tried to leave with them; afterward he just sat at the front door and cried.  I took him to PetSmart and ran a few errands, then spent my evening watching LOST on Netflix and cleaning/organizing things around here.

So all in all, not a whole lot to talk about.  I expected it to feel . . . I don't know, more significant, but I didn't actually think about it much.  I mean, in the back of my mind, I was aware, all day, of the one year thing but overall, it wasn't too big a deal.  I thought about calling him more than once but every time I dialed his number I hung up before I even pressed talk.

It's hard to believe it's been a year.  Past that, I don't know what to say, really.  On the one hand this feels like a deadline: if it's been a whole year then it's definitely time to give up and stop hoping and just move on with my life regardless of how strongly I feel I'm not quite ready to do that.  On the other hand this has somehow made me feel more hopeful, in the sense of maybe now it's been long enough.  Maybe now enough time has passed that we can sit down and talk things out and go from there.

Sometimes I look at the past year and I feel like a failure.  I feel like there's so much more I could have accomplished if I'd worked a little bit harder or devoted myself a little bit more.  This is really pretty limited to my weight and physical health--sometimes I look in the mirror and I think to myself, Do you know how much you could have accomplished in a year if you'd just eaten better and worked out more?  And yeah, it disappoints me.

At the same time, though, I know that I have accomplished tons in the past year.  Reading blog entries and FB statuses from this time last year is proof that I'm really a completely different person now than I was then.

First and foremost, my mental health has improved by leaps and bounds.  I'm healthier now than I ever have been as an adult.  I feel like I'm in control of my own mind, I'm not as angry or as bitter, my sense of self gets stronger every day.  And even more than that I'v been able to commit to my treatment.  I take my medicine every day, I go to my doctor's appointments, I get my lab work done when I'm supposed to.  All great things that I definitely wasn't doing as much or as well before.  I don't have anxiety attacks anymore and I can sleep without sleeping pills.  I feel capable.  I do still have bad days but now when I do, they're normal bad days in the sense that whatever made them bad is a legitimate thing to be upset about.  Does that make sense?  Mostly I don't blow things out of proportion anymore, and one little aggravation doesn't ruin my day.

I'm also just . . . I don't know.  At this time last year I was mentally a mess, I didn't own a car, and I was making $8 an hour working in retail.  Now, I'm mentally healthy, was just able to buy a car on my own, and I'm making almost double what I used to be plus working actual full time hours.  It amazes me, because a year ago, I wouldn't have been able to have a full time job given my mental state.

So really, the best thing to say is that I've done well.  I've done as well as I could despite the fact that I got my heart broken and that I'm still heart broken right this very second.

At the end of the day, I still miss Ex-Fiance.  And I still love him.  And I would still really, really like the opportunity for a second chance.

I want him to know me like this.  I want him to see who I really am.  That girl that made him miserable . . . that wasn't me.  That's *not* me.  And I know that I'm at a point where I could be in a relationship and do it successfully, and I want it to be with him.  I still feel, very strongly, that I could be happy spending the rest of my life with him.

So that's that.  Either way--with Ex-Fiance or without Ex-Fiance--I feel like I have a bright future and I'm glad to be alive and healthy.

I remember, just after the break up happened, I was in the back room at the Kingman Hastings with one of my co-workers.  We were talking, and I said something about how scared I was that things might not work out with Ex-Fiance in the end.  And my co-worker said, "So if that happens, then worst case scenario is you survive and come out of this knowing you can handle anything."  I honestly think it was the most useful thing anyone said to me at that point and I've carried it with me and repeated it to myself and now it feels more true than ever.

I'm looking forward to summer.  To my life.  To all the things I have yet to accomplish.

More Mental Shifts

I find that lately (the past two weeks or so) I've been having quite a few positive mental shifts like the one I mentioned before, so I thought I'd write about them.  I am loving this little stage in getting better because it feels like I'm over the hill now, if that makes sense.  Like all the struggling and  trying and treatment is finally really and truly starting to pay off.

I have less social anxiety now, especially when it comes to work.  I used to kind of obsess about how I was being perceived by my co-workers, about how they saw me and how I was doing my job.  I constantly worried that I was rubbing someone the wrong way or irritating someone and there were days when I'd go home and replay conversations from the day over and over in my head.  I don't feel that anymore, or at least not as strongly.  And granted some of that is probably just actually having a good job and good co-workers where I'm respected, but still, my gut tells me that if I'd gotten this job when I was still really sick it would not have gone well.

If anything I now struggle with this in the opposite direction: I have a hard time accepting that nothing's going wrong at work, that my co-workers like me, and that I am trusted to do my job and be competent.  It's an odd feeling.

I'm also better at taking constructive criticism, although I probably still need work in this area.  There are times when I worry that whatever co-worker is telling me to fix something is secretly pissed that I work there.  At the same time I also think that if I was a big problem I'd already have been talked to about it, and they know that I'm still learning.  Still better than I used to be though.

I am less afraid now.  In the past I have definitely been the type to hide from my problems; if it's something I didn't want to deal with, I just didn't deal with it.  I would put off painful conversations, anything to do with bills and money, and anything that made me sad.  I've gotten over this in a big way.  When I need to talk about something now, even if I'm dreading it, I just do it (it's usually nothing big, I just used to be weird!).  I've stopped even giving myself time to hesitate.  Financially, I pay a lot more attention to my money, and I'm in the process of making payments that I was unable to for a long time.  I'm still working on this area because discussions about money just make me nervous, and I still need to sit down and write out a budget but I'm much better than I used to be.  I also take my financial responsibilities seriously, most noticeably in the fact that I've given Jerbs rent money out of every paycheck I've gotten since I started working.  And things that make me sad don't crop up often, but recently, Benji* was in desperate need of a grooming, so I finally sucked it up and shaved him and bathed him.  Grooming him just makes me so sad, because I can feel how frail he is and how old he's getting it, and I hate thinking about how he probably won't be with me much longer.  I think in the past, I wasn't able to put myself through that kind of stuff because I knew that it would always go deeper because I was mentally weak.  But now . . . well, it still made me incredibly sad because I want Benji to live forever (seriously, I love that dog), but it didn't fuck up my life for days.  Benji was pissed at me for a few days (he really hates baths) but whatever.  Basically I was able to do what I had to do and then continue living without over analyzing it or letting it get the best of me, if that makes sense.  In the past I'd have spent a few days moping and crying and beating myself up for being a bad dog owner.

This one is more difficult to explain, but it's also one of the best ones.  I used to have this weird feeling that I was almost outside my own body; like I wasn't invested in my life, but rather was watching from outside it, like I was watching someone else live my life.  It was an odd, odd thing, and it's almost completely gone now.  There are still days when it crops up but I'm definitely at a point where I have an easier time seeing myself in my life and feeling fully engaged than I used to.

I also used to have trouble imagining my future for the same reason.  When I would picture myself down the road, whether it was a month or a year or a decade, I would have this sensation of it just being impossible, like I was, again, on the outside looking in.  I never really knew why this was but I think now that it was because at the time I just literally couldn't conceive of ever being healthy or capable enough to achieve what I was imagining.  This was especially true of my relationship with Corey.  I would imagine us married and living outside of AZ, just being happy together; working and coming home to each other and cooking dinner together and having date nights and going on vacations and so much more, and even though it was beautiful, I also felt very strongly that the woman I imagined doing those things with him just wasn't me.  I felt like I would never, ever be the type of woman who could have that life, that kind of relationship with someone.  But now, that all feels very possible, and when I imagine those things, whether with him or just generally, I genuinely see myself in those moments.  It's beautiful**, and I really, finally believe in the possibility of my own life.

My personal favorite mental shift is that I have stopped having all these weird questions of identity.  I used to spend my days doing nothing because I was so anxious about whether what I wanted to do made sense to my identity.  Like, I'd think, I want to read, or write, or sew, or whatever, and I wouldn't know which one to choose because I didn't know which one was me.  I had no idea who I was (the benchmark of borderline personality disorder), and therefore I felt the need to fit my whole identity into a really concrete definition.  So I'd wonder: am I the type of person who writes? who reads? who sews? who hikes? who whatevers?  It was horrible.  But now, I feel much more relaxed about this, and I realize that I can be a person who does ALL of those things, and that if I go through phases where I prefer one over the other, then that's not a big deal.  I need to do what makes me happy and what I enjoy, period the end.

So I'm doing well.  Very well.  And I love it.
--------------------
*Seriously, I love Benji.  I would give anything for him to be healthy again.  If somehow I could make it that way I would.  But he's not doing so hot right now and I try to just focus on the fact that I gave him the best life he could possibly have and saved him from misery and death.  When he passes I'm going to have him cremated, and then when I die, his urn will be buried with me.  I'm also going to get a memorial tattoo for him.

**The only downside of this newfound sense of possibility is that it makes the breakup even more painful.  It sucks to know that I've finally gotten there--like I can finally legit be with someone in a real way--but that the one person I want to be with . . . well, you know.

The Other Side

Did you know that, in the thick of the breakup last May, I threatened to stop all forms of treatment in response to getting dumped?  I very clearly remember saying to Corey, "I can't do this without you.  Getting better isn't worth it if you're not waiting for me on the other side."

I am ashamed to admit how absolutely I meant that at the time.  At that point, I honestly, 100% believed what I was saying, believed that getting better was a waste of time without having something tangible to do it for.  I didn't want to get better for a life I wasn't happy in, if that makes sense, and that was what it felt like: getting better without him was getting better just to go back to something I already disliked.

I'm glad to be able to say now that I was wrong.

Because now, I am on the other side.  And I got to this place without him waiting here, without him doing a thing to help me get here, and it's just as beautiful for it.

Do you know who was waiting for me?  I was.  Me.  Myself.  The real me.  The person I'm supposed to be.  The healthy version of myself.  (And yes, I know how cheesy that is).

This journey has been worth it.  As much as I regret how badly I screwed things up with Corey (I'm going to post about that soon) and as much as I do wish he'd been here to share it with me (because having to do it alone and wanting to do it alone are different things), I have to say that looking back, I really don't know that I could have attained this level of mental health with him in my life.  Which is not to say he was keeping me sick, but more that I really did need to be able to completely focus on myself.

I think deep down I always knew I'd have to do it on my own.  I think I knew that even before Corey came around.  Self reliance has been the most significant thing I've gained from this, and I am grateful for that.

And I have to say that now that I'm here, on the other side, I have no intention of ever going back.

Simple

Something I've noticed lately (probably over the past few weeks, maybe a month) is that my feelings towards Ex-Fiance have changed quite a bit.

What I feel hasn't changed.  I still love him, I still miss him, I am still hoping for a chance to reconcile and be together again.  In fact, those feelings have actually increased since I moved back to Flagstaff.

But these feelings have become much simpler.

When we first broke up, it felt so complicated in my head.  Especially once I moved.  I was just constantly wondering about the break up and asking myself what went wrong.  I'd feel insanely angry and bitter and just want to scream, then I'd feel so depressed that all I wanted was to sit and cry.  I looked back over the relationship and picked out issues that drove us apart and thought of how they could be corrected.  I thought of specific moments that were bad between us.  I wondered where he was and what he was doing and how he was without me.  I panicked, over and over and over again, at little reminders of him and that life.

And now . . . now all I think is that I miss him and love him.  And that I want very badly to see him.  I want to put my arms around him and bury my head in his shoulder like I used to.

I know that those things would just be a beginning.  I know that if anything is going to happen, there are things we'll need to discuss and work out figure out, and I know that probably won't be easy or pleasant.  But I'm at a point where it doesn't scare me anymore.  Where however hard it's going to be to rebuild, it's worth it, because I love him enough to stick it out.

I think this is a good thing.  I think maybe this is something I needed to realize.  I think our relationship was one where we both became so focused on the problems and issues that we sort of lost sight of just loving each other.  And I feel like that no matter what, that's the most important thing, and that a sincere love for each other should be at the base of any serious relationship.

I feel ready to talk things out.  I feel ready to start this conversation.  Between how much better I'm doing mental health wise, how strongly I feel about Ex-Fiance and how much those feelings have gone back to basics, and how confident I feel in my ability to move forward with him . . . I'm ready.  I just feel like I'm at a place where I could have that conversation and have it be successful--where we could rebuild things and be better at it.  It's hard to put into words but it really is how I feel.

I think back to basics is a good place to be as far as the relationship goes.  I want a fresh start and I think that's the best way to get it.

Pins & Needles

I'm on pins and needles waiting to hear back about the administrative assistant job.

I am just really excited about it, and I really really really want it.  I've already been thinking of what I could do with the extra income and how awesome it would be to work in a nice office and on a regular schedule . . . yeah, my hopes are pretty high.  If I don't get it I know I'll be kinda crushed.

I just hope I'm right about how well it went and that she didn't actually hate me and just hid it really well.

Hopefully this works out.  I need it to.

She said they wanted to hire quickly so I'm expecting to hear from her today or tomorrow, and no later than Wednesday.

My fingers and toes are crossed and I've said quite a few prayers and wished on some stars!

The Thing Is

Ex-Fiance has been on my mind a lot lately.  I think about him and I think about us, and I think about what went wrong between us and how we'd go about fixing it if we decided to.  I remember things and I think about just what it was like to be with him.  The memories feel weird now--like it's been so long since I saw him or touched him or kissed him that they've faded and almost don't seem real.  Sometimes it feels like it was a dream, other times I just feel amazed in this, wow, how could that have been my life kinda way.  Sometimes I wonder what it would/will feel like if/when we saw/see each other in person again.  I haven't seen him since July 15th so it's been quite awhile.

I miss him.  I really do.  And there are days when that is very overpowering, when I feel it in my entire body. When it's more a state of being then a feeling.  And I don't anticipate that going away anytime soon.  I still hope very much that Ex-Fiance's thinking of me too and that we will eventually be able to discuss us and be together.

The thing is, though, that this separation and my being here was absolutely the right thing to do.  I've read some of my entries from before I left Kingman and when I was first here and I remember how miserable I was, but now . . . now I can't imagine having stayed.  Our relationship really had suffered and I really wasn't doing well, and I see that now.  So even though I think Ex-Fiance handled it poorly . . . this was right.  Hopefully not right forever, but definitely right for right now.

Right now, I feel more mentally healthy than I have in a long time.  I'm not panicky, I'm not constantly angry, my moods don't change quite so quickly.  I'm not perfect by any means, and I know that I've got a long way to go, but I'm much closer to where I want to be now than I was before.  I'm doing really well taking my medicine--again, not perfect, because I really am forgetful--but it's much better.  I feel very open to counseling and I'm looking forward to starting that.  I think that's the big thing now--I feel more ready to just kick this crap and be done with it and live my life.  I've wasted enough time already--NO MORE.  Definitely a good thing.

I feel less anxious about where my life is going.  I used to wonder almost 24/7 what I was doing with my life and what I should be doing and stuff like that, and I was always anxious as hell about it.  I always felt like I was behind and like I'd done something wrong and I constantly compared myself to everyone else.  These feelings aren't totally gone and there are times when hearing from or about my engaged or married friends when I feel a pang of anxiety but overall, I feel much more comfortable living MY life and being on MY path now.

I've decided to go back to school and get my Masters in English, and then from there pursue my PhD.  I think deep down that's what I've always wanted to do, but I felt like it would be a waste of time to spend so much of my life in school.  I think there are a lot of reasons I felt that way but now, I think more along the lines of if it's really what I want to do with my life then I should do it.

I'm also writing again, which is fantastic.  And I'm losing weight and I'm not eating fast food.  Generally, I'm doing well.

My moods aren't perfect.  I still have my bad moments.  But now most of those bad moments feel like they're just because I'm human, not because I'm bipolar.

Now, one question that pops up in my mind for me is, why was I never able to do this stuff with Ex-Fiance around?  Why couldn't I be in a relationship with him and make this kind of progress?  And I think it's because my mental illnesses attacked Ex-Fiance so much that he, essentially, became part of them.  He became a toxin, in a way, and I needed to be away from him to actually get better.  Plus I was always so focused on him that I couldn't focus on myself.  And I think there was a part of me that thought that any change on my part, even if it was changing to get better and was positive, would make me different, and then I wouldn't be the woman he wanted.  I know that's irrational but still.

Ultimately, though, Ex-Fiance wasn't holding me back.  My mental illness was and it reflected on him. Ex-Fiance was never really a bad partner (I mean, he wasn't perfect and he had his moments but he was never awful).  It was just my mind's perception of him that screwed things up.  And that's why I take so much of the responsibility for what happened--because I did have a good man who loved me, but I wasn't healthy enough to have that.

Sometimes I wonder if my mind will ever be strong enough for me to combine my life with someone else's.

I do know that I'm going to keep working at myself.  And I'm going to keep getting better.  And my life is going to go where I want it and I am going to be happy.

A Milestone

Last night I entered my first creative writing contest.

I'm pretty excited about it!

I'm also just pretty excited that I finished a writing project in general.

I finished a writing project!!  That's something I haven't done in a long, long time.  The last time I finished a writing project was before I met Corey, and that particular project was only semi-original.  And I have wanted to be a writer since I was 5 years old.  So this is kind of a big freaking deal.

And who knows?  Maybe I'll win or place.  Even if I don't, I'm still damn proud of myself for being able to finish something to enter.

Just the fact that something is finished feels amazing to me.  This particular short story is one I've had in my head for years and in a way, I feel like a weight is lifted now that I've finally used the idea.  And my confidence has definitely gotten a boost--if I could finish that project then I can finish more.

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But there is also something bittersweet in this.  And it has to do with Corey (are you surprised?).

Finishing a writing project means I did something for myself.  I did something because I enjoy doing it and it is an interest of mine.  I did something that is potentially a part of the career I see for myself, and that puts me closer to being a successful writer.  And there is just this odd sense of life going on, and it's kind of weird to think that I'm living for myself and working on myself when this huge part of my life just ended and this huge part of myself still feels completely wrecked from it, if that makes sense.

I guess it shows me that I can do it.  That whatever is or isn't going on with me and Corey, I've got my own life to live.  And it makes me feel like I can do all the other things I need to do, like therapy and all that.  And that's a good thing.
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I'll know by Dec. 31st what the results of the contest are.  Fingers crossed!!

2 Months

As of today I've been back in Flagstaff for two months.

Two.  Freaking.  Months.

That is just so bizarre to me.

I miss:
--having a car and not taking the bus
--the Kingman store and how organized and well run it is
--my awesome co-workers
--Anytime Fitness/working out in general (God I feel out of shape right now)
--orchestra
--bell choir (really I just miss having any kind of musical activity in my life)
--playing Legos/going to the park/watching Toy Story/painting/reading/whatever with Austin (so so much)
--hanging out with my mom and dad just whenever
--having my sisters nearby
--Herkimer, Gatsby, Bernard, Edgar (RIP), and the fishies
--sleeping in a real, comfortable, big bed
--having enough closet space for my clothes
--my sewing machine (definitely a priority as far as what I bring up next)
--having a kitchen I could cook in
--my big bathroom and deep bathtub and awesome showerhead
--sex (a lot)
--date nights
--Ex-Fiance and pretty much everything that goes with that

But even with all the things I miss, I do think that moving back to Flagstaff was the best choice in light of the situation.  I was thinking the other day of what the past two months would have been like if I was in Kingman, and I think it would have been awful.

I was just thinking of going out in Kingman and worrying that I'd run into him, or wondering what he was doing at any given time, or going to orchestra or bells and not knowing how to act around him or what to say to him . . . it doesn't sound pleasant.  And granted, I wonder what he's doing from time to time but somehow it's easier up here, because I can't really do anything about it.  Whereas in Kingman I think the temptation to drive by the house or even just call him would be really awful.  I also think about wanting to go out or needing to go grocery shopping and having to call my mom or dad or ask my sister for a ride, and I don't like that idea.  Even though the bus kinda sucks, it's more independence than I'd have in Kingman.

I still miss that life.  Some days my mind will be on something totally unrelated and it'll hit me out of nowhere--I had a whole other life for a while.  I was doing something completely different and it's such a weird feeling and thought.  But at the same time I think that with the advantage of hindsight I see how much I needed to work on myself and how unhappy I was at points.  So in that respect, I'm . . . well, I'm not glad this happened by any means, but I understand why it was necessary.  I just need to be patient and take things day by day and see what happens.  If Ex-Fiance and I are meant to be we'll be.

Two months down and . . . I don't really know how long to go, but we'll see!

A Confession

Quite a few times since Ex-Fiance broke up with me, I've had these moments where I suddenly feel overwhelmed with this thought of, I was supposed to be married by now.*  And it usually makes me sad, or bitter, or angry, depending on how my day is going at the time.

And then last night I was hanging out with Jerbs and my friend Theresa, and that thought hit me, and instead of any negative emotion, I felt relieved.

I am relieved that I am not married right now.

Don't get me wrong.  My feelings for Ex-Fiance haven't changed, and I still want to be married someday.  And yes, I'm still very sad that I didn't get to experience being a bride and a wedding and all that.

But the thought of getting married feeling the way I was in our relationship . . . I can't imagine doing that.  Because the truth is I didn't want to get married with the way things were; I knew I wasn't mentally healthy enough to do it.  But I didn't want to initiate a break because I was afraid that Ex-Fiance wouldn't wait for me.  The thought of being in Kingman right now, in a new marriage, still struggling with mental illness makes me sick to my stomach.

That is not what I want.  That is NEVER what I wanted.

I was adamant from the very beginning that I didn't want to get married mentally ill.  I feel like I've already lost a chunk of my life to mental illness--I flat out refuse to sacrifice one second of my marriage to it as well.  I feel like my marriage (be it to Ex-Fiance or someone else) will be the most important, sacred, beautiful, meaningful thing in my life, and I don't want the bullshit in my head touching that.  Yes, I was getting better, but I was nowhere near where I needed to be to be a good partner.

And I think that's why this happened.  Because as much as I love Ex-Fiance (and as much as I know he loves me) there is no way we could have made a marriage work with mental illness still being so much a part of me.

So for those reasons, I'm relieved that we didn't go through with it.  I hope we do someday but . . . I really don't want to get married until we're ready.  It's just difficult because I feel like, if we're meant to be we're wasting time.  But I tell myself that I'm only 27 (and Ex-Fiance's only 24) and there's plenty of time left to live together and be married and experience life together.

Do I think Ex-Fiance handled this all as well as he could?  God no.  Am I expecting a huge ass apology if we decide to work things out?  Damn right I am!  But do I think he had a point? . . . Yeah, I do.

The thing is, I know what I need to do to get really and truly better, and I'm going to make it happen.

*I don't mean supposed to be as in I'm a girl so I have to be married to a man before I'm 30 or whatever.  I just mean it as in, Ex-Fiance and I had planned to be married in December of 11, then March of 12, then June of 12, so really, I expected to be married now.

Two Years

Today it's been two years since Ex-Fiance and I "met."

I say "met" because we were actually introduced back in October of 2009, but then we didn't speak to one another again until August 12, 2010.  (Yes, I know the exact date.  I am one of those girls).

So naturally knowing this is giving me some anxiety.  This isn't really an anniversary we celebrate but we acknowledged it last year.  And this year it's difficult because we're in separate cities, not speaking . . . it sucks.

I can't tell you how many times in the last two years I've thought back to that random chance encounter (at WalMart, of all places!) and just been amazed that something so insignificant was the beginning of the rest of my life.

I wonder if Ex-Fiance remembers?  (He might, he's actually pretty good with anniversaries).

There's just kind of this thought in my head that missing this anniversary together this year is somehow a bad omen.  Like we're wasting time, almost.  Like it won't end up working out between us.  But I tell myself that there'll be an August 12th next year too, and that just because we miss this this year doesn't mean anything.  It's all just part of our story--which hopefully has a beautiful ending up the road.

Sometimes I feel so stupid for thinking it might still work out.  Because . . . well, from Ex-Fiance's end it really seems like it won't.

And in about a week it'll be the two year anniversary of our first date (which was the best first date EVER).  And September 20th marks two years of being officially together.  So our real anniversary.  I expect that one'll be hard.

So Ex-Fiance, if you're reading this, please know that I love you very much.  I still think that night two years ago was the start of our forever, and I hope so much that you feel the same way.  I hope someday this stupid being apart crap will just be a memory and that we'll be happy together.

Anticipating Heartbreak

School starts for Ex-Fiance this Thursday, the 9th, and I'm very anxious about it.  I'm anxious because I feel like his life is really actually moving on without me now.  I'm anxious that he'll meet some pretty new teacher who's kind and sweet and not crazy and fall in love with her.  I'm anxious that I won't get to wake up with him that morning and watch him get dressed and kiss him goodbye.  (It's weird, but one of my favorite parts of living with him was watching him get dressed and ready for work in the morning).

Anyway.  I guess ever since I got to Flagstaff I've kind of held out this hope that he'd call me on his first day of school to tell me about it.  Just because I think we still have a connection and . . . well, I kind of hope he'd want to tell me about it.

But I know that's not going to happen.  He's not going to call me or text me on Thursday, because he just never does.

And I know my heart's going to break.  But at least I can anticipate these things now.

I have more to write about, like how I'm now totally unmedicated, how I can hardly focus long enough to shower, how I'm sick of no one calling me for a damn job, how Hastings is only giving me 9 hours of work next week, how badly I want to work on some creative writing projects and how frustrating it is that my head won't let me, and how I just hope like hell that once my labs are done the results get to my doctor fast and I have med refills by the end of the week--but I'm too tired to go into any detail right now.

Breakdown

A couple nights ago--Wednesday night--I had a breakdown.  A pretty bad one.

It was the first one I'd had in a few weeks (since I moved at least) so that's a pretty good thing.  But still, it sucked.

I don't know why it happened, really.  I think it was just a combination of all the stuff in my head about Corey, and being completely exhausted.  Wednesday I finally went back to work and even though I didn't work til one, I had to be up at ten to get ready in time to catch the bus.  So naturally I couldn't sleep Tuesday night and didn't actually fall asleep until close to six Wednesday morning.  So I had to go back to work on very, very, very little sleep, and after work I had to run to catch the bus so . . . yeah.  It was a blah kinda day.  Plus the store here . . . I just don't like it, to be honest.  It's disorganized and unstructured and poorly run and I miss the Ktown store.

So anyway.  I came home grouchy and then just broke down.  Same ol' same ol' breakdown . . . bawling my eyes out and this intense, directionless anger that actually makes me feel like I'm overheating.  This anger is the absolute worst symptom of these breakdowns, because it is so uncontrollable.  I feel like it literally takes over me and I can't stop it.  And no outlet will satisfy it; everything I do just makes it worse.  I cried and screamed and punched the chair I was sitting in and threw a book across the room.  I wanted to yell and scream at someone--I wished Corey was here so I could tell him how disgusting of a person I think he is.  I just wanted to take it out on something but I knew nothing would help.

I thought about cutting myself.  I thought about swallowing all the Lithium I have left and hopefully dying from it.  It was that bad of a breakdown.

And after the rage started to subside I cried for a little while, and then I apologized to Jerbs and she cuddled me for a bit, and I felt better.

So even though yes, I had a breakdown, the silver lining is that last sentence.  I FELT BETTER.  I calmed down and then I was . . . OK.  I mean, I wasn't in the best mood ever after, I was a little blah and out of it but that's better than how I felt during the breakdown.  And that is an incredible amount of an improvement.  Because before, these breakdowns would last hours, whereas this one was maybe 20 minutes total.  And before, even after the breakdown, I'd be a total grouch for a few hours at least, and most of the time for even longer--sometimes days after the breakdown.

So I am getting better.  I am improving, and I am making progress.  Thank God!

Flagstaff Days 1 and 2

Well, I have survived my first two full days in Flagstaff, without Ex-Fiance.

Yesterday was really good.  I slept in and then went out via the bus.  I went to Hastings but didn't get to meet my boss, unfortunately; I went to Bookman's and had tea, I went to JoAnn and Michael's and PetSmart, then I met Jerbs for dinner at Chipotle.  (I love Chipotle).  Then we wandered around Sallys, Ross, and Bed Bath and Beyond before we caught the bus home.

I was happier than I thought I would be, that's for sure, and in a way, I was happier here yesterday than I was in Kingman.  I definitely wasn't expecting that; I thought I'd be breaking down.  But there is just something about Flagstaff that I like.  I mean, before I moved back to Kingman, I thought of Flagstaff as toxic.  There were so many bad memories (everything that went wrong with Jerbs, being forgotten by my college friends after I graduated, getting sick and all that went with it, what happened when I started dating Ex-Fiance) that I was beyond ready to leave.  And I still maintain that I probably wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life here.  But being here and being more mentally healthy than I was a year ago makes this town tolerable.  I think it's that Flagstaff is the type of place I want to be.  I want to be somewhere green and a little rainy and cooler, somewhere that's a little more liberal and tolerant (because Kingman is a VERY conservative town), somewhere that's bigger than Kingman but not huge, somewhere that's got an art community.  I like those things, and when I'm here, I almost feel like I have more potential.  Like when I'm here, I feel like it's more OK to focus on my writing, if that makes sense.  Maybe the potential thing is because in my head I associate Flagstaff with being in college, and back then I really did feel like I had potential.  Granted, the thought of college has some negative connotations in my head too, but still.  While we were at Bed Bath and Beyond and Ross, we were looking at bedding and shower curtains and home stuff, and I was thinking about how awesome it would be to be able to have my own place and decorate it however I wanted and just make it my own . . . I don't know that that'll ever happen, both because of finances and the fact that I want to be in a relationship but still, it was a pleasant daydream.

There is also a sense of relief that comes from being away from Ex-Fiance.  Or away from our relationship, maybe.  I don't know, but either way, I feel like a lot of stress has been cut out of my life.  I feel more relaxed; I don't feel like I'm being judged because I'm not totally neat and organized.  That's one thing about me and Ex-Fiance: I'm fairly disorganized and maybe a smidge messy, Ex-Fiance's a neat freak.  And even though we should have balanced each other out, I think we always just stressed each other out.  If I didn't get the house clean was at work I'd feel awful, and I'd feel like he was judging me for it.  Here, I've got Jerbs, and she doesn't judge me for anything; she never has.

It's also about context, though.  I'm not in a relationship with Jerbs, so really, I don't care too much what she thinks of me.  I don't ever feel like I have to impress her.  With Ex-Fiance, I think because we were in a romantic relationship, I felt pressure to be perfect.  And I think he felt the same, and we were both stressed and not sure how to relax around each other.  And it's crappy but I guess it's something we need to work on.

Don't get me wrong.  I miss Ex-Fiance like crazy and I still maintain that I want to be with him eventually.  But I don't think I realized how much I needed a little space as well.

Anyway, so I felt good all day yesterday, and then just before bed my mood kinda dropped.  I just felt angry and frustrated and annoyed--I think it was a combination of heat, being tired, aggravation with Hastings, and something else--and I wondered if maybe the day had been a fluke.  Like I was going to have one good day since it was new and then crash.

Today wasn't as good as yesterday but it was still good.  Jerbs was off so we went downtown and had lunch and wandered around the shops; then we went to the mall and wandered around.  It was fun.  We came home and I made some actual progress unpacking (I hate packing and unpacking).  And now I really should go to bed but I'm not all that tired.

So it's been better than expected so far.  There have been some frustrations.  One of Jerbs' cats thinks I'm her new mom and keeps trying to cuddle with me while I sleep and wake me up by bringing me toys to play with.  Jerbs' other cat thinks I'm Satan and does this meow scream thing whenever I come near her . . . but she lets me pet her, she just keeps screaming the whole time.  So weird.  And the Hastings corporate office is taking their time with my transfer, so it hasn't gone through yet, so I'm not on the schedule yet.  In the 2 seconds I met my new boss he said hopefully by the end of the week, which means I probably won't be working until next week.  So that SUCKS.  I won't lie, I'm ok with having more time to unpack and clean and settle in but still . . . I need money.  I'll skip unpacking to work, I don't mind.  I'm also sore all over from sleeping on my air bed (oh my gosh I miss Ex-Fiance's and my bed), and I'm annoyed that Ex-Fiance hasn't called or texted me since he left (except to tell me he made it back to Kingman), and I thought he'd call to check up on me.

Plus this place just isn't home, and I feel sort of like I don't have a home right now, y'know?  It depresses me a little.  It's also disorienting to be back in this city in this apartment complex with Jerbs, because it feels a lot like life did before I met Ex-Fiance.  So I almost feel like that never happened--like I went back in time or had this life on pause and just came back to it or something.  Very strange.

Anyway.  That's all for now.

Just So Strange

I've been working on packing (I've packed a few boxes and am sort of trying to organize the rest of what I need to pack kinda thing) and it's just got me thinking.

Corey is going to drive me to Flagstaff and help me move in to Jerbs' apartment.  And it just occurred to me how strange that trip is going to be.  What the hell do you say to someone in that situation?  I mean, Corey and I are doing ok and right now we're in a decent place with each other (affectionate, caring, etc) and I don't think that'll magically disappear over those 142 miles.  But still, it feels like it could be awkward.  At the very least it'll be weird.

Another weird thing is how I think it'll feel if we work things out.  I think the best thing to do if we decided to try again would be to just kind of start fresh, or at least with a clean slate.  And I was just thinking it'll be very strange to introduce him as my boyfriend when I've already lived with him and shared a life with him.  Y'know?  It's just strange because we already have a history together, we already have a past.  How do you start over with someone you've already been so intimate with?

I know this isn't that big of a deal.  If we get back together it won't be so much starting over as coming back to the relationship with a clean slate and a clear head.  We'll come back and all of that good history will still be there, all of those beautiful pieces of our past, but our future will look a lot brighter.  I'm not saying we'll totally forget about the bad things but we'll be able to put the past behind us; we'll be able to look at the good parts of the past and be happy about them, but we'll be able to leave the bad things behind enough so that we can be happy together in the present.

The thing is, I'm excited for this.  I'm excited for the eventual opportunity to start a little fresher with Corey.  Sometimes I think how excited I am is what's making me anxious and miserable, because I just want that, and I want it now.  I think this will get me to a place where I can be the person I always wanted to be within the relationship.  But more on that later.

For now, it's bed time!