Tuesday, February 19, 2013

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.

I have been blue for pretty much as long as I can remember.  Don't get me wrong, I am not ALWAYS blue, but I have to admit that the majority of my late teens and twenties have been spent in a state on suspended disbelief in a lot of the emotions I experience.  I have been on and off all cocktails of medications meant to make me happy, make me not as sad, make me numb, make my moods more even.  I have been in and out of one doomed relationship after another.  None of them making it too far, none of them making me feel what I thought I needed to be feeling.

I was always waiting for that shoe to drop.  Always waiting for someone better to come along so I would be kicked to the curb, again.  Waiting for my best friend to fall out of love with me.  Waiting for the one I loved to love me back.  Waiting, always waiting.  And worrying.

Something my shrink has told me since I started going to him nearly ten years ago (I was sent to him shortly after I had gotten pregnant - though I didn't know it yet - by my doctor who was worried about some intense mood swings she herself had witnessed... pregnancy hormones perhaps?) was that I am a worrier.  It is in my genes, it is something I will never be able to escape.  It is only ever something I am able to limit and control myself.  Worry about the things I can change, the people I can influence, and my reaction to them.  This is something I battle with every day.  People who know me, know this is no secret.  It becomes ever more apparent when I've been drinking.  My neediness, my desire to please, to put my own wants and needs on the back-burner.

2013 did not start out the way I had planned it to.  I started a new job.  I started back to school.  And I had my heart handed back to me, once again, by my best friend.  Then he disappeared.  I've only seen him once since, and it was my way of "ripping the band-aid off" and letting him know I was still there, still wanted him in my life.  I've gotten very little feedback from him on whether or not that's what he wants.  Either way, things are irreparably over with J.  In the sense of any romantic entanglement.  I hope more than anything that we'll eventually be able to get back to the point we were before this whole nightmare of a relationship began.

School is going well.  I am almost done with my first class, which will hopefully prove to be the hardest one this semester, and as of the first week in March, I'll be starting my coursework for Maternal Health.  If all pans out how I'm hoping it will, I should be set to graduate with my bachelors in a little over a year.  If money is where it needs to be, and I'm able to attend the courses outside of the university that are required and are a separate cost.  I am excited, and scared, and everything bundled into one gigantic emotion.

And I met R.  I'm not going to go into too much detail over this, but suffice it to say, he's different than anyone else I've ever met, or ever been with. We talk in a way that I can't with a lot of people.  He treats me in a way that I've never experienced before.  I know I don't come in fifth, or tenth, or last in his world.  He cooks for me, and encourages me.  It goes past all of that though.  Not only does he encourage me on my goals, but he is there willing to help me along with them.  Wednesdays we go to the gym together.  We push each other.  I teach him about nutrition.  He lets me feel his biceps. :)  Things are good.

Are they perfect?  Hell no.  They never will be.  I think I'm beginning to accept all that.  There are going to be challenges in certain aspects of my life at certain times.  Aiden is going to drive me crazy.  I will have issues at work.  I will fight with my boyfriend.  My apartment will be a pig sty.  But I have also learned that things fall apart so you can learn to put them back together.  Maybe not in the same way they were before, but perhaps a new way.  A better way.

I've hit bottom enough in my life, and kept going through all of the shit and the hell that it brought, and I have continued to keep breathing.  I have survived.  I will continue to do just that.  Is this my moment?

1 comment:

  1. My stomach flips when I see a new post from you. Keep 'em coming!