Cycling Out the Poison

 My emotions have been getting an intensive workout the past three months, and I'm writing this to help categorize what emotions are coming from events in my life, my chronic depression, or my ADHD and resulting emotional dis-regulation.

I finally broke up with my boyfriend, an action over which I have been oscillating agonizingly for far too long. It was a difficult series of conversations, but we both handled it with grace and have been able to retain a friendship. This is helpful considering we must live together until I find a new place or the lease ends in February, whichever comes first.

I pushed myself to become comfortable with getting back into dating rather soon; for two reasons. First, I was having difficulty getting back into shape/getting healthy and I knew the idea of meeting someone new would light a fire under me. Second, I needed something exciting in my life while I improved on the things which wore on me, such as my living situation.

Because I had been unhappy for so long with my now ex, I had already moved on. This was a large part of the trapped feeling I had. I was over it. It was dead. Not fully facing and acknowledging it was hurting me. That said, I did grieve for the relationship after the official breakup, but it did not last very long - maybe a day. I was just happy to be free from it. I was therefore not wary of falling into the pitfall of leaping immediately from one long-term committed relationship right into another, as people do. I wanted to get into dating, yes, but mostly to get the rusty gears going, and enjoy my freedom.

I reconnected with someone I had met a couple years ago, and he immediately asked me out. We have been seeing each other for almost two months and despite having initiated the connection in more ways than one, he keeps me at arms length and claims to be guarded because of past experiences. This kind of thing is always frustrating to me, but it might be just as well, as his hesitation gives me opportunity to continue to enjoy my freedom.

I do, however, have the (perhaps unfortunate tendency) to fall hard and fast for someone who inspires me on a creative level, and he is intensely inspiring to me. Thus I experience a ridiculous high when he talk, when I know that we will meet up, when we are together, and subsequently experience a dramatic crash afterwards. The high and low is crazy, and it's honestly something I haven't felt in a long, long time and thought never to feel again after the end of my teen years. It's been inspiring in and of itself just to know that I have not aged past such intense feelings. I have considered that such feelings, while not toxic by themselves, could lead to toxicity. Fortunately, such intensity is not sustainable, especially when it is one-sided. It burns itself out. Thanks to caution, introspection, retrospection, and many tears, I believe that I am on the other side of this. I won't know for sure until I see him again, and frankly I'm not looking forward to it. Those whole connection feels like the delicate balance of a tightrope; too much slack and it doesn't support its reason for existence, too much tension and it will snap both becoming of no use and even possibly harming people.

I have been attempting to "date around," and to that end I had gotten onto a dating app. Through it I struck up conversation with about a dozen men, four of which I progressed to giving my phone number for texting. I met up with two of those. I will be going on a second date with one of those. My date with him helped to disperse the cloud of euphoria surrounding my first connection. It brought be back to earth. Thank goodness.

Onto the frustration of finding a new home. It is high time for me to once again live by myself. However, the area in which I find myself is naturally a bit expensive and this current market makes things doubly difficult. It has therefore been incredibly difficult to find something.

The dual frustration of a confusing romantic situation and not being able to find a new apartment is serving to saturate me in melancholy. It's been difficult to maintain the sharp focus to better myself and my life that I had been enjoying up until this point.

It's been a whirlwind. I went on a stark diet and worked out mercilessly, losing about twenty pounds in a couple months. I went on dates for the first time in over six years. I feel physically healthy and generally hopeful. Now I just have to adjust my coping to accommodate my more fluid life. That's been good for me, too. Being so stuck in the mud made me miserable and now I'm living life.

Life is pain, though. Life is beauty and pain. The more you get of one, the more you get of the other.

I'm still very grateful for what I have and for what said confusing situations are affording me. Feelings are still feelings. Not being numb and jaded is a gift in and of itself. I am blessed.

Pain and Fear

     Once again, I find myself awakened to a bitter reality from a lovely dream. All at once I faced all of my fears the dream represented while mourning its fiction, and I feel that I may collapse into myself with the pain of it.

    Recently, after spending too much time being complacent and drowning in self-sabotage, I pulled myself out of the pit once again, facing the fact that my relationship is going nowhere and in fact hurts my feelings. For the past three (maybe even four) years, doing this demanded action, and when I faltered I would punish myself with extremely unhealthy coping actions which included binge-eating junk food and escaping into escapist sedentary hobbies. This combined with the frustration and anger surrounding the world's reaction to COVID-19 doubled the depression and created an especially deep and dark pit. I have been successfully pulling myself out nonetheless, facing doubts, fears, negative self-talk instead of falling back into comfortable addictions to silence them. Once again, I told my boyfriend my feelings about our relationship, and to my immense relief (and admittedly, to my shame), he was emotionless in the revelation and suggested a break. It's almost ridiculous in its inaction, since we haven't been intimate in a very long time - however, I shoved down the smug nature of that particular self-talk and turned it into a victory. It is progress; a step forward.

    Finally, I have money saved up to move out. Finally, I have enough money to live by myself. Finally, I have begun the break-up that is necessary to re-boot my life. In six months, the lease is up, and it seems like I'm waiting forever. Finally, I have the emotional freedom to pursue a new romance, if the situation presents itself. This is exciting and scary. It's scary because of something I am facing once again this morning - the intense and paralytic fear of actually being happy combined with the desperate desire for it. I have not been truly happy for so long.

    Last night I had a dream that seemed so realistic. It had no random and whimsical elements to give it away and anything out of the ordinary was logically explained. It seemed so real. This dream involved a new romance with someone I previously had a bit of a crush on. In this dream, just the flirtation gave me the added strength to formally end things with my boyfriend and give me the boost for a fresh beginning - even though nothing may happen with this person. I would rather be single and empowered than trapped in perpetual stagnation and sadness. The romance did blossom, however, demonstrated in a passionate kiss which further obliterated any cloudiness or indications that I was only dreaming. He revealed that he'd had feelings for me for a long time. The old doubts were present - though I did not voice them -  that he couldn't possibly have had such feelings for me; he was too clever and attractive. We worked together, and I looked forward to seeing him on the occasions when our shifts lined up. Despite my efforts to the contrary, my now ex-boyfriend found out that I was pseudo-involved with someone and became bitter towards me because of this. I didn't let this dissuade me or make me feel guilty. This was an added triumph. I was able to banish the doubts that I was actually worthy of someone's pursuit. I felt so good. I felt like I'd finally made it out of the pit.

    When I awoke, I felt as if I had been away for some time. As I became re-oriented with what I realized was reality, a familiar regret and sadness washed over me. All at once I was faced with the fear that the situation from my dream may never happen and that I have neither the attractiveness or youth to inspire such interest from such a person. Usually this fear, in a muted form, is always with me, but this morning it is vivid and cruel.

    In this moment of visceral pain and fear is still triumph. I cannot be dissuaded from my path to light into the old ways by this torture. I cannot be stunted in my growth by looming mortality. I will forge ahead, and if I spend the rest of my life never feeling the sunny warmth of and excitement of a man's love ever again, at least I will have succeeded in honoring the temple that is my body, and the God who created it.