I hate my mind.
I’m not just saying that out of heightened emotion; I truly detest the way it works.
At the moment at least.
I used to enjoy the analytical side of things, the relatively good memory. It served me well. But now, now all I seem to be doing is remembering things that make me sad.
The snow is incredibly pretty, a white blanket over all the dirt and rubbish, something clean, new, but fleeting. I thought going out in it would be fine, my mind would focus on the moments I had out there, the snow settled on the grass, the ice pooling in the roads, the blizzard-like weather that I walked through by the beach, all of these things should have helped bring my mind into the now. Into the current moments.
At first, it worked. It was nice, I smiled even without realising it.
But it slowly became harder to keep my mind at the moment. I cannot pinpoint where exactly I started to go off-road, but once I was off, I could not find my way back again.
I stood by the front on my way home, shivering in the cold, snow-laden winds, and all my mind could think about was [E]. Her being there would have meant the world. Still.
Is that sad, pathetic, or wrong?
Or worse, does it mean my head is a complete mess? My therapist told me before that I should not bother with unknowns, questions of ‘why’, ‘if’, and to avoid the word ‘but’ at all costs. But it is very hard to kick automatic thoughts.
I was told to accept thoughts into my mind and just let them drift off again. As if it was a mental exercise akin to playing a video game. I struggle to understand how to do this. When I think of [E] I do so fondly, because I still feel for her more than I’d care to currently admit to anyone. I have tried to let these thoughts in, and then simply ‘let them go’ as if they were balloons.
That doesn’t seem to work. How do I do that? I think about her, no matter how small the thought starts, and before I know it, it has snowballed into this magnificent mound of thoughts, feelings, and memories that both bring me joy and sadness in equal measure.
Joy from the memories, because they are, in all honesty, the best memories I have, full stop. But therein lies the sadness: they’re memories, from the past and not current in any form. It’s upsetting because these thoughts lead me down a path of self-doubt, frustration, anxiety, self-loathing, and eventually tears. Not always in that specific order, i might add.
It is tough, but I try to push past them and sometimes I can pull myself through the muddied thoughts, able to smile and enjoy things after. Other times, I dwell too long and feel trapped, when I come out of the hard moments I struggle to keep my anxiety under control because I worry about what people will think of me for still thinking of her. For still caring so much. I feel silly when people ask me how I am doing and I want to answer truthfully, but the fear of their response stops me dead. So, I nod and say “I’m OK, thank you”… I shoot them a fake smile, as confident as I can muster. I hate myself for lying but its easier than facing their looks of disgust or annoyance if I were to say the truth: “I still care about [E] so much. And it’s eating me up inside”…
It’s been over a year since things ended, and I still think about her every day. I wish I’d been stronger and more able to talk to her afterwards. To stay friends and at least have that with her. But the truth is it would have been like stabbing my own heart over and over whenever I saw her with him. I don’t think I’d have been able to do that.
Walking away from it all was easier it seemed, but I still hurt now, and think of her all the time. I sit here and question my every thought. Every choice I made. And it is so bloody frustrating. I know I should not let it get to me so much, but when coping techniques fail and I have to ride it out, its tough.
It doesn’t help when everyone at work is so tense and I pick up and feed off it all. Trying to cut the ‘caring so much about other people’ out of my life is one of the hardest things to do.
Hearing supposed friends say things behind my back that hurts and compounds the loneliness which makes me hate being at work even more than normal. So 4 of my 7 days are spent in a place I dislike, among people I dislike (most of them at least) and when I shut off and shut down, they look at me as if I’m attention seeking or faking it (‘being dramatic‘ one person called it) not one of them has taken the time to ask me about it or talk to me about it and I just want to be left alone at this point. It might not help my situation that much, but being silent and just trying to get through the day is much easier and less painful than pulling people up everytime they do something hurtful…
Sensitive and in pain. People just don’t get it. And, for the most part, are unwilling to try and understand either.
Hating to Love 