I don’t want to find out. I don’t want to know.

I think it’s starting to hit me now.  They’re gone.  And there’s nothing I can do.

You’ve  probably read books, stories, whatever that contained the phrase, “my blood ran cold.”  That’s how it feels every time I realize that I’ve somehow hurt people I love so badly that I succeeded in doing what I most feared: driving them to the point that they no longer care and they want nothing to do with me.  This is not by any stretch of the imagination the first time that I’ve actually felt as though my blood had been replaced with ice water, but the number of times it happens has no effect on how it feels.  It’s still one of the worst feelings I’ve experienced.  Every time.

Since my psychiatrist has me off of work until at least the end of this month, I find myself with a lot of free time.  I was reading some articles on a comedy website I like shortly after I woke up today and one of them had some particularly funny things in it and the first thought I had was, “Oh, I have to send this to…Ah.  Right.  I can’t send this to them.”  It happened a couple of times because apparently my brain just doesn’t want to learn what my new reality is.  Every single time it happened, my blood ran cold.

Before, the thought that I’ve really lost these people would have been all-consuming, the ONLY thing I would be able to think about, and I would be sobbing and holding in screams.  There’s a part of me now that wants to do that.  I expect there will be brief periods it actually happens.  Now, however, I will not, CAN not, allow that to happen and I am able to keep it from happening.  It’s not easy, but at least I seem to have some measure of control over it.

I’m positive that they won’t be reading any of this.  I DO have this blog set up to automatically post to my Facebook timeline, but I haven’t actually logged on to the Facebook site itself and I have no intention of doing so.  For all I know, they’ve “unfriended” and blocked me and have asked their family and mutual close friends to do the same.  And I don’t want to find out.  I don’t want to know.  If any of my friends or family on Facebook are reading this and leaving comments ON Facebook or “reacting” to these posts ON Facebook, please know that I am not going to see those comments or “reactions.”  I’m not at a point where I could log on there and receive confirmation of what I’m now just speculating on.  I know I wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

I’m also not going to have any hope or expectation that we’ll ever be on speaking terms again.  Some might see that as pessimistic.  I see it as realistic.  “Hoping for the best” has only EVER gotten me hurt.  So I’m telling myself that they’re not going to read anything I post here, they won’t be contacting me in any way for any reason, and that I just have to accept that they’re gone.

I can’t help but beat myself up over it because I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I SAID OR DID.  I’d been feeling as though I were a fragile pane of glass that could be shattered at any time, by anything, so when another friend had a party, I welcomed a chance to relax with some drinks and to try not to feel terrible for a little while.  Needless to say, I blew it.  I have no idea how many drinks “some” was and I can’t even remember how I got home, in the door, and to my bed.  I used to do that years ago on at least a weekly basis and I haven’t been social enough to be even a “social drinker” in a very long time.  I rarely drink alcohol anymore – a few times a year at most – but when I do…eeeeesh.  It’s like I go from “that happy, buzzed feeling where everything is funny” to “total crying mess of a person that will have amnesia” in no time at all.  The last clear thing I remember is that there was a whole table full of people playing “Cards Against Humanity.”  After that, everything is like little “flashes” of random stuff that might well be unreliable.  So, yeah, I’m beating the crap out of myself and trying to remember things while dealing with the fact that people I love like family want nothing to do with me.

That doesn’t sound very positive or very healthy, I’m sure.  Have you read, “The Silver Linings Playbook” by Matthew Quick?  (The movie doesn’t really count because it was changed so much and because most of the book is the main character’s inner dialogue.  I liked the movie I guess, it just bears little resemblance to the book.)  The main character is all about finding “silver linings” in everything and the fact is, he’s not able to accept reality.  He’s living in what he calls “his movie” and he’s sure that there will be the happy ending he wants because that’s how movies work.  Of course, the book DOES have a happy ending even if it’s not what he wanted at the beginning but he has to sort out a bunch of stuff in his own head before he finally drops the (what I think is ridiculous Disney-esque bullshit) “happy ending” he originally wanted.  I’ve been that guy.  I learned, after many painful lessons, that looking for “silver linings” and other such garbage is just another form of self-destruction.  It doesn’t stop me at times but I do know that.  If I allow myself to get my hopes up that “not all is lost” then I’ll just end up worse off than I was Before.

I spent an entire year trying to sort stuff out in my head while trying to believe that I could still go along my merry way and all it got me was more stuff to sort out and I lost more than I care to say.  And the stress from that led to me having a breakdown and driving people off that I love.  That’s reality.  It’s going to be painful and I’m probably going to vent on here a lot.  That’s just how I’m going to deal with it.  I’m not really writing TO anyone and sometimes I might sound like I’m trying to convince myself of some things and other times it might sound like I’m actually addressing people.  Oh, well.  I’m trying to figure out how to deal with a breakup, not just from one person but from many.  Writing style is not really on my list of things to give a fuck about currently, to be honest.  Finding my footing, slowly getting back to my feet, assessing the damage, brushing off the dust, and reorienting myself is about all that IS on that list.

And since I’ll be home for a while, I’ll have time to get all the little things I kept putting off done.  Mainly stuff to do with transferring content from old hard drives to new drives, installing programs, getting RID of Windows 10 because fuck that OS so hard, and other trivial day-to-day tasks.  This is the stuff I would always tell myself I would get done over the weekend but then blew off because my weekends were basically self-harm sessions of comparing my life to others’ lives on Facebook, looking at suicide ideation pictures on Pinterest, and excessive sleeping WHILE mentally berating myself for not getting out of the house because the thought of leaving the house would send me into panic attacks.  I wish to hell I could do some work from home but the programs we use at work are far beyond me financially and require networks and all that good stuff.  And I would totally want a REAL single-head embroidery machine because my dinky little Brother machine is just not enough.  Damn, I would love to have a single-head.  When I think about all the cool stuff I could do?!?!  Maybe I should focus on that for a while.  Getting my hands on a single-head embroidery machine.  That’s not really dealing with my problems but it is kind of a nice thought.

 

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