Aegrotat, maybe?

I had my last day of Caleb's Breath study today.  Three needles in my arms and 14 or 15 lancets in my fingers - which kept withholding blood after they were stabbed.

I spent all the six hours I was there waiting trying to watch lectures from my course and finding that every attempt to concentrate on study just brings on tears.
I think I am going to have to miss my exam and apply for special considerations with the hope of getting granted an aegrotat.  Currently it is looking too much like going to the exam will just lead to me sobbing in a room full of children.

I will keep trying to study, but is looking unfortunately like I just can't get my shit together enough to even be in the room for the exam.

Who knew that not killing myself would start to feel so much like a full time job with much unpaid overtime?



And I have to stop communication with Shitlord.  He implied he was having a rough time and I got very concerned and full of the need to help him.  I still value his happiness about my well being.  This is not good for me.  Stupid love for someone who probably doesn't deserve it.
Stupid not thinking I am worthy of people returning the love I give them.

Terrible

I went for a walk to clear my head and make sure I was vaguely matching distance walked for the study.  Mostly this just led to some public sobbing as I stumbled through town just as the worker bees were leaving their offices.

I also was reminded that, for as bad as I am at asking for help that I need, I am also pretty terrible at taking that help even when it is directly offered.

Unhelpful brain

Sleeping under my weighted blanket went okay.
I got to sleep more easily though woken up tired and achy - the achyness might be the blankets fault the exhaustion could just be chronic health fun times.

Builder and plumber came and pulled apart my bathroom.  Determined my bath wasn't the source of the leak, so it was not water that I had washed in, which is nice to know.  But had already ripped out my bath by then so had to replace it with a new light fibreglass thing instead of the solid metal that I had.
I don't understand the wastefulness of the whole process.
That took from 9am until after 3, when they left but have to come back and finish tomorrow - which is super inconvenient for me and means I will have to go in to the lab being unwashed and gross.

So fucking unhelpful all around.

Almost as unhelpful as the Sleepyhead customer service people who are demanding I pay to even have them consider that my warranty complaint isn't just normal body contouring - when the mattress came that way and I have always avoided sleeping on that part of the mattress because of it.

Possibly even almost as unhelpful as my brain.  I am pretty much falling apart this afternoon, being angry at myself for still be alive and getting weepy about generally everything.
I mean, I have been doing pretty shit for a while.
But some days it just seems like trying to get through it is the wrong call.  Not that there is really anything else to do.  Can't go and die because I have that study tomorrow and then my exam, which I have still done basically nothing for, on Saturday.  Also, I have some very good friends I would really rather not upset by dying on them.
Otherwise death is looking much better than living.

11.4kg

My therapy blanket arrived today.  All weighted, filled with glass beads, so it will be heavy without necessarily being very warm.  Will try out sleeping under it tonight.  Though mostly it is just for hiding under when I get panicky.

I am pretty irked at Shitlord for the fact I get panicky now.  It has never been something I have had problems with before.  Now my anxiety leads to attacks.  It is not fun.  Hopefully the blanket helps.
I am feeling pretty broken.
Just the detritus of a human and not really a person at all.

While I haven't really done anything except sulk at home today (still have done absolutely nothing that could count as study for my exam which is now only days away), I realised that I am doing a little better than I have been.  Enough better to realise that I am doing pretty badly still and recently there have been too may occasions when I should have been asking for help and didn't.

I may end up failing first year Greek Myth, a paper I probably could have got an A of some description for under the lecturer who taught it when I was in undergrad the first time, just from my knowledge of the characters.   But this close reading approach they have now is not compatible with my senile old brain, even before I lost weeks of attention to some personal life stuff.

I need to do so much study if I am going to pull things together enough to get a tolerable mark, but even thinking about it is making me cry.

I am doing much better than I was, but am still not doing well.

Five hours of very helpful ranting

Last night Shitlord replied to something I had said, because in my stupidity I keep reopening myself and letting him communicate, after work and it led to an awkward exchange to finish off the day.
I have too many emotions about him.  Logically I know he is not a person who it is good for me to be around but I really just want to hold him.
I was also reminded to be cranky at him by the iphone message app being weird when you open it in landscape and popping up a brief preview of very old messages - they were messages from when he was fucking me around about when he'd give my keys back.  A reminder that he kept playing dumb power games at me even after things had gone far too awful for that to be forgivable.
At some point I need to work out how to make my brain chemistry catch up with my logic and stop wanting him.
I got angry, he told me to go to sleep.  It was basically a "calm down" message.  Had I not already been in bed I might have been snarky back, instead I just tried to sleep it off.

Today I had a slow start, watching some Orange is the New Black, as I still haven't finished watching the final season.
Then headed in to town at lunch time and met up with Catriona, who then had to listen to me rant at her for five hours.  We had not caught up in a long time - I think last time I was trying to network with her to find job openings for Shitlord to apply for.  So I explained a lot of the relationship and a lot of how generally messed up it was even before the stupid ending and post-ending awkwardness.
I ranted so much.  And I cried a little at her, while sitting in a cheap Japanese fusion restaurant.
And I watched her do a little shopping, and used her company to justify buying some very unhealthy snacks before I came home.

To play Stellaris, watch more TV and generally be a sulky little bitch.

Ranting for hours helped my day, but I am still doing a terrible job of being a human.

And, I just unfriended Shitlord on Facebook.
I thought it would feel empowering somehow, but it is just making me feel sad and hurt.

One of my friends has been encouraging me to get myself into Wakari Hospital for a stay in the psych ward.
I am starting to suspect he may have had a reason, and not be entirely wrong.

Jojo Rabbit

I realised last night as I was failing to sleep that I have not done any preparation for my exam yet and part of that was an underlying assumption that maybe I wasn't going to be alive by exam time anyway.  Maybe there was a valid reason why my counsellor thought I was seeming a bit too much of a self-harm risk.

I probably would have forgot that thought forever once I slept, except the memory of it popped up today when I mentioned that I probably don't want to celebrate my 40th any more.
Planning a 40th is far more commitment to staying alive than I am entirely comfortable with just now.

I am not doing okay.
Have to keep focusing on how my death would just be another victory for Shitlord, and he has won enough already.
This is slightly at odds with the bad moments in the last year when he was who had to stay alive for - his very firm opinion that I wasn't allowed to die on him was one of the few things he had said that my friends actually liked him for.


This morning Firmin took me to Jojo Rabbit to distract me from myself.  And for a walk afterwards.
It was good.
I have very good friends.  I have to remind myself that when things are dark.
And when things seem like Shitlord being in my life would make it better.  I have great friends, I shouldn't be trying so hard to get a friend who is yet to show any evidence of being great just because I am all stupid about him.  Love is dumb.

The shadow of an anniversary

Yesterday sucked for me.
My brain was just fucking me over and lead to my texting Shitlord a long rant, which he responded to.
There were apologies and the claim that he had kind of loved me.  Basically every vaguely nice, non-committal and deeply unhelpful thing he could say was said.

I am being unfair in blaming him, was my own insane ranting about how disappointed in him and sad I was that kept the conversation going.
For all that he said things that were probably well meaning but were still deeply hurtful, it was really just a monologue from me.  I vented so much bottled up sadness.
I realise this was just surrendering all of my imaginary power back to him, but really there has yet to be a single point where he didn't have all the power anyway.

It appears he had the evening off.
But he had the good sense to not want to talk in any form other than text.  But even if we had still been together history suggests he would have spent the night not with me and only texted.  He was generally pretty shit to me.  And I let him away with it for so many years.

For some reason I sometimes hope he will be the solution to all the pain I am in, but really I need to accept that he is a cause and has nothing more to offer.
This whole dumb being in love with someone who is awful for me thing...
And yesterday I just wanted to be able to sobbed in out in his arms - again, wanting things now that I never would have even got out of him when he was promising me that he wanted to grow old with me.
I have so many more bad memories than good from the relationship, and yet I still find myself wishing I was back in it on a regular basis.
My brain is very unhelpful.

So much crying yesterday and today.   So much wishing he was here to comfort me, or that he ever had been.
Realising how much I still carry resentment for when he cancelled on me to spend time with a depressed friend when he knew I was pretty fucking depressed and was never willing to help.
I am now pretty certain the depressed friend was actually one of his other partners being in town, which means the plans to hang with me in the first place were one of those lies that meant nothing to him to fucked me over with hours of waiting to just get cancelled on.
I have to keep reminding myself that he was bad to me, as otherwise I will keep kind of wanting him back.

This morning I ate a lot of chocolate as breakfast.
By 10am I must have had almost half a kilo of confectionery in me, because I was trying to beat my sadness with sugar.
It is not a plan that works.

Today I was feeling pretty awful.

So I curled up and ate all the food in my house and watched season 2 of Killing Eve on the TVNZ on demand service.
Only left the house to go to the gypsy fair thing that in in town, with Carla and Ian and their spawn.  It was a nice outing.  I got a bit sunburnt, and I walked around somewhere with cash in my pocket watching people buy lots of food and had my one break from eating for the day....
I make sense.

Very bad day

Today, well technically yesterday because midnight happened already, was very shit. I will write about it but not now.
For now I am just writing to say that a bad day lead to eating sugar to an extend a diabetic really really shouldn’t.  Even a healthy person shouldn’t do that.
Now being kept awake by sugar induced extra nastiness to my everlasting migraine.
The pain reminds me that I am alive.  This is not necessarily a good thing.

One day until the, now meaningless, 5 year mark

Yesterday I had counselling.  I ended up exchanging texts with Shitlord while I was sitting in the waiting room.  It may have been that, or it may have just been the entirety of the last two weeks, but the session went kind of dark kind of fast.
I was made to fill out a "Strong Emotions Survival Plan", i.e. a suicide avoidance checklist except they they avoid the word suicide when writing things down.
And then my counsellor took a copy of it for Student Health's records.  He said it was in case I came into Student Health as an emergency psych care patient (something I didn't think they did), but it felt like they were getting something to cover themselves in case my death got referred to the coroner or something.
Otherwise advice from the counsellor was that I definitely had to stop talking to the other other guy, and that I should really be working on cutting Shitlord out of my life entirely, at least for a while.
That last part is proving so hard.
My brain still defaults to suggesting him as the person I most want to talk to about pretty much anything that comes up that I want to share with someone.
It is very unhelpful.
So much unhelpful love in my stupid heart.

Yesterday evening I went to Carla and Ian's and ranted at them a bit for the evening.  And enjoying the company of their cats.

Today was been hard.  Had a pleasant distraction in the form of Lunch with Oli and then a walk with Firmin while he had his lunch.  I have good friends.
I wore the shirt Shitlord gave me a few months back for the first time since the breakup today (I can't say 'bought me' because a while after he gave it to me he conceded it had been bought for someone else - I don't know if that means it was actually for one of his other partners).  Because it is a shirt that fits well and was clean.  And it didn't pick to end up mine through odd circumstances.  I kind of wish I hadn't though - its history bugged me every time I noticed I was wearing it.
Otherwise have been wallowing at home with less successful distractions.  Such as playing some Path of Exile for the first time in a very long time, probably over a year.  The update took a long time.

Tomorrow would have been our five year anniversary, if we were still together.   And if we had ever been a real relationship.
It has been plaguing my thoughts all week, and today was pretty intense and off-putting.
My brain is the dumb, and my emotions are all unhelpful.

I had been planning so many nice things for tomorrow, back when that made sense.

I also had the shit fight I was going to start a few days later somewhat planned.  I wanted it to be a nice day before I stirred all the things that were giant problems in our relationship to see what could be fixed.
I had just had no idea how much I was misled as to the level of our problems.

Day two of breath study

I did not sleep well last night.  Had woken about 2am and thought I needed to pee (I didn't), looked at my phone and saw that a bit over an hour earlier Shitlord had texted.  At that hour of the morning his awkward wording left it seeming a very backhanded text and so I got worked up and had a lot of trouble getting back to sleep.  (By light of day, and after a little clarification, it was his attempt to say he does actually want us to be friends again some day.)

I went in to uni, fasted and cranky.  I went the direct way as I decided I am no longer willing to walk over the hill through town just to avoid passing near Shitlord's house.  It would be growth.  Except I felt the need to ask him if it was okay that I stopped going out of my way to avoided places near him.  Because asking your ex for permission to use the main route to uni is totally sensible.  (That was the conversation that led to the weirdness overnight.)

I got to the study and this time I got to eat a specifically weighed amount of wholemeal bread (to have 50g of available carbs).  I watched a bunch more Avatar, with the headphones that Julie gave me on Sunday (I have good friends).
Actual food led to getting less hypoglycaemic - less of a high first too.  For the final day with its mostly whole grains I can probably expect to not get hypo at all.   Super low GI and all.

The relatively normal blood glucose means I have far less excuse for the text conversation I had with Shitlord - it was mostly just trying to get the actual meaning out of the message he had sent overnight.  He has abused his apparently poor English enough times that I am unwilling to give him benefit of the doubt when it mostly just looks like he got words confused.  I have fallen for that when used maliciously.

And talking about it has made me super angry about it again.  Too many emotions still attached to his everything.  The awfulness, and how thinking about it reminds me how much I really liked the few bits that weren't awful.

On the way home from the study I bumped into one of his work friends, one of the regular Tuesday group hang, who didn't know we had parted ways.  We had a pretty nice conversation in which it was pointed out that I had been dating someone who was clearly shady and up to something.  The result of which is I think I may be successfully stealing one of Shitlord's crew.



Only three needles in the veins today, but the fingertips on my left hand are all complaining about all the holes poked in them.

I took my own machine and compared results.  They were unreliably different.  Either my machine is a bit terrible, or my strips have expired.

Monday

I was food matching today.  I did an average job of it.
As I did of the exercise matching.

The day I had to match to was too non-typical.

Otherwise, lunch with Greer was the only point of note.  It was very nice.

On the way home I broke down and cried as I was on on the busier foot traffic areas of the main street.  So winning at being a human.

Keep almost texting Shitlord, hypoglycaemia may be a problem if it happens again tomorrow.

Days lost to sulk

Recent days, I have not been going well.
Got pretty depressed and spiralled.
Not that much else to say except that it led me to replying to more messages from Shitlord's other other guy.  I thought helping him through him pain would help.
I really didn't.

I am still too hurting, and too full of unhelpful in-love feelings, to be helping someone else deal with the same person's lies.

Part of the problem is how much I still go to tell anecdotes of my day to him first.(And, kind of, him only, I got far to emotionally dependent on him over the years.)
He is still so much entwined with how I think about everything.

Hypoglycaemic for hours

I had the first day of the study I signed up for today.  It meant going in earlier than I really like to, playing Pokemon Go as I went (reinstalled as a birthday gift to a friend, for reasons).
I came a little too close to walking in from of Simon's car when playing Pokemon while crossing the street beside his work (actually, can't have been as bad as it seemed to me as he didn't even notice me as anything more than regular human driving-obstacle).
At the set of lights after that I bumped into one of the few of Shitlord's friends who I had socialised with enough to talk to but not to feel I am still allowed to talk to.  So that was a bit awkward.

I got to the Mellor Labs - which is what the old Chem building is now called - slightly late and was still Pokemon Go-ing and that led to me falling on the stairs inside the building the breaking my good headphones (the hand-me-down ones Simon gave me a few years back).  So I was heading in to over six hours of mostly waiting in a lab without my planned entertainment.  And some bruised pride.

Then they started with blood tests, which took two tried and ended up coming from the vein on the back of my hand - which is painful one.  Then introduced me to the machine I had to breath in every half hour for the day - which was pretty straight forward, I even understood most of what was going on.  Puffing into a fancy mass spec.  And the blood glucose readings started.  So many of them.

And I had to drink the glucose drink.  It means I got the worst one out of the way first.  It was so unpleasant.

I had failed to find a volunteer to be my control, because too many of my friends are grown ups.  When I first signed up for the stupid I was considering asking Shitlord and sorting it for on days he had off.  So we could hang out and get paid for it.  But things went sideways between us before I could seriously pass on the suggestion.  And, realistically, even if he had agreed he wouldn't have turned up...

Less than an hour into to my surfing Facebook and generally being grumbly the Johnny's boy running the study went up to his office and came back with some loner headphones.  From which point onward I filled the time between puffing into a machine and being bled by watching the Ba Sing Se episodes of Avatar off Netflix.  Wasn't sure I could watch Big Mouth in mixed company.

For lunch I had to have a second glucose drink.

In spite of the large amount of disgusting glucose, the fact I had had my metformin with a dubious meal substitute rather than food meant that by mid afternoon I had gone slight hypoglycaemic.  3.6mmol/L.  I didn't think I could get that low, nothing from the student I did with the metre in my arm seemed to have been below 4.4.  I say that and went and checked and saw it got to 3.8mmol/L twice and on one of those then got to 3.7mmol/L.  It seems I spent almost 2% on the time I was on that study last year being slightly hypo.  So maybe it wasn't just the meds without food.
Maybe it was the fact I am mixing meds that aren't supposed to be but which all doctors told me I was stupid for caring about, because it is never actually an issue.  But metformin isn't supposed to cause hypos.

At the end of the session the Johnny's boy running it took me to the staff cafe for some sushi he'd bought on campus - as he had forgotten to get in the catering order for the post study meals.  And we had a long chat about things nothing to do with the study.  Was nice to have a surprisingly deep conversation that involved basically nothing personal.  I guess that is how people make new friends (not that that is what was happening, friendly acquaintances maybe).  I am very out of habit at talking to new people.


Woot, blog entry that might be more about my shitty health than my shitty love life......

The hypos lead to some texting that they shouldn't have.  Telling Shitlord that I am disappointed in how bad a person he is....

Like the previous, but with more flesh on it.

Today was weird.
Didn't sleep well because I was worried about the counselling session I had booked in for today.

I got up earlyish, had breakfast and started keeping the food diary I need for something tomorrow.  Then watched some TV until Midget finished with something she was doing and we went off hang out for a bit.  We had a drive, I had a rant about the discoveries of the weekend, and it was generally very nice.  Followed by lunch out at a cafe I had not been to (and hadn't been to the venue through probably multiple cafes in the space).  It was pretty good, though I realise it is going to make food matching for the next time I have to do the food diary thing much less of a thing that I will succeed at.

Then the counselling session.  I went in with a worry she would want to talk about things I didn't want to, but she was willing to skip over the thing I thought I had been referred for.  She is a specialist in counselling victims of relationship abuse and domestic violence, which was not exactly what I had assumed from what I had heard the day before but meant she was much more help than I expected.

I tried to explain how Shitlord has been a bit weird and evasive and kind of neglectful of me, and how I had projected extra weirdness on that to the point I was pretty much abusing myself.
She asked some pertinent questions, the sort that in answering them I surprised myself a lot.
I mean, I have spent more than a month complaining about how much he manipulated me - but she brought up things I had utterly missed but which she had correctly predicted from what she had heard.  Seems much of it was pretty textbook manipulation.
She was clear that I had not deserved the treatment he had given me, she declared him a 'dick' and that he was unworthy of the concern I still hold for him.
She was also careful to explain that most of it is very hard to see from the inside so I shouldn't be blaming myself (thought I still will, obviously) and that it didn't deserve it (though I will persist in suspecting that I did).

But all up she did a very good job of making me briefly feel like I didn't bring it all on myself through stupidity, gullibility and credulousness.

I wandered home, weirdly shaken up and anxious that I would bump into Shitlord in town, but I did not.  Fortunately.

His existence still has so much power over me.

And this evening I texted him to tell him he did not appear to have given me any STIs, but that he should really still go get himself tested.

He appears to be avoiding replying to me.  Not sure if it is revenge for my ignoring him for the better part of two weeks, or if there is an actual reason.
Probably better not knowing.

I think I need to cut him off entirely.  My sanity may need me to not have the ability to contact him when the mood unhelpfully strikes.


Made a dinner that was semi-healthy (mostly veges, but also meat and noodles) but not something I will have the ingredients to repeat.  I am going to be very bad at matching food on the days before all the days I do this study.
Am now fasting, so of course now I am super hungry.
Why did I sign up for science?

Cutting and pasting a text I sent to a friend.

Talked through everything with the domestic violence and relationship abuse counsellor.
She did the best job of anyone yet at convincing me that the abusive behaviour wasn’t my fault or in my head.

Also test results already back and all clear.

The clinic

After spending yesterday pretty much just crying in my PJs, and having delivereasy because I couldn't bring myself to be in my kitchen.  Certain dark thought make kitchens bad places to be.
Spending all my emotional reserves trying to be kindly to Shitlord's other other guy was not a great move for me.
Sure I learned things in the process, but they are all things I was happier not knowing.

Seventeen hours after I sent the regrettable text to Shitlord he finally read it.  He has not replied, which pretty much confirms my suspicions.

After a very broken nights sleep I got thoroughly cleaned up as I was off to a sexual health clinic check-up - all the cheating I have learned about means I have to check that Shitlord didn't give me anything, even though I had mostly avoided ever doing anything particularly risky with him.
In the almost six years since I had last been checked the process has become a lot more hands off, the doctor involved doesn't even see any of the personal bit any more.
Which makes it much less embarrassing, though also means that other things involving those parts of the body will not get picked up on as when else did medical professionals ever look around down there.

I did, however, breakdown a bit in the question segment at the start.  So am getting some more counselling from another source.  I think just one session and covering things I would rather not talk about - but may do me some good.

The med student, who seemed very new to the sexual health assignment, was extremely uncomfortable.

Hopefully results, due before the end of the week, will all be fine.  Or, at least, nothing I am stuck with permanently.
Shitlord did enough harm to me without any of that.

All up, not doing great.

Caving to the impulse to stupidity

After having overextended my emotional capacity trying to be compassionate to a stranger, I cracked.
I broke my week and a half of no contact to ask a question that I am pretty certain Shitlord will never answer.  If, realistically, he will ever be able to be honest enough with me to deserve any of my friendship.
I expect it to be ignored because, I think we both know that, the answer is 'no'.

Self destructive niceness

I kept talking to Shitlord's other other guy because he is pretty much where I was four weeks ago and I feel for him.
But it is revealing more and more reasons why I should never trust Shitlord ever again.  More of more lies and betrayals keep being revealed.
He is bad people.

And I am still painfully in love with him.

Also, it seems I did get the shittest treatment.  I am not sure if it was because I was the local idiot (though not the only local entanglement as has been revealed).  Or it was because I was the least desperate for his love, so he had to destroy me enough to be entire dependent on him.

It does seem he preys on those who will need him entirely - and thus give up on everything that conflicts with his evasive bullshit.

 All of this is just hurting myself further.  So much hurting.

Sleepless again

My brain decided sleeping was not allowed and spent the night coming up with ridiculous elaborate plans to kill myself while framing Shitlord for murder.
Because prison seemed too much like the only thing I could do to him that would hurt him at all.
But he would still win too much from that.

The fact I can't sleep is still him winning.

Also, now that this post exits if he ever murders me he will be able to use this to get away with it.  I am pretty certain he has too many other men on the go to bother murdering me.  He seems too busy to bother with anything except the occasional creepy attempt to manipulate and control - I assume because he thinks I will be easily won back into his direct power.

Or maybe he is just so broken it is the only way he knows how to interact - and that possibly makes him more dangerous to my wellbeing.

Progress unmade

I thought I was making progress today.
Met a new person socially, with the implication there might be physical distraction but definitely not a relationship going forth.  Which was flattering and seemed like a healthy thing to be considering in my current position.

Otherwise just spent the day hiding from the terrible weather.

Then just as my delivereasy bibimbap was arriving I got a message from someone claiming to be Shitlord's partner of six years and demanding answers.  He had enough information to make it pretty clear he was at least partially telling the truth.
So yeah, Shitlord had multiple other people running at the same time, and one seems to have been from before me.
The attempts to convince myself he is a vaguely decent guy who just got caught in a mistake he didn't know how to fix are now over.  He is not a decent guy.  It was not a mistake.  It was a pattern of him being an arsehole who just uses people.

And it hurts more than it has any reason to.
I had not realised how much hope I was pegging on him somehow being someone I could forgive and be friends with again.


And I sent a message to his flatmates explaining that I would not ever be likely to rejoin the social group - they were very nice about it.


Now off to cry some more.
Because it really fucking hurts.

Tonight I am just really sad.
I don't really know why, I am just drowning in sadness.
It doesn't seem to be about anything specific except for the usual.

Leaving a trail of white

My beard is falling out insanely today.
White hairs everywhere.

No idea what is causing it.

Though does somewhat support the time Shitlord got cranky at me about the amount of my beard that turned up around his flat.

Sleep is not my friend

Not sure which was the possible triggers it was, but last night I woke only about 90 minutes after going to bed properly and then lay awake for a very long time, too caught up in emotional bullshit for my quarterarse understanding of mindfullness to be able to help.
I finally got to sleep at some point after the sky was starting to get light - which is not a great sign at this time of year.
And then I slept through my alarm for almost 2 hours.

Great start to my last day of classes for the year.

Also, it turned out yesterday that I can now listen to Rachel Bloom's "I have friends" without crying.  The utter certainty that none of my friends like me was something that came from Shitlord's treatment on me (whether he meant for that outcome or not).  Tiny steps in the progress of working through damage he did to me.

Who is redeemable?

Discussing Shitlord with a good friend who has had some experience dating a psychopath and he made the observation that I am entirely cut-and-pasting without crediting him:

Well, the two likely scenarios I am entertaining are; 1) Full blown manipulative sociopath 2) Stacked Pavlovian responses - he knows that an action often gets him the desired result, but not why

He leaned slight toward the second.   I lean rather strongly to the second.  But I am too full of affection for Shitlord to be a fair judge.

I really want there to be a redeemable person behind all the very shitty behaviour inflicted on me.

Stupid universe.

Seeing the class ranking I realised my A- for my essay wasn't actually that good.  Slightly over a quarter of the class got A+s.

I headed to class, and on the intersection crossing the the university library I realised I was crossing in front of Shitlord's car.  After how much all little pale blue cars are causing a hit of panic, I had realised it looked a lot like his car but I think that a lot and was not as prepared for it to actually be him as I needed to be.
He did that pointing at his eyes and then swinging the fingers to me thing to show he was watching me.  I assume he meant it to be friendly, but it just felt like he was claiming some sort of right to see where I am.
He has done too many dick things, it taints everything else.
He controlled me for so long through actions I took as innocent at the time.

And seeing him at all hurts.  I have all this useless love that just aches for him, and seeing him makes it so much worse.

Class was on the exam, so was probably worth being at but I really just wanted to be at home in bed.

On my way home I stepped on a wobbly brick in the footpath and it shot fetid muck up my leg all the way to my crotch.  I looked like I had had explosive diarrhoea though the front of my pants - and the mud the got on my hand itched a lot, even for quite a while after it was thoroughly washed away.  So it was home to extra washing of things and preparing stuff to not stain between now and when I have enough laundry for it to be worth running the machine.

And then once I was home and cleaned I cried for a while.
I would like to say it was all about the mud, but I wouldn't even fool myself with that.

The moving on is a slow process and, when I start to think I am making progress, I get reminded how far I have to go.

Distracted yesterdayness

I was too busy being excited about Shitlord's best friend saying that Shitlord and the other guy are sure to make each other miserable to remember the thing I actually maybe should have mentioned from earlier in the day.

The counsellor wanted to do the paperwork so that I would get reduced dispensing.  Apparently I am not someone who should be trusted with three months worth of meds at a go.
I explained I have had a lot of meds for a long time, and have been more depressed than I am not - even pretty damn recently.
So instead I had to explain reasons I'd not do anything dumb.
Not wanting to hurt my friends was acceptable.
But the reason the counsellor actually felt was useful was my "because me ex can't win that much" pettiness reason.

Spite seems to be more trusted - or something......


I just realised I have class today.  I don't want to have to wash and put on clothes, but shall have to.


Also, the terrible essay from two weeks ago.  The one I didn't trust was an essay, or even English, got an A-.
Was only an A- due to obvious lack of proofreading.  Seems in my scrambledness and crying I had still written was was really an A essay.

Mondays happen (want to tie in metformin and make it a poop joke, but how...)

Had counselling this morning.
It was weird and awkward because it was a lot of crying in front of a middle aged Brit (I think he is Welsh, but not certain as I suck at placing accents).
We went through a thing on controlling and abusive relationships, after I suggested the possibility that I was broken and projecting assumptions and had maybe somehow accidentally abused myself for five years....  We went through the emotional abuse and isolation categories, after which I called an end to it.  The emotional abuse category there was at least a marginal tick for every box.  Which was not good, but did mean it was not just me torturing myself.  He was definitely doing bad things to me.
Evidence that I am not at fault is not entirely helpful as there is still the chunk of my brain that just wants to defend him.  I need to reprogram those thoughts away, but that may take time.

I was left scrambled enough that I remember nothing of the lecture I went to afterwards.

Then rushing home, because I had had a phone call from a plumber asking me to be home by 1400, and I bumped into Shitlord's flatmates.  The one who is also his best friend is still very angry and performatively on my side.  They don't approve of the new guy at all, which I guess is also nice for me.  Maybe.
It is all weird.

The plumber turned out to be a consultant with a tablet and no tools who just examined my bathroom and then declared I would be called one day when a plumber and builder could both come at once and rip out and replace my bathtub.  And it would hopefully be a one day but might end up being a two day job.

Otherwise I am doing nothing with my life but watching bad TV (The Circle is a weirdly addictive reality show) and cyber-flirting with a slightly too young foreigner who I am extremely unlikely to ever actually meet (because it is much less terrifying than the very small amount of flirting I have done with someone more appropriate in Christchurch - the possibility I might meet them takes all the escapism out of it and also makes it very clear I am not yet ready to meet anyone in a flirty context).


Super weird realisation.
The breakup has me pretty sad and confused - but I am pretty certain I am the least depressed I have been in years.
It is weird when you are reminded how much depression and sadness are two different scales.
Also, the way Shitlord treated me had been making me so depressed for so long.

Brain = monster

I am missing Shitlord tonight.
So much.
The absence of him really hurts - which is ridiculous as he was basically never around for most of the relationship anyway.

So frustrating after weeks of realising more and more how much of his behaviour was tailored to control me.
I worry this missing him was something he manipulated into me - but really he just made me dependent on him without any real thought to how that would affect me once things were over.  I am pretty sure he never spared a thought for how any of his actions would affect me outside of what that would do to him.

It is also upsetting that the assumption that he never thought about the affects he would have is the best case scenario.
The assumption that he was malicious fits the data slightly better but it not a world-view I am yet willing to concede to.

De-beard-ening

After spending the entirely on Friday in my PJs and filth, on Saturday I showered while it was still morning before going to lunch with Carla, Ian and their spawn.  And then we all went to the Brick show at the Edgar Centre for some perving at Lego.  And maybe some accidental flirting with Lego dad's whose teenage sons were deeply embarrassed.

Then after dinner and bad TV at home I went to Carla's birthday party - where I mostly just ranted about Shitlord.  I have still resisted the urge to engage with his last message from Wednesday.  Resisting it hurts, but not as much as every reply I considered would have.

Not so much else to say for myself.  I should try doing the washing and dressing and leaving the house thing again today, but I might not.



And my beard is seriously falling out.
Must be pulling on it too much with all the anxiety of recent weeks.
It is more sparse and patchy than usual.

Too much eating now....

I seem to have fully slumped into my more regular depression.  The sort where I pretty much live on chocolate biscuits and do nothing.
Nothing but sulk and eat sugary badness.

The depression is winning today.

Shit, but not actual poop - at least none that would feature in the story

I have still not responded to the fake seeming apology text Shitlord sent last night.
There is just nothing I can say that isn't just opening myself to be hurt by him even more.

I went to bed so late last night and didn't sleep well even then.  The apology texts had let me pretty messed up.  Maybe that was the plan.  I say that, because people are telling me a lot that I am too generous in my interpretation of his behaviour.
I still want to find a way that everything he has done was just a decent guy fucking up a bunch.  The problem is that I can't make it fit.
No matter how hard I try I can't find an explanation where he was not maliciously using me.  Though I also can't find a reason why he would have bothered doing that.  I assume everyone reading this has seen what he looks like - I am confident he easily could have found willing randoms to fill whatever it was he was getting from me.
Maybe he will explain some day, if I cave and let him back into my life enough, but I suspect he never will.


Several of my friends are losing patience with me.  Especially one of my closest friends who is slipping into being evidence in support of all my blaming myself for the five years of everything.


I mostly just wallowed today, though did briefly go out with Midget and my god-daughter for a little mini golf (that got rained out on hole 5).
Mostly have otherwise failed to do anything much.  My mind is foggy and confused about everything.  Some will be from the lack of sleep, but most is just the depression being in the form where it makes me dumb.
So dumb.
Even simple thoughts are being hard to form.

Accidentally awake

Being cooked dinner and having an evening chilling with conversation and cats has led to be up far later than I should be. 

After looking after me so well Carla drove me home. Then sat in her car while I ranted for over three hours. 

Shitlord started sending apologies through the evening and I didn’t handle it as well as I might have liked to. 

Four weeks

Four weeks ago we had just taken our first decent photo together, after dating almost 5 years.
Four weeks ago he was still working to convince me he was going to try harder and we would work out.
Four weeks ago he was still actively encouraging me to plan my life around him.
Four weeks ago he told the newspaper he was staying in Dunedin for me - or at least he promised me that he meant me, the quote in the paper had no name to it.

Him in the knowledge that he was back with someone he liked far more.

Yesterday was hard.
Today has been pretty hard.

How did I let myself be led by so many lies, so much manipulation, for so many years?

Missing

Today I have mostly spent crying.  I had had some kind of good days, but that ran out.  Today I wasn't even up for washing or dressing until I managed to make myself semi-decent so I could have a pizza delivered for dinner.

And the worst part is how much I have been missing Shitlord today.  All the affection I have for him has just been attacking me.
I know it will take time to get that out of my system, but it is just so unhelpful.  He has proven to been acting pretty monstrously toward me for years, and I still keep worrying about his life and how he will find happiness if he treats other people like that.

An old friend has been suggesting I keep a list of the worst things he did and carry it with me to read over every time I find myself missing him too much.

Memorial services, funerals with a much smaller casket

Going to sleep Sunday night I started crying for the first time that whole day. For the first time in weeks I managed almost a whole day without crying.  I mean most of the crying was breakup related, but I had been crying a lot in the weeks before the breakup too - because I knew I was being lied to I just had no idea how much.

Yesterday was a day.
I spent the morning very slowly assembling myself for the service, and finishing watching Netflix's The Politician.  Which was fun if a bit of a waste of effort.
Then walked to the memorial service, in the rain and wearing my Elvira jumper.  Actually used my umbrella for maybe only the second or third time all year - as it was very needed.
The service was nice.  Very long but nice.  So long.....  And I realised I was really only there for my cousin Breffni.  I liked her dad but had never been super close, and it turns out I have had basically nothing to do with any of her siblings.
When Breffni cried in a reading, I had a bit of a cry.  Was actually sort of nice after all the crying I have been doing to have a cry that wasn't about Shitlord.
And, one of Brian's step-grandsons was distractingly hot - in that so hot he is certainly an arsehole way.

My immediate family went to the wake at Salt for only a very short time before we realised that those relatives we wanted to see hadn't come so we visited my grandmother instead - she had not felt up to going to her brother's funeral.  Old people have things even harder than I do....

I got home and got into a massive sulk.  Not sure if it was the first proper finding someone hot thing.  Or if it was just from the day of emotional wear and tear.  But I got home and just started painfully missing Shitlord.
It was nit a fun evening as my brain just shat on me over and over about how I was unlovable.  Attempting to love me just forces people to become abusive lying dicks who who have to orchestrate expensive long distance romances with garden gnomes in foreign countries just to escape me.  But also to lie to me about it for four years, so that they can punish and destroy me.  Because I deserve it....

I think that was about how my brain had decided it works.

I lay awake well into the night being angry at myself for all the crap that I let Shitlord away with.
All the hurt.
While I am very grateful at how friends have come together and look after me since the breakup, but it feels disingenuous on my part to be asking for any of it.  I have been just as much a high suicide risk for years.  Knowing how much I wanted to kill myself was why I went on psych meds a bit over two years ago.  Psych meds that made me crazy sick and almost certainly are what caused my diabetes to become a thing.
And all this depression and self-hatred came from knowing that even the one person who loved me, and regularly told me he wanted to spend his life with me, didn't have any particular like for actually spending time in my company.
And he knew all this.  I told him basically everything, and believed his replies - far more than I should have.  He either knew his lies were causing me real actual harm and didn't care, or he was wilfully ignoring it.

Why do I keep looking for ways to justify keeping him sort of in my life?