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?
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