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.
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