Closing of the worst year I have had

After Cats, I went for dinner at Oli and Greer's in the insane weather of that evening.

The following day I pottered about home and then the south end of town with an out of town friend and ended up having dinner with Alana's family at her mother's house.

Apart from friends feeding me, I have mostly just sat around my house feeling a bit miserable.  Still even more tired and run down than my usual.

Yesterday, I went to the supermarket for the first time in over a week and forgot the things I actually needed.  I am really not doing or achieving anything.

{edit}
Trying to motivate myself out of the house to be social for a New Year's, after several in a row at home, when I noticed Shitlord had turned up on dating apps - meaning he is either single or back to being a cheating arse again.  I texted like an idiot and he confirmed he efforts to be friends were the result of his relationship ending.
I suspected it, but having it confirmed wasn't great.
Why do I keep expecting better from him when he only ever lives up to my worst suspicions?

I have slid into a internet news cycle celebrities DMs

So Christmas happened.

Christmas eve I was too worn out from the day before.
I spent the earlier part of the day being a lazy fuck.  In the evening I got myself washed and dressed and went to a Christmas Eve dinner at the house of friends.  It was mostly nice but reminded me why I have made no effort to keep in touch with someone I may technically be friends with but who I find interaction with very, very hard.
Also, with the being sick and antisocial for so long it was the first time a few of my friend have properly had the chance to be mean about Shitlord to me...

Christmas day involved over ten hours of family.
A lunch and a dinner.
So much family.

Boxing Day, I could barely stand.
In the evening when i didn't have the energy to heat a can of soup I got sad about how many of the regular delivery things weren't running.  Ended up getting Dominos pizza, delivered by a surprisingly chatty Mason.  I assumed from how late he was running and that they seemed to be the only delivery food running that he should have been rushing but was still much more personable than DeliverEasy ever is - will have to keep that in mind should I be a shut in hermit craving human conversation again.
Then Alana and Mike turned up with some instant food to have me prepared for the future.  And then they ignored my pleas for them to stop and did a bunch of the housework that I was behind on.
My kitchen looks much more like it is safe to eat food from now.

After they left I read a news story passed on a twitter post and to much just following its links lead to the insta account of the person involved, to whom I sent a message - because trying to cheer up strangers is normal.  There has been a small amount of chatting since.
It is my first sliding into a strangers DMs.
I am now an instagram creeper.

Today Alana made me and Mike go to Cats with her.
It is not a good film.

Sleepiness is weakness of character.

As I had an alarm set for 0700, I went to bed at 2315.

Then came so much lying awake fuming about Shitlord and mentally adding him to the now two people list of people I would like to timetravel to avoid meeting and would do so even if the only way the process worked was to prevent their ever being born.  The other on the list being my problem with Anglicans.
Bunching Shitlord together with that monsters is maybe unfair to Shitlord, but both are manipulative creeps who use people with little regard to the effect that has and play the victim afterwards (suggesting no actual remorse).

I flipped my phone over to see that it was past midnight so I could get angry at myself for failing to sleep.  It was past 0200, which tracked as I had done a lot of fuming.
I got to sleep not too much after that as I needed to pee and in getting up to discovered I had soaked the pillow in nightsweats from the gross face - which I am assuming required I had been asleep for it to happen.

Very tired.  And have multiple appointments.
Stupid failing physical and mental health all needing follow ups.

The weird last dream of the night probably didn't help.  Was like captain planet but clearly cBBC, being a mix of different British girls with elemental powers coming from sort -of-heart shaped talismans.  The Scottish girl had powers of creating chocolate....

And then I get up, shower, write the above and then discover I have run out of porridge.  My breakfast plans....
And now I am making myself late.

In other news I briefly thought I was have a brain aneurysm earlier tonight when I have a sudden, intensive and extremely localised increase in my migraine.
It was very unpleasant.  But also something that I used to get a lot, my meds mean I mostly forget that it gets that bad - except on the, now far rarer, occasions when it does.

Bad people are bad, as it happens.

The one mutual friend I have with Shitlord's other guy was all "at least he finally came to his sense".

Shitlord's sudden forceful overtures of friendship are just because he got dumped.  After months of ignoring me he wants to be friends because he has lost everyone who likes him and needs someone to feed his narcissism.

How did I forgot how much he uses people enough to think it was worth investigating the possibility of friendship.

The worst thing for me is me

Have been spiralling a little, which is all my own stupid fault for thinking I could human around Shitlord - especially when I was already spiralling a bit about having turned forty.
When I first got sick I was very certain that I would not just be a lingering waste of resources and now more than twelve years later I still haven't politely killed myself - which I understand was an unhealthy thing to be spiralling about but it was happening and, frustratingly, almost makes the return to Shitlord spiralling an improvement.....
He who destroyed what mental health I had through years of gaslighting, and paid so little attention that I am pretty sure he has zero concept of how damaging he is to people.  Though took blame for the pneumonia pretty quickly, before I even actually got to the blaming him part of the explanation.

I am pretty much just fucked up.

On Thursday I had a pleasant lunch outing with Midget and my goddaughter, which I had intended to Christmas shop after but was so exhausted from late night movie that it was all the spoons I had.

Friday I had lunch with Greer and then met a internet friend for a cafe beverage.  I don't think I was fun to meet in person, but he was polite about it and I may have briefly mentioned non-Shitlord topics.  Probably not a good few days to meet me in.
And again I failed to Christmas shop - did look in a few stores trying to find something for my mother, but after the go to things I know she likes don't seem to exist any more I was too exhausted t manage anything more.

I  have not been sleeping great since Shitlord texted to ask about the movie.  So much anger at myself and disappointment in him.  And confusion at my brain.

The weekend has been in my PJs, playing a mix of Pokemon Sword and Tales of Maj'Eyal while watching Netflix.  Finishing off Crazy Ex Girlfriend and then binging all of The Witcher in one go.
Unable to nap and still not sleeping so good.

And I have my follow up hospital appointment tomorrow, to check the pneumonia isn't still visible inside me.  And my actual final counselling apointment - my counsellor will be so very disappointed in the harmful decisions I have made in the last week.  Mostly the going to Star Wars.

Oxytocin is a bitch

I didn't enjoy the movie that much.  The Jedi stuff was too magic.  It was a fantasy move but with really ugly random elves.  JJ Abrams and the team with him was too keen on spectacle and making everything bigger and they did a terrible job of making it consistent with the series.  Also, the plot holes....

And I should not have hugged Shitlord good night.  It was an awkward turned mostly out of the way hug that was almost closer to a shoulder barge, but the moment we were in contact I just melted.
Three months of not interacting in person, I wasn't expecting the feelings to still be at full strength - which is stupid as we had a relationship of regular months long gaps.
He really was bad to go out with.

It was all just so awkward.
That he is still sticking with his "I never meant to hurt you, I kept things going to avoid hurting you, even though that really just made it all much, much worse" argument doesn't help.
I am not sure if he is lacking in self awareness or just hoping that he can appeal to my overly trusting nature enough to play me again.

When I challenged it by saying it seemed a lot like he was just keeping me around in case the other guy didn't work out (something I had asked a couple of times if that was a thing long before I actually knew there actually were other guys) he went silent and avoided eye contact.  So yeah, that was a part of it, and he knew it was wrong.  Wrong enough he didn't even attempt his usually dismissive defensiveness.

Why do I have so many positive feelings for someone who is such a dick.

Mostly today I am just angry at myself for my feelings.  And angry at how much I enjoy his company still.
I would really like him as a friend, but after the shit he has done I am not sure if that is something I can ever really do.

Getting home at 0330, after a long post movie chat with Shitlord.  Yes, I am an idiot.  I am far too in love and far too angry to be trying to be friends that much yet.

I am just hurting and confusing myself.

Stupidly nervous - probably a sign I should not go

I have been a ball of nerves all day and have eaten my entire strategic junk food supply.

I don't want to see Shitlord.  I really should not have agreed to this.  I am an idiot.

Definiately an idiot

Every single one of my friends who has heard of my "going to Star Wars with the same group I went to those other four Disney Star Wars films with" plan has strongly disapproved.

I should have said no, but then I'd have had to sort going with someone else and effort....
Much better to have stayed awake last night stressing over it and probably be left with a bunch of emotional turmoil afterward.   Definitely better than having to ask around to find a group that doesn't involve Shitlord to go with.....

Had been planning out an entry in my head about home weird and ham-fisted Shitlord's old landlord was - to the point it almost seems like he wanted it to look like he was trying to fix things but really just trying to make me stay away.

But then this evening Shitlord sent me an invite to go to Star Works with the people from his work.  He claims it was the ticket bought for me, so either he avoided letting on to his workmates at all that he no longer needed two tickets or he was planning on taking someone else and I am a last minute replacement.

I seem to have agreed to go.  Partially as I had been drafting him a complaint that I never intended to send about how I had seen all the Disney Star Wars films with him and now he was forcing me to break the pattern on the 5th one.
Partially as I like a lot of his work friends.
Partially as I couldn't think of a reason not to beyond not being sure if I think he counts as a human.
Partially as I make bad choices.


Otherwise today was mostly uneventful.  I had an appointment with my doctor's office to have a nurse give me my Annual Diabetes Review - about 18 months after my last one.
All my test results were like they came from someone much healthier than I am, as they always do.
Only number on her list she could complain about was my weight so she lectured me on eating healthier for a while.

I should be more careful with my health, but I will still be chronically ill regardless, which makes it so much harder to justify the efforts.

Softness and cake

The loan mattress is very soft.
Sleeping on it is weird as it kind of feels like it is trying to eat me.  Or at least smother me.

And I woke in the small hours crying (at least it was hours past being my birthday by that point) over how much my brain had decided I miss Shitlord.  Being still kind of in love with him is very very irksome.  The combination of having a creep try to guilt me into being friendlier to Shitlord and then seeing him....  it was all just a bit much for me as it turns out.

Stupid brain chemistry.

So unhelpful.

And I did such a good job of utterly ignoring the little voice telling me to hug him as I walked past, so instead it breaks my mind open in the middle of the night.

Then I had a day of listening to an audio book and playing a little Pokemon until it was time to shower and dress and go to the party that was thrown for me.

I have much better friends than I deserve.

The party was nice.   One of my Claires made me a fantastic raspberry and rhubarb cake.  My trans-sister made a rainbow coconut cake that had some issues with running colours and ended up mostly just red and green.  Very December.
I had failed to invite many people and it was all pretty last minute at the busiest time of year but was still a nice turn out.  Not a lot of people, but good people.

I ate too much, even after carefully only having a little slice of the good cake (though did eat the leftovers (slightly over a quarter of the cake) for breakfast today - like a fatty).

Grreg and Oli dropped me home, in the scheme of things pretty early.

My friends were great and left me feeling the most liked and valued that I have felt in a long time.

And I only ranted about Shitlord for like 10% of the night.



Today I have caught up on some TV, and mid afternoon i put a bit over an hour into starting the LEGO treehouse that I bought myself for my birthday.  But after back spasms kicked in I need to give up rather quick.
I hate how sickly I am.
And how much my brain still misses people it should not.

What a way to celebrate being basically a corpse now

The day has featured too much family.
After seeing Shitlord and him 'living up to expectations' had set the day off to a pretty shite start, I then just saw too much of my family.

Lunch with dad and Ev, then shopping with dad, then an evening of going to a Naval Reserve event for dad, with Ev.  Then a late dinner out with them.
Too much family.

Though late afternoon I had the distraction of my mattress finally being picked up, hopefully to get fixed.
Left in its place in a Loan Mattress.
The concept of a loan mattress is not pleasant.  It does seem super clean, but still....

Am still so annoyed about seeing Shitlord and the way he behaved.
After having received all that nagging about how I owe him continued friendship, he really wasn't backing that up.

Less of a Santa

Hair and beard trimmed back.
I look more human now and less "festive".

Because I have all the luck, I bumped into Shitlord in the street on the way to get my hair cut.
He ignored me, which might be my birthday present from him or is more likely a sign he forgot and just doesn’t care to even make polite greetings in passing.

Very nearly decrepit

Today I went to my counsellor for what was supposed to be my last appointment with him.  I ranted a lot about the messages from Shitlord's old landlord.
I ranted a bit about some spirals of dark thoughts.
And I rambled a bunch about basically nothing.

He decided I will get another session, though that will be mostly about following up on a referral to another service he is making for me.
He also explained that the service I had found advertised online was for people far worse than I am.  I am too sane for its DHB funded services.

Otherwise not much for the day.  Apart from hearing that the surgery my grandmother was waiting for, itself the reason I had avoided her in case I was germy, was cancelled as they found some irregularities.  She may just be sick, but it may also be cancer.

Annoying I have avoided her so long for no reason.

More of them

Yesterday featured more messages from Shitlord's old landlord.

Apparently I was never going out with Shitlord and that withholding my friendship over my misunderstanding is unfair of me.
I don't think this guy realises that all he is doing is confirming that Shitlord and the truth have an unconventional relationship.

It is just unpleasant for me, and is in no way making me want to make any more effort.  I have already put more effort into the possibility of my friendship with Shitlord than he deserves.


Last night I had subway for dinner and played some D&D 5th ed with friends.  I don't understand 5th ed much at all, but it is simplified so I should be okay.  First time playing actual D&D in almost a decade.  Normally when I tell people I am off to D&D it is just an easier way of saying Pathfinder.

And in happier news, Shitlord's flatmates (who I want to steal as friends) remembered my birthday without any reminder from me.  Am really hoping Shitlord himself does not remember it.
Or that as a present to me he would move to Wellington for the guy he was most cheating on me with (that I know of) and leave my city be - also making it much easier to keep those of his friends who I get along with.
But if his old landlotd is right he is staying in Dunedin.  Not that I suspect he tells the truth to anyone and that is the answer the old landlord (who also confirmed himself to be someone else Shitlord was sleeping with) would have most wanted to hear.

People....

Checked a dating site, in fact the one I met Shitlord on all those years ago, to find a message from a month ago (I had not checked in well over a month, it is almost like a signed up for things again to show I was moving on but had no interest in using them) from one of his old people friends (one who had been pretty open about disliking me) asking me to extend my friendship because clearly my believing I had ever been anything more than friends with Shitlord had just been confusion on my part.

I do not like Shitlord's old people friends, and this has just added to that.
I should take up religion so I can pray that they all get cancer and die.
Or pray that a sniper shoots off Shitlord's junk (as I can think of nothing else he would actually care enough about to feel real loss).
Because spite is what religion is for, right?

Was semi-helpful to someone. I have a use.

Today I left the house, I went with Carla to help her shop for Christmas present for her husband.
And we had lunch with him and another friend.
I was a person.  I interacted with people.  I had a break from isolation so crippling that I have enjoyed my sibling visiting recently.
And I got blood tests taken to check on my diabetes, they were supposed to be taken around the time of my missed exam but with the pneumonia it ended up very late.
By the time she got me home I could barely stand up.  I had basically just had a day of watching, I didn't even walk all that much, but it left me destroyed.  I stumbled up to my flat and had a nap.

There are a bunch of things I meant to sort for this week, but they probably will not end up happening as I am lacking the spoons to be that much of a human.

Tonight, I am too drained to find the energy to play Pokemon.  Will watch a bit of TV before bed even though I don't trust myself to remember much of anything tonight.

Damn those brains

I went to bed before 2230 last night as I was falling asleep in my chair.  And got to sleep pretty quickly (for me).

Then woke a few hours later coated in sweat and became very anxious that the fever was back, and thus the infection of the pneumonia.
The rest of the night then when to dozing broken up with fits of anxiety.  First about the infection and then just about all the things I am anxious about.

Fortunately the sweating stopped so hopefully it was just from unexpected warmth and not fever.

Those Brains

As my brain continues to fill the social isolation with unhelpful thoughts there is a bunch of missing Shitlord popping up.
All of it just leads to being reminded how miserable he made me even when things were 'good'.

Why did I give five years of my life to someone who was so not good to me?



The being all pneumonia and post-pneumonia stuck at home this close to a big depressing birthday has generally just done very bad things for my mental state.  I am not doing okay but I have no idea how to describe what exactly is going so bad and no idea what could help - which means I can't ask for help because I have no idea what help I need.

Brains

Woke in the middle of the night, super angry at Shitlord.  And lay awake for hours seething in said anger.  Because I am exhausted all the time even when I succeed at sleeping decently.  So helpful stupid Matthew brain.

Then I woke early thinking about the first person I ever thought i might have been in love with, back in high school.  I am pretty sure he didn't know, though was convinced everyone could tell at the time.
I messaged him on facebook when I got up, though in all the years I have had him on facebook he has never replied to any of my messages.

In the last five minutes it went from dry out to significant surface flooding - this is not Dunedin weather.  Stupid climate change.

I turn 40 in less than a week, and I still don't really expect to live to be 40.

There is no particular reason why I won't, it just seems like making it to 40 is an unlikely outcome from a life as shit as mine.

Lungs are the enemy

Going down my stairs and then back up was enough to leave my lung hurting more than it did from the walk to town and back yesterday.
My body is a jerk.

So little done today, is evening and I have not managed to wash or dress myself.  Because I have spent the whole day feeling exhausted and weak.

And now my chest is so fucking sore.

Muscle cramps

As has been an annoying pattern over the last month, after any physical anything I get muscle cramps.

I should be sleeping, but my legs are cramping so bad. 
Walking to town at a lazy pace should not be able to do this.

Shattered

I went for lunch with Oli today.  I was feeling pretty good so thought I should walk to town, I am supposed to be getting in daily light exercise and am mostly not.
It was nice, I went to the supermarket afterwards which was less nice.  New World had some December 5th one day Christmas themed sale with all the staff in costume and many many reps giving out free samples of things.  It was too loud, had I ASD then it would have been awful.  Times to be glad I am mostly neurotypical.  Actually, that might be all the times, I have enough problems as is.
On the way home I jumped into one of Shitlord's friends who I think I am successfully stealing.  Yay for new friends and for Shitlord being left friendless and alone.   Okay, I am feeling the hurt still and sometimes I need to vent that as pure bitterness.  All that bottling has had me pretty tender on the whole subject.

I got home and everything started to really hurt.  Even my neck muscles are angry about holding up my head.  It is their one job and they are still acting like it is an unreasonable request.

This extra level of fatigue is deeply frustrating.

Bottling

The weeks of being too sick to think, so mostly forgetting about Shitlord were not moving on.  They were bottling up.  unwanted thoughts have come back with a vengeance.

I am not a fun person to be just now.  My body still hurts a lot and now my brain is adding its level of less tangible pain to everything.

Don't get pneumonia

I had a very weird dream last night where I became the most hated man in the country after getting an All Black busted as a serious criminal - the AB in question was a certain Hungarian I know who I don't think has even watched rugby in the years I have known him.

After that I was very awake.

So I have spent today extra exhausted and sore.

Pneumonia sucks.

And I have done basically nothing with my day, though after a weekend at it I am now three gym badges in to Pokemon Sword.

I have not coughed up blood in over four days now

I have done a bit this week.  Not a lot, but a bit.  And I paid for that bit.

Have been mostly living on precooked meals that midget dropped down, and got a couple of dinners out of a take-n-bake box that Carla got me from Johnny's Southern Kitchen.
Basically no cooking of my own - though I now really have to do dishes.  Failing to do anything much around the house, just on top of laundry and nothing else.

On Wednesday evening I went for dinner and some socialising at a friends place - they picked me up and dropped me off and yet I still spent the next day basically too exhausted from it to do anything.

Friday I walked in and saw my counsellor.  By about half way in my lung stung with every breath.
Had a nice chat mostly just about how I have been too sick and exhausted to have much in the way of emotions.  So mostly my counselling appointment got wasted on pneumonia, but was rather nice and chill.  First appointment I haven't cried at.
On the way home I caught up with a surprisingly large number of friends in the street.  Was really nice.  Even had a very nice chat with Shitlord's flatmates - who still seem like they are on my side in it all.

Today my trans-sister visited for a bit to talk about her exciting social life - there is a lot of catching up happening for having been isolated through her late teens and most of her 20s, now in her 30s she is doing the undergrad style over-socialising.  Sick as I am, just hearing about it was exhausting.

I have been playing a bunch of Pokemon Sword, am now two badges in.  I get tired fast so I can't play for long before I need a nap.  And after the walking of yesterday I am pretty much just sore everywhere today.

But I am recovering.
Slowly.

Hopefully I will be feeling mostly normal again by the time I turn 40.
Assuming I live that long.

I do not like pikachu

Yesterday, I finally felt well enough to give the new Pokemon game a try, more than a week after it was delivered to me.
I don't think people realised I was too sick to play games level sick - in part as I had a game open, but never actually being played, on my computer so that when people visited things seemed more normal.
I picked the water starter and got a female, which worked out well as the androgynous form of the finally stage has a definite female vibe.  Not so bad as some previous starters (especially the fire one from X/Y and the water from Sun/Moon) that looked very female but still had the normal started gender ration of 7 males to 1 female.
And no-one cares.
Rambling about Pokemon will just make sure all the readers vanish again - which is probably a good thing.  The horrible relationship imploding brought too many readers - no-one is supposed to read this, it exits so I can feel like I have told people stuff without ever actually having to tell anyone.

Dullness

The fever passing has helped, but I am still exhausted, coughing up blood and having a bit of chest pain from the lung damage.

So I have basically done nothing all week.

Was cocky about not needing help from people any more, but still pretty sick and failing to do much.

On Monday I saw my GP who was all "you are past the worst, now you are basically fine - though you will feel pretty awful for a few more weeks, you can go back to doing all the usual stuff.  Just maybe a bit slower."

I feel like he doesn't understand the interaction of chronic health problems with pneumonia as I seem to be much more taken out than he told me I would be.
Or I am just a lame, lame-arse.

And still have mustered the energy to even load the new Pokemon game after basically a week.

Random asides of forgetfulness

On Friday when my counsellor rang to see why I had cancelled the appointment, he straight out blamed Shitlord for my pneumonia - being that it is mostly the artefact of having been very worn down.
Which was nice.

I still haven't managed to start Pokemon.  I had to go and check which one I had - having not loaded it yet, I wasn't sure.

Cockiness and coughing up blood

I am feeling much recovered except I am constantly too exhausted to do anything.  Even watching TV is mostly a bit much and computer games are well too much effort.

Also, still coughing up blood.  Mostly just first thing in the morning and immediately after any time I tell people I am no longer coughing up blood.

My sibling delivered the new pokemon game to me on Saturday, a bit before I had Oli and family visit.  Two and a half year olds are weird.

Overcooked brains

On Sunday, on the way home from my first night in hospital, I bought Juicies.  Wildberry ones.
Today I discovered the box unopened in my freezer.

I am glad to have them, but on those bad fever days I sort of needed them but was unable to remember that they were there, or to even look in my freezer for cold options.

Fevers make it hard to look after one's fever sensibly.

Rejected, publically humiliated, it's more than I can bear.... More beer?

Forgot to mention before.  Heard back from examination office on Wednesday.  I was rejected Special Considerations, so I failed uni for the semester.  Not even sure having found out it was partially pneumonia would have made a difference.

And still alive

Just keeping myself sort enough to pretend I am looking after myself is so much work.  I don't know how anyone manages to actually look after themselves.
Haven't thrown up any food or pills since that incident on Monday night.  Though must concede that throwing up when all you have in you in water is somehow more of a defeat.  But have now worked out the trigger and know that if I am not feeling actively cold then I should be nil by mouth until I cool myself down enough that I am.
Am getting very sick of feeling cold - which is weird as I am traditionally quite the coldness fan.

Midget sent over hot pasta dinner on Tuesday evening and a prepared shepherd's pie dinner for me to reheat for last night.
Carla delivered some stuff yesterday meaning I am set for tonight as well.

I have good friends.

And after calling the nurse at my doctor's office about coughing up blood I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, though the nurse suggested it would not be unreasonable to go back to ED about that one.

Still alive-ish

Saturday night was spent in ED, but I got out pretty early and David got me home via the supermarket and I was all sorted to be home.  Wrote the last entry but mostly just slacked about not being up for much of anything.
In the evening I was feeling very unwell, Oli came around with a thermometer and it revealed I was up on 39 degrees again.  So went back in following the instructions on the discharging doctor from my first night there.  Once I finally made it from the waiting room to ED I got a doctor almost immediately (though for the only time until I was discharged) and she decided I was staying the night again pretty quickly.  I got moved to Obs almost immediately and had a relatively quiet night, I think.  Oli stayed with me chatting for a few hours.  I got new sheets just after midnight because I had soaked though everything with sweat and was sleeping under just a sheet that still felt far too warm.  I woke up when the breakfast lady came around shivering under a pile of blankets with the detritus of at least one drip having happened overnight.  Seems at some point over night I had been sick enough to accept paracetamol (which I don't think any of the doctors believed I react badly to).  Thus the "I think" about it being a relatively quiet night.
I was kept in until lunchtime Monday when I cranky old man doctor who seemed pretty certain I shouldn't have stayed at all sent me home and told me to try to tough it out.

Last night while eating some dinner for the many many meds I have to take with dinner now I discovered my body unwilling to keep Paasha down.  No idea how much of my medication also got vomited away.  By the instructions of all but that last doctor I should have gone back to ED.  I did not.

And today I haven't died, and feel no worse than I did for much of yesterday, so I guess it worked out ok.

Every time I cave to pressure and go to the urgent doctor it turns out I should have gone to ED.

After the pressure from healthline I got David to drive me to the urgent doctor.  He even sat and waited with me for well over an hour there,
Once I got seen I was told to go to ED, the doctor even came out and talked about it with David to make sure I actually went.
I could have saved $70 by just going to the ED, except I had been pretty confident it was psychosomatic (which is not something I get beyond anxiety tightness in my chest).
It was not.
I was running a temperature of almost 39, which doesn't sound that high to me but makes doctors and the ED nurses uncomfortable.
The nurse was pretty exciting when the meds had got my temperature down to 37.9.  By this morning it was 36.6 - which they said was normal, if lower than what I think is normal.  So they could send me home with lots of antibiotics.
David waited far longer than is fair to him for me before it become clear I was probably staying over and he finally went home.  He is a much better friend than I deserve.
The urgent doctor, and at the start also the ED staff worried I had meningitis.  Blood tests were inconclusive.  It was the chest x-ray that identified the large infected area in my lung - that had caused no respiratory symptoms at that stage.  The nasty cough started only after the antibiotics did.

Healthline are trigger happy

Have asked a friend to come drop me at the urgent doctor after ringing the health line, my vision and ability to stand up went funky, and being told I really needed to see a doctor.
Probably a sign that I am not alright.

Head pain has got to the point that I understand why trepanation is a thing.


I am very unwell

Menapause?

I notice yesterday that I was uncomfortably warm but also shivering.  A lot.
It started up again mid-morning and the timing made me realise it is very much Shitlord focused.
Yet another weird physiological response to the hurt I keep letting him cause me.
The frequent crying is bad enough.
And the chest pain of anxiety attacks.
Now disgusting thermoregulation malfunctions.

Explaining why his message was not okay on here, and the much shorter simpler version I sent him, seems to have just hurt me.

For some reason the lies he told after we broke up are somehow more disappointing than the ones has had spent years telling me.
Why keep lying to me afterwards?  It just makes no sense to me, but hurts.


[Edit]
Talking about it must have given it more power, now wrapped in a blanket with my arms and legs feeling like I am freezing and my face being so hot it almost feels like it burns.
Feeling this physical awful from what I am pretty sure is mental stuff is just adding to my deep disappointment about still being alive.

Shitlord is a shit

So I got a message, semi-tangential to the brief exchange of Wednesday about how friendship needs more trust than Shitlord has currently given me reason to have.

It is problematic in a few ways:

First, he has not mentioned it before.  He has not mentioned the other guy, who it seems he has settled with, since the night he came over for the talk immediately after things blew up.  Hasn't mentioned his existing or their relationship at all since then.  And in that talk the sentiment he gave about it was not one that matches this message.  He straight out said it wasn't going to work and would be over soon, as was pretty forward in hoping I would give him another shot.  Maybe acting rather too much like it was a given that I would.

Second, I had said nothing that would give any indication I want anything more than friendship from him.  The conversation was about if he could ever prove worth of even deserving any of my friendship.  He is taking some pretty sizeable steps based on nothing I had said.

Third, where was this relationships count for something attitude when the relationship was with me?  I am really not the person to use that line on after cheating on me for years and now I am just supposed to believe you are, by nature, someone who doesn't cheat.  There is no way that isn't a slap in my face.

I could explain this all to him, but what would be the point.  He clearly doesn't actually care about the effect he has on people around him.
Though it helps with one thing, it makes things more clear that he does not deserve my friendship.
Also, I think he has conflated conversations with other recent cast-offs.

Stupid annoyances

Still very irked that the counsellor is so convinced that I am a suicide risk, especially after I was carefully censoring my answers to make me seem better than I have been.

Maybe I should have just asked what a mental breakdown feels like - because "is this what a mental breakdown feels like" has been something I have been wondering a lot lately.

My muscles still hurt from the furniture moving on Sunday.
So weak and wobbly.

Young me would be disappointed

Yesterday I got angry at the Hungarian flag in my flat.  I was going to thrown it out, the friend who gave it to me suggested that I burn it on a Guy, but I ended up shoving it in Shitlord's mailbox as a passive-aggressive slight that will probably be misinterpreted as a sign of friendship.

I did this on my way to counselling and sorting my special considerations application.  I got all the paperwork done and the stuff filed with student health sorted and paid for (which is a giant scam as they make you pay for the certificate separately from the appointment).
Counselling itself got very focused on how I am a danger to myself and not very focused at all on anything useful.  It seems I am considered too suicidal for the conversation to have been about anything more than staying alive.
I didn't think I was that bad.
Apparently my self-harming through food, which I think of as a coping mechanism, is seen as more of a warning sign by my counsellor.
Maybe it is stuff that needs sorted, and I have no idea what it actually is that I need to talk about, but it feels like I have wasted too much of the six sessions I get focused on being alive - which just doesn't seem that important a focus to me.

Last night was Guy Fawkes.  For yet another year running I spent it at home alone with no fireworks.
I haven't done Guy Fawkes fireworks in so many years.  I think 2011ish might have been the last time - whenever it was I did it with Firmin's family.
Young me loved fireworks and would be bitter;y disappointed by how much I have matured into apathy toward them.

Apparently I'm fine

This morning when even making it to the bathroom had been proving a struggle, I managed to get some laundry washed.  Tina arrived while I was very slowly hanging it and helped the process along.  Then she took me with her while she took her car to VTNZ.  We went for a walk in town and bumped into Shitlord's flatmate (who I really want to steal as a friend).  Had a nice chat about Pokemon, I managed to not mention Shitlord for minutes.  Progress.
And the weirdness.  The flatmate and I had just got to the point where a quick manly hug was fine before things went kersplat, but now there was just awkward standing and him patting my shoulder.
That said, I had left the house when I wasn't planning to, so wasn't so washed as I would like.  I would have been bad to hug.

Then I got dropped home, zoned out some, had a hot shower to try and relieve the muscle pain which made me feel sick from the warmth, so ending up having a cold shower.
Being clean proved useful as I had utterly forgotten I had dinner plans, last chance to see Simon before he goes overseas on a trip I had also forgotten about.  Nando's as they have yet to poison Firmin.
Hugging people farewell I discovered my muscle plain from yesterday is still such that hugging people proves horrible painful for me.  Simon, who I have been known to hug a little more firmly than he would like, took some pleasure in this.

I discovered while in Firmin's car on the way to dinner that Shitlord has tested to say he was glad that I am fine.
Fine is not how I would describe how I am.  I am assuming his flatmate had filled him in that I was managing to not burst into tears at any mention of Shitlord now.
But I still took the text as an attack, because I am a moron.

And my constant efforts to prove myself at fault of things as I continue to want to see the best in Shitlord.  This is almost certainly not good for me.
Oh, the many ways that I hurt myself.......

At least I have my counsellor tomorrow, though part of that will go to sorting my Special Considerations application.
I feel like such an idiot for missing my exam, but at the time it didn't seem like a thing I could even pretend to do.

So crippled

I can barely stand today.  Arms and legs both of jelly.
It is almost like I pushed through my chronic illness and did a short burst of heavy lifting yesterday....

Atypical is feeling like an attack, for weird reasons

This morning I cleaning and vacuumed to prepare for gaining extra furniture that I didn't really need.  Was feeling sick and out of spoons, while also very sweaty, before the important part of the day even started.

Oli, Firmin and Ian all helped move a dining table and chair, a big book case and a display cabinet that required some trickiness so get into the building as it is slightly taller than the stairwell.

I have better friends than I deserve.

And the physical effort destroyed me.  I forget that I am actually chronically ill with surprising regularity and then do things and my body then reminds me why I don't do things - it reminds me hard.
I am sickly as fuck.

Then Atypical attacked me by having people argue over how relationships should work in ways that were very much arguments I should have had four to five years ago.  And then having relationship drama linked to people going to Fleetwood Mac with other partners.


Wood polish is making my head hurt.  I don't remember having problems with Neopol before but tonight..... owwie.....

Unless my regular migraine is just angry about my extreme overspending of spoons today.

Today mostly didn't

I missed my exam.
Me.
Me who has never missed much of anything in all my time at uni.
But I woke up, after sleeping through my alarm a surprisingly long time, and the moment I thought about the content of the exam I should be heading to I started to cry.  And I kept crying.  And I decided getting out of bed and going to the exam was a level of humaning that I was not up to.  And I am associating the course with the life events that happened during it rather too strongly.

So I had another day mostly of crying.

The day kind of vanished on me, I might have lost time or maybe I was just too in my head to notice the day happening.

I didn't get washed and dressed until almost seven hours after the exam I had failed to get to finished.  And when I ate dinner I was left feeling very unwell.  Everything is rebelling.

I have done nothing - including none of the tidying of my flat I needed to do considering I am getting more furniture tomorrow, stuff from my grandmother's house that I have no space for.

Still studying... because

I have spent today continuing to study for my exam even though doing so if just making it more and more clear that I should not go.
I only need to get 2 of the 40% the exam has on offer to pass, meaning I basically can't fail to pass if I turn up.  But even looking at the practice questions is provoking uncontrollable sobbing.
I think my mental health requires that I gamble on the risk of failing the paper and applying for aegrotat.  Or just failing something I would pass pretty much just be turning up.

In all my years and my three-ish degrees worth of papers (it may even be more than that by now) I have never missed an exam before.  It seems very weird.
Also, getting the aegrotat doesn't matter.  I am chronically ill and have been over a decade, my academic transcript is never going to matter for anything as my life is too much of a dumpster fire for such things as more failed papers to make any difference at all.  And one failed paper won't affect my loan eligibility.  In the scheme of things it seems much more important that I worry about my well-being than that I care about this paper that was really only done for interest and distraction.

 And the reply to the email I sent to the exam office was very patronising and suggested I should have applied for a separate room months ago - which is an unhelpful response to someone working to find a way around an acute health event that would make him a distraction to others should he be in the exam.



[Edit]
Barely a minute into rewatching the lecture on Theseus and I started to feel physically sick thanks to whatever stupid mental connection with life events of recent months had triggered.
I am giving up on studying and even pretending that I will make the exam tomorrow.  Must accept that I have to prioritise my mental health over a paper that was mostly just supposed to be a distraction from my life/failing mental health.
Why is my brain attaching Shitlord to everything that happened in recent months so much?  It does not help.

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?

Great Taste doesn't taste so great

Had a quiet day watching some bad TV, including all of Frayed, and playing some Zelda.

My father and sibling turned up so we could go out for dinner.  And it ended up being to the awful buffet Great Taste, because I couldn't bring myself to agree to go to our usual nice dinner out place, because Shitlord works there.  And I am just not ready for incidental visits into spaces that are 'his space'.

I feel a bit bad for inflicting bad food on people just because I am still feeling very betrayed.  And I am about fifty-fifty certain that I am going to cave and give him a real chance to try to earn back some sort of friendship.  I know I shouldn't, at least not yet.  But I want to be able to semi-like him.

Anyway, I should go try and sleep again.
Tomorrow I have to miss class for a memorial service for my Great-Uncle Brian.  He died about three weeks ago - I probably didn't mention it on here as I was pretty distracted by the fact I had weirdness going on with Shitlord (days before it went from my friends giving me the DTMFA speech to things being pretty thoroughly over).

Glorious Sleep

For the first time in about three weeks I managed seven hours of sleep.
It is amazing.

Shitlord feeling that I should have forgiven him already made things settle down wonderfully.  It was a view straight through the gaps in his human suit.  And suddenly I am not that worried if I ever find forgiveness for him or not.  I have spent all this time feeling like I have to forgive everything, out of some sort of respect for the love I have for him.  But I have finally realised that the person I love may be attached to him, but is not the same guy now wanting my forgiveness.

I may be stuck loving him, but apart from that I don't really have to let him mean that much else to me.

I may end up friends with him, I may not.  In the great scheme of things maybe it doesn't matter.

I think the friendship would benefit him far more than it would me - I am pretty blessed with better friends than I deserve, and his friendships seem more limited than I realised.  I thought he was hiding me from the majority of his friends - but I am coming to think he doesn't actually have all that many close friends.  Maybe because his dishonesty has caught up with him before.

I have been assuming the dishonesty was a special just for me flaw in him as a person, but I am really not that special.