November 9, 2017

She left again. She had to.



November 8, 2017

This place was active from ’10 to ’13 as I, an angry young student back then, ranted about life and talked music/art. A few years later, things have changed — I’m less angry, less judgmental, and just plain old, really. ‘Adult-life’ has arrived, and so wages a new conflict between old dreams and growing up.

Here is where I sketch out my thoughts & memories about this phase of life and mix it up with fiction. All intertwined into each other and indiscernible, and you get to watch. Anything & Everything.

A new(?) beginning

November 8, 2017

It’s been an interesting few days. Some people from HFA reached out or commented on my post (previous blogpost here) to offer support. I was able to have a nice long conversation with one and it helped me be okay on saturday night as I went out buying some winter clothing.

Sunday was difficult again though. Maybe it started again the previous night, on saturday, when I was going to bed. But I had a report due that I had to work on as well. I just stayed in my room, cooped up, grieving and trying to work. It was getting a bit bunch, so I really did go ahead and submit the form for university counselling (I hadn’t on Saturday, can’t fully recall why). They called me up Monday afternoon to decide a time. Tuesday late afternoon it was, then.

Monday changed a few things, at night. My therapist finally reached out to me and had a small conversation on text. We decided to discuss scheduling soon in one of the upcoming days. I was afraid I had lost her.

The person I was grieving over, A, I was getting angrier and angrier at. Selfish of her, I thought. Can’t even be bothered to check in with me, or just say hello. I’m so meaningless in her world now, and it happened so quickly and silently. I decided to just disappear from hers, it was too much and I was too angry.

But that would’ve been selfish too. It would’ve been just like her. I didn’t want to be her. I didn’t want to not try. So I reached out to ask how she’s doing. For all I know I could be imagining things, maybe she was just insanely busy. Or she was sick. Or dealing with a personal crisis. That got the conversation started.

She cleared a lot of things up. Both about the present and the past. Turns out she had noticed I had decided to disappear and had caught my previous post too. She didn’t reach out because she thought I need space.

I conveyed my sense of hurt and loss and she conveyed her sorrow back. Somehow, finally, I felt like things were clearing up. I went to the kitchen for dinner, relieved, lighter. Having a little more fun. I came back and she had more stuff to say. Specifically, that she was seeing someone. Sigh. Already. Of course she found someone, how could she not have. What I had suspected and feared quite some time ago was finally a truth.

But I was still okay. Hurting, stung, yes. But somehow, much better than I’ve been these last many days. Maybe because the emotional distance has been cleared again, finally. Even if the romance is gone.

I went to the university counselor today, Tuesday. Not a whole lot of help, ha. But she did give me some interesting material to look into, and said the door was open if I need it again. And then, with the report deadline having been extended to the midnight, I was off to work on it again and try to finish it off.. whatever crappy shape its in now.

There’s still a lingering sense of loss. It comes and goes. But it’s not as intense anymore. And there’s some happiness too, happiness at having someone valuable back. Even if it’s not in the shape I had hoped to have them back. Because they’re back, in full atleast, finally. As themselves.

I finished the report by midnight and popped over to the kitchen for frozen pepperoni pizza. Ham, so what. I’ve stuffed myself with so much crap this past week. Today too, just lots of chocolate just to stay energized and focused and not feel drowned out. Things change hopefully in a few days, but for now, I reward myself with a midnight snack. E is there, I have a nice conversation with her. Scared here again just by knocking, haha, she’s adorable. And off she goes to sleep while I come back for some music while the pizza bakes in the oven.

Youtube. Search dido. Northern skies it is.

This is the first song I shared with M before we had started talking intensely last year. Where it all began with her, I suppose. It’s such a lovely, heartfelt, humanely-sad song. And that video. And that instrumental end. And dido’s voice and lyrics. Listening/watching it, I feel such an immense sense of peace, coupled with sadness. I lost M. I’ve kinda lost A, parts of her that I perhaps had before. I’ll lose her moreso with time as she focuses her life on the guy she’s now seing and her new home. It happens. People come and then they go. Parents lose their children too, as they grow up, become independent, evolve and change, go out into the world. I can’t help but tear up a bit at it all.

Those ten minutes with the song were probably the most peaceful I’ve had since coming here. This is probably the most peaceful night, post-midnight, I’ve had in a few months at least. It’s quiet and it’s late and it’s mine.

I skip to the next one, Dido’s If I Rise. I go into the kitchen to revisit this gem again, with pizza in my mouth and headphones in my ears. Meditative. I need to start writing shit again.

Loss and mourning

November 4, 2017

I am still struggling to move on and move past the two close relationships I’ve had at the ripe old age of 29.

My first was last year. It lasted two months, albeit it got serious quickly — we were both novices + wanted mostly the same things. She had difficulty trusting because of her childhood; I had difficulty respecting boundaries because of mine. She pulled the plug from anxiety and distanced herself… After a period of denial, I got distraught and tried to lean on her, she distanced herself further, I got distraught further… in a few weeks she stopped trying to talk to me, and in a few months she stopped responding as well and obliterated me from her life. Meanwhile I reflected on my mistakes with my therapist, grew and learnt past some of the fundamental ones and tried to communicate, but no luck, I just received absolute blame. I was just a ghost to her. It was, emotionally, truly like losing family or a spouse, in the worst way possible — cut off and blamed for the cutoff. You’re so despicable and lowly that the person you care for the most will leave you and they will blame you for it too.

I still had to come across her everyday for other reasons. No wonder I had to deal with intense daily anxiety, grief, taking up smoking, and suicidal tendencies for about 8 months before I was exhausted and just quit. I finally got some semblance of sanity back, but kept on grieving, mourning, the frequency coming down with time but never completely gone.

This past summer I lucked into someone else I got along with. She was in a different city so all we could do was text, aside from one chance dinner when she was in town. It was nothing official or set. But again, quickly I became used to her and started to lean on her for emotional support and outlet, daily, and she on me. We were both going to the same new country soon for studies and had planned to meet up there and see what happens. I left 2 weeks earlier, then waited for her to arrive, kept in touch. She arrived, and… quickly stopped engaging as much, changed. Busy. New life, new people, new place, important chapter. I was hurt, fights ensued, she was bewildered by my behavior. I took some distance to heal while she graciously gave me space. And now, even though we talk, it’s just not the same. The emotional connection isn’t there anymore and she’s a different person now, we just talk about superficial things. I’m back again, lonely and still trying to form friends and bonds, while she’s made hers and is investing more into them. So I’m back to grieving what was and is now no more, back to that familiar, constant place of 15 years, of loss and loneliness.

Why this sense of emptiness? Why this level of emotional dependence? It’s so easy to pass it off as just another random complex, another bewildering insecurity, but it’s not. This is what you get when you’ve had a childhood of going quiet and being afraid of your carer’s outbursts and threats and physical harm. When you stop talking at home after being named ‘parrot’. When can’t really be yourself, you can’t share your true thoughts in your family, never have, because it was mocked, dismissed, belittled or repeatedly questioned by your parent, while the other one felt too helpless or confused to do anything. When you got paralyzed into silence when a full-bodied chair was held up as a threat to hit you to keep you from crying. When you couldn’t form a solid emotional bond with your siblings because they were just as clueless, learned and internalized the same quietness to the point it’s just their personality trait now. When you’re held to high expectations and blamed, face agression instead of support, when you fail, even on random life trials (because they’re, supposedly, not random). You learn to go quiet and shut up and keep to yourself, you rely on yourself only, that’s the only way you learn to manage. You lose a lot still, you miss out a lot of lessons and lifeskills still, because you only had you and no-one else to learn from. And then when someone actually comes into your life that seems reliable emotional support, one that you can count on into the future, have a sense of stability and belonging with… you lose them too. Back again by your lonesome, with no one to count on. It seems to be your fate — you lose people, at least emotionally, because you’re too dependent, but you’re too dependent because you’ve lost people, at least emotionally, when you really needed them growing up. You grieve intensely and have difficulty moving on. It’s a constant state of sadness and emptiness which harms you further because no one wants to be friends with a sad person.

By now my therapist is missing too. We were supposed to resume collaboration this month after we had both relocated but I haven’t heard from her. I tried contacting but no response. I’m thinking of finally going to the university’s counselling centre and getting some kind of emotional support, it’s worth a shot. It is, after all, childhood emotional neglect and emotional abuse aftereffects that you’re reeling from, now almost into your thirties.