Category Archives: Health

Thanks, Brain

Things were going well. We’d been exchanging messages back and forth for nearly two weeks. He was cute and funny. He asked to meet me just as I was about to do the same. I asked for his phone number so we could text and not rely on the sometimes-glitchy dating system. He sent me his phone number and his Twitter handle.

Which seemed oddly familiar. It was just a couple of letters off from one of his friend’s handles. But that can happen when you’re talking to a guy who is into video games; many people share an interest in the same gaming characters. But then I checked the description.


I sent a message to a different friend of his telling him that this was crossing the line. He told me that he missed me. I responded in kind and he came into the room and kissed me.

Seriously, what is WRONG with my brain? It’s not enough that I struggle during the day with this, I have to dream about it, too? Dream about things that my conscious self knows will never happen, good or bad? I know I’m still angry about the “friend” that hacked my blog, but it’s one heck of a stretch to think that another “friend” would create a fake profile on a dating site and trick me. It’s another stretch to think that he misses me, would just randomly show up and all would be well again.

I have no reason to think that his feelings about all of this – and about me – have changed. And I can’t allow myself to think that the apology I sent him would change anything. At least not in my waking state.

But it’s there, nonetheless, waiting for me to let down my guard and finally stop resisting the sleep I need.

I Don’t Know Where To Be

I don’t know what to do with these feelings. I want to move on but I don’t. I want to be able to get through a day without hearing something or seeing something that reminds me of him, but I can’t. I’m not ready to completely forget, to let go. I wish I had a friend to talk to about this but I know I’d sound like a broken record. And a part of me believes that my words would fall on deaf ears like “Enough already, he was just a boyfriend! It’s not like you’re getting divorced or he’s moving out or he died! Watch a chick-flick, have a glass of wine and MOVE ON!” Because part of me agrees with that. A part of me thinks that enough time has passed that I should be able to get through a day without thinking about him who knows how many times.

But I can’t help it. I’m absolutely miserable. Every part of me hurts, my muscles are tense and it takes me hours to fall asleep. And it’s completely pointless because my being miserable is not helping me. All it does it remind me of what I threw away with my tantrum. I miss him like crazy but that isn’t going to change anything. I’m mourning – and for what? He didn’t die, he’s perfectly healthy and happy – happy and moving on without me, and I’m miserable without him. I don’t want to move on because thinking about someone new means leaving him behind. And it’s so stupid to think that because I’m the one that threw him away. I 100% regret what I did last month and I’m miserable because it doesn’t matter how badly I feel, I’m the one that screwed things up. And it hurts so much.

And I hate hurting like this. Every day I wake up thinking I’m going to take a tiny baby step forward, I’m going to make a small attempt to move on with my life, but by the end of the day when I’m alone, deciding I should be getting ready for bed and thinking about my weekend plans, I suddenly remember that I don’t have him to say goodnight to anymore, to plan with anymore, to look forward to seeing anymore. My fake smile and my false mood come crashing down and I end up crying myself to sleep. I can’t forgive myself and I can’t move on – because this pain is all I have left of the wonderful I destroyed.

And that makes me sound like a complete nutcase.

Apparently My Unconscious Isn’t Done

I’m getting better every day. It’s getting easier every day.

I haven’t broken out in random sobs for 3 days. When a coworker asked if Brad and I were back together yet, my eyes didn’t tear up when I replied, “no.”

The anger and hurt have turned to a dull ache in my stomach, an apathetic numbness that carries me through the day.

The nights are the hardest, feeling empty and alone because I can no longer text him “I love you, good night” and it takes me longer to fall asleep.

But in the middle of sleep my brain decides to shove sickly-sweet dreams and violent nightmares my direction. Dreams and nightmares that are so vivid, so convincing, so real that when I wake from them at oh-dark-thirty in the morning, it takes me about ten to fifteen minutes to finally realize that those horrible things didn’t happen or that we’re not still/back together. Every night this week I’ve woken in a cold sweat just hours after I closed my eyes.

I might be able to fake my way through the day and ever-so-slightly come to grips with the fact that this relationship is over, but it seems I’m not out of the woods yet.

A part of me thinks that this intense heartache is silly: I didn’t go through any of this with Jake, to whom I was married for 3 years, and Brad and I were only together for 10 months. But I also cannot deny what I am feeling. This relationship was so full of love and emotion and amazing experiences – and I will not discount that. My heart is truly broken and I will not feel shame for this feeling after such a seemingly short romance. I feel what I feel, that’s all there is to it.

But if my days are still permeated by this pain, is it too much to ask that my brain allow me to sleep and try to regain just a bit more energy to get me through the day? To let me sleep a whole night without constant reminders of what I lost?