My birthday, and the most depressing day of the year. From when I was a child every birthday was worse than the last. There would be arguments and tears, kicks and punches (psychologically). Mum and I would stop talking, sometimes for days after. Even if I tried celebrating after this day, something would go wrong. I think it was around my 16th birthday when I stopped giving a shit. For a few years after, my family would try to encourage me to do something with them or with my friends but I didn’t have any desire to. Now we don’t even discuss my birthday at home. My sister still tries, actually she probably gets more excited than I do, but my answer is always “nothing”.
The emotional association started today, when I said I would bake a cake and mum told me not to. I replied “do you know it’s 1st August tomorrow” and mum raised her eyebrows at me saying “yes, so what do you want for your birthday?”.
These past few month of my life have been so difficult and confusing. I fought to keep my relationship alive, I fought demons, my health has declined, I’ve struggled at uni – and now after all of this, my relationship with S has ended. Again.
It’s been hard, both of us have been hurt along the way. Every wrong turn leads back to our past and everything we did wrong the first time round. I’m not sure that either of us really want it to end, but it’s better that it ends now.
So where do I go from here? I’m just about to start a new chapter of my life and I have absolutely no direction. Currently, the next step is to drown myself in tequila and regrets at my 23rd birthday, and then I can start adulting.
I’ve been trying to write this post for a while, but I don’t know how to write about something that I don’t even know is real or not. Whatever it is or is not, it is happening to me right now. It is a part of my life and therefore I can write about it. Write?
Me and the boyfriend got high together recently, it was all good fun until I had a bad trip and my come-down suddenly smacked me all the way down. During the trip, I saw myself disappearing in fragments, like a dandelion. I remember thinking, “is this how I go?” And then the high was over.
I’ve recently been told I may or may not have CIN-2 (in a nut shell), that is, pre-cancerous cells in my cervix. May or may not, because no doctor has the time for me. The whole experience, from the day I got referred to gynaecology, has been exhausting. Doctors are sticking their head between my legs and sticking their instruments in places where they do not belong.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to tell my family as much as possible without telling them anything about my sex life! My family of medical professionals…
I’m so irrationally angry at S. I don’t have the time or the emotion to spare for this. We’ve had massive communication problems for months now – part of the reason we are always arguing. He tells me we need to talk about it, but only when I have more time. I have two months left at university, with at least two deadlines every week leading up to the last due-date, meaning he wants to talk in 2 months time?
Why would he bring it up then?! “I need to articulate it.” He’s telling me he wants to talk, but he hasn’t figured out what he wants to talk about?! So he’s warning me now that in a few months time we’ll be having a conversation about this conversation. What am I supposed to do with that?
We haven’t spoken for two days now.
I don’t know how I have let things get this bad. All these weeks of silencing my pain. .
I can’t describe what I feel, I just know that its wrong. It feels like the world is jigging past me. There are moments that I can’t account for. I can feel either empty, sad or angry with no in-between.
I seem to be on a mission to throw people out of my life. S (the ex – stop rolling your eyes) and I are doing what we do… all over again… but I get that completely unreasonable feeling that he is hiding something from me. So of course I over think this, turn it in to a problem for us, then do what I do best and cock it all up.
What upset me the most about the situation with my friend (previous post) is that she was holding things against me, and while I was repeating this story to another friend I realized, this is exactly what I do to S. I hold everything against him.
Basically. In writing all these posts I’ve found that I have serious issues and I am a massive hypocrite. 🙂
University is the stereotypical time of your life where you meet your closest friends. I’m very happy to say I’ve made a couple of close friends in my 4 year grind, but I am saddened by the ‘friends’ I chose to have along the way. People who I let walk over me and yet continued to try and please.
I have 3 months left at University. I don’t want these ‘friends’ in my life anymore, but they don’t know this. A recent argument with a so called friend opened my eyes to all the shit that I have taken through our relationship – mainly because it was all being thrown in my face and I was literally apologizing for it. I asked said friend how many times she planned on digging things up, her response was “as many times as I want.” What the fuck was I apologizing for?
There has been so much drama in my life surrounding said friend and the rest of this friend-group. I want out. I have true friends in my life, who I have had falling outs with but who have never held anything against me nor me them.
I have tried telling these people I don’t want to be friends with them, but they still want to be friends with me. When they say to me that I am acting strange, I want to say no this is not strange, this is me finally standing up for myself.
I have a very close friend who has been in an abusive, shitty relationship for almost one year now. The weekend just passed we celebrated her 23rd birthday. It was a laugh! She seemed happy.
I reached home Sunday evening and a few hours later I receive a text saying that her and her boyfriend had yet another argument. He’s stormed off upstairs and gone to sleep, and she’s swallowed a box of pills. She told me – there’s the cry for help.
The whole time that was happening i was thinking of S. I know he’s hurt himself before, he’s probably tried some shit like this too. But who was there to save him?
Life has been like the opening scene of final destination 3 (Ok, maybe that is a bit much). I strapped in to my seat, I saw the crash happen before me and I held on no matter what. Except in reality I chose to ride the rollercoaster instead of following my gut instinct.
In the 2 years that we had been apart I had never forgotten what he did to me. It only took 2 months in to our new relationship that he was doing it all over again.
Our relationship was a secret, we were the only people who knew we were together. Now we (and whoever you are reading this) are the only people who know we’ve broken up, again. Did the past 2 months of my life just happen?