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I started the week feeling amazing and on top of the world. Then he messaged, saying he’d take something to go to sleep. I couldn’t help but remember the last time. He’s friends had called worried about him trying to find him, the next day he told me he had attempted to take his life. I snapped. I literally felt my mind snap in that moment. The roaring in my ears, the inability to focus on the world around me. He was fine though. But I couldn’t tell my mind that. I’d broken up with him and he had attempted to take his own life. I crumbled. I hated myself more in that moment, that I could be the reason the world doesn’t get to see his smile? Fuck.

Then Sunday he messages me saying he’s taken something to go to sleep. It was his exes birthday and she was with a new man. My heart literally felt like it was a mixture of someone grabbing it and squeezing it with all of their might. Forcing me to feel a dangerous cocktail of emotions. I was worried sick about him, but didn’t want to force myself into a position that was no longer mine. But also, he’d been saying she meant nothing. Clearly not. Watching someone you love so dearly, fall in love with another, is a torture I wouldn’t wish even on my worst enemy. It’s a slow destruction of the mind, taking it’s time to collapse and explode each section of the brain, till you feel empty. It’s taken every part of my knowledge to push myself to be happy for them. After they broke up, him saying it was because of me. He wanted me. I was stupid enough to allow the hope to creep back in. He’d taken the pills on the day of her birthday, and then sent me a bunch of texts. I woke up to them, and tried not to worry, surely he’d be okay. Hours went by and he wasn’t replying. I couldn’t even take my classes, and stared blankly at students as they waited for their questions to be answered. I could only string these painful events together in my mind. Eventually he messaged, he was okay. I tried calling he didn’t answer. I tried again nothing. He didn’t want my help now, all I could think was it was because he was probably sober now. It’s funny being told you are the main person of interest, but feeling like the last person in the pile. I want him all of the time. It’s impossible. He wants me only sometimes. He’s too busy otherwise, he has this on or this person needs him. Meanwhile little old pathetic me, sits and waits for his attention like the sunflowers stand to attention waiting for the sun to shine.

Cue a mental spiral.

I sit there and check if he’s messaged. Nope. I do this over and over. How pathetic I keep telling myself. How fucking sad of me. He’s not thinking of me, clearly. He’s doing him and killing it. I’m just being a gigantic sad sack awaiting his next contact. Nothing. Nothing at all. I woke up Tuesday and was willing to fight at least. By Wednesday morning I didn’t want to get out of bed. My body and mind felt too heavy to move. I took half the day off, built myself back up again and was going well till I spent the day arguing with teenagers, again. By the time I was driving home, all I could think about was the pool of red surrounding me, and when I would time calling the ambulance. The moment my front door shut, I collapsed in a heap and sobbed. Knowing I was too weak to ever go through with it, but too broken to stay and feel these emotions. I through myself into swimming and slowly let the world slip by.

I had made up my mind, I needed to block him. I couldn’t withstand his come and go attempts at communication. The lacklustre times we’ve hung out. I would sit and watch as he fell asleep on my bean bag. He was more than happy to throw money at the situation. But there was no care, or passion in his attempts with me. He’d already gotten me back, why bother right? I could never wrap my head around the fact that I told him to treat me as a friend alone, for him to kiss me goodnight and tell me that he loves me. Each time we spoke he’d call me babe, so easily fitting back into us. Into the version of us where he never tried, or made an effort other than money. I was hoping for the prince charming, the sweet kind man the did these magical things. I accepted he’d be my friend. I was devastated he chose his own option of minimal effort, whilst also getting the mundaneness of our past relationship. One where I watched him hoping for more. One where I watched him with the girl he dated after me, and he treated her like a queen. Was that all I was to him? Something in between his next relationship? Someone he could drop in, get a little fucked up, put in a little effort but get the physical needs of a relationship? Was that all I was to him? There was no excitement, passion or deep love. Just a lazy effortless attempt at love, while he organises his next match. He kept saying wonderful things, but his actions didn’t reflect his words. I was the one that was thinking of him, waiting patiently for this sign that what he said was true. It’s strange, I was happy being friends because I didn’t want to lose him. Once he came back and offered me a taste of us, I was desperate for more. Only to be put back into my place by disappointment.

I blocked him. He called. I answered. We went back and forth, him saying words. Me believing them. Till I remembered his actions. I hung up. He freaked out. It was my fault I didn’t answer correctly to assure him I wasn’t hurting myself. We fought.

He said he got me flowers, and regretted doing so. I’m not even worth his half arsed attempts that I don’t even know if it’s true.

I’m in love with a man whose words I can’t trust and actions leave me debilitated.

I’ve climbed this mountain so many times that I already feel a fraud for trying to turn hope into reality.

I’ve always felt this ‘imposter’-mentality. Like I know that I’m this shitty person, and I’m so scared of everyone finding out. I would sit and think about the people I admired most, and why I admired them. Slowly allowing myself the opportunities to embrace qualities I didn’t think I could even attempt at becoming. Slowly the transformation occurred. Who I am today, to who I was 10 years ago, is an astounding feat when I actually reflect. It’s taken me a long fucking time to get to this point. But I’m starting to feel strong, embracing my sensitivities and fragile nature to begin to love them even. I feel a lot, and as much as that can get intense, it also means I feel all emotions A LOT. Love, sex, gratitude, peacefulness, happiness, excitement, awe, appreciation, I feel every emotion intensely. I fucking love that now. Because when I am on top of the world, it makes me realise I can work and even achieve to become the person who can handle it. All of the emotions, good, bad and ugly. Seeing the beauty in the world, is worth it. Feeling love! Heart break felt like my world was ending and I couldn’t cope with the crushing pain, but love… Feeling love, being in love and giving love, is singularly the most glorifying experience any one who is blessed to experience it, will stagger towards it, time and time again. It’s the all consuming process of whole heartedly caring about another human, more than you ever could imagine. The glow that turns to an all over hum, when you see them or hear their voice. It’s an incredible experience to behold. But if love that didn’t work out for valid reasons, than what is it like to find your right love? The one who is your best friend, pushes you to be your ultimate you. The one you can capture the moments, and release the pain from the other ones. The ideal of THAT love has me forgetting the wounds from past failed attempts.

But I’ve realised something else. I also don’t know what it’s like to be in love with me. I don’t know how amazing or frustrating that I am. I’ve hated myself, I’ve pitied myself, I’ve disliked myself, recently though I’ve been liking me a little more. I want to fall in love with me. I want to take myself out and do the things I love. I want to cook wholesome foods and cherish my body. I want to encourage myself to be the best version of me that I can be. I want to be my greatest cheerleader and my most loving carer. I want to be the one who makes me laugh, takes care of me when I’m down and cherish me every chance I get. I want the chance to know what it’s like to make me feel better when I’ve crashed, or how to lift my spirits when I feel lost to the world. I want to be the one that pushes me through another day to realise the next will be far more amazing than today’s. I’ve begun doing little things, and the intensity of how I feel floods me with gratitude and appreciation with where I am right now in life. I’ve got my own place, a place that I love coming home to, friends that I can’t wait to see, relationship with my parents, killing it at work and absolutely loving my study in my masters. I’m sorting myself out, and ensuring I take care of my health. All the things I would nag others to do, I’m doing it for myself and making sure that I’ve been taking time for me.

I’ve fallen down sometimes, had slip ups and struggled a lot. But I haven’t given up and kept up the work. Where I am today and have been lately, has been getting better in a steady (uneven) pace. I look around myself though and I can’t help feel the intensity of emotion piling into my chest, moving all over my skin and covering my into being; immense gratitude and pride. I’m in my apartment, blasting music, in a place that feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I’ve just spent the weekend seeing old and new friends, eating incredible food, drinking wine and laughing whole-heartedly. Then to have the privilege today to go to the coast, walk around in the sunshine at the markets, see amazing art work, incredible views of the landscape then finally slowly chipping away at my work while in my sanctuary? How is this my life? I know one day I want to be in love, I want to love someone unconditionally and cherish every moment. Right now however, I want to be with me and love me. Enjoy this time in my life where I get to put me first. Enjoy falling in love with myself.

He walked in and immediately the room lit up. Everyone had a smile on their face and greeted him enthusiastically, all wanting to be acknowledged by him. I laid back further on the couch, trying to make myself smaller. I remembered the last time I met him, he had thought I was annoying and had treated me so. A cheer went around as he began handing out a sports drink to everyone on the balcony. I kept my eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact for fear he’d think I was trying to scab one off of him. A strong caramel hand went into my view handing me the drink. I looked up at him and caught his eye to say thank-you. He looked fresh and well rested, which considering it was 9am in the morning from a long night of partying, was impressive. I didn’t want to think about the mess I resembled. They had had a big night out, drinking, taking whatever was handed to them and losing themselves in the music and each others company. As the group split up, I laid on the couch enjoying the after glow come down that was beginning to hit her. I knew I looked rough, but it was this moment, the moment I got to sit and reflect on the night I enjoyed so much. Thinking of the crazy, free and wild adventures. No need for stress or any kind of control. Just a complete splurge into the indulgence of youth and losing ones inhibitions. I slowly let my awareness of the room fill my mind, and noticed the strange groups forming in each area of the apartment. It looked like chaos. There was items smashed, a broken TV, plants all over the place and alcohol, everywhere. The bedroom had a weird assortment of people dating and their exes, all vying for each others attention. The smaller lounge room, had some people sleeping and others smoking weed. Outside had a small group trying to collect their minds from the previous night, having a cigarette in silence. Finally there he was, at the kitchen. Pouring more drinks and engaging the people around him in laughter. He looked up then and saw me looking at him, he asked if I wanted a drink and to have another upper. ‘Fuck it’ I thought, and said ‘yes thank-you’.

It had been 6 months since I had ended my 5 year relationship with someone I had thought I was going to imprison myself with marriage. The last 6 months had been a whirlwind of fitness, friends, working harder than ever and partying. Hard. I had completely let go and just gone for it. I was feeling freer and more confident than ever. I didn’t have to follow a rule book, listen to someone’s whims, or please anyone but myself. It had been glorious. I lived with friends, did as I please and fuck, did I love my life.

He began talking to me, and I couldn’t help feeling shy. That whole night I had acted with such confidence, talking to whom ever I pleased. For some reason this witty man was making me blush and made me want to check that my hair was in the right place. Soon the party began dying down. Sunday was well and truly underway and people had begun thinking about work the next day. He wasn’t though. He invited more people back to his, before turning to me and asking if I wanted to come with them. I looked at my friends,

they said ‘fuck it, go, have fun’.

I went with a mutual friend. Once we got to his, we went to the bathroom as the boys went to find some sport to watch. We searched the bathroom, trying to learn more about this man. His place had paint, he spoke with intelligence, and there was something about how his eyes that just lingered for a second longer than they should. The way his face would catch his smile, and hook around the side, giving a lop sided clever grin. We went back down to the lounge room where they were gathered watching two people fight, he looked at me and told me to choose who would win. I sat on the arm of the chair he was sitting on, pretending to watch the fight, but stealing as many looks as I could at him. I chose, I won. He pulled me into the large armchair he was sitting in. Wrapped his arms around me, then proceeded to exclaim how perfectly I fit. He told me and the entire room, that I was the perfect fit for him and his arms.

Nearly two years later, I wish he’d been right.

I have this yearning desire that sits within me. As if I’m capable of more that I’m doing.

I have this vision that sits in my minds eye. Of me working towards something bigger than I understand.

It’s crazy. Thinking these things and the juxtaposition of my fears. Two different realms of feelings and imaginations that home themselves in the same fragile cocoon. It’s a near constant battle of what I feel I am, to what I feel I could be. Everyone must feel this, because I think that’s what people are describing when they say they are struggling.

They are struggling the opposing sides of their personality that is waring for control. I never know which side of mine will win. I have the sad, pathetic, victim mentality that is flakey and unreliable, to the woman that is powerful and has a heart as big as the world. I know which side I want to be, but it’s not always the side that wins.

Sometimes my sad side wins. The weaker one. The one that will destroy my own self image to ensure I am not arrogant, or deceiving like my siblings. It’s like anytime I get close to their ideology, I have a self-destruct button. It implodes my self-esteem and close relationships. Forcing me to start over and re-discover myself and friends. Ignoring the potential in the woman I am striving to become.

I had a friend ask my once “what’s different this time, why should we believe this time’s different?”

I honestly don’t know.

This time is like the last, only minor improvements.

But I know that I’m not willing to give up yet. Not yet. I know I’m privileged to have fight left in me, I’ll cherish that till they day I don’t.

I don’t know how else to do it.

Once small step at a time, with sometimes five steps going backwards.

But I know I’m better than I was two years ago.

And that’s all I can hope for

I’m meant to be over him. I’m meant to never want to see him again. I’m meant to be done.

He came back and I went running back to him. He didn’t even have to try. I told myself I was going there to take charge, but who am I kidding? I am never in charge, when it comes to him.

I went back and all I could do is compare myself to the freaking goddess he was with before me. All I can see is her doing everything better than I ever could. I feel unworthy of his time. After all that happened, I just feel weak when I’m around him. I feel like a fool who is unable to stand up for what I want. Because when I’m with him, all I want is to make him happy. All I can think about is what can make his day? I turn into a submissive servant, ready to take his order. I kept telling myself this time I was in control. I lied to myself. Again. I lose myself completely in that man.

I honestly think to myself that I don’t matter. How can I when I’m just the frumpy, quiet, moody and sad girl that can’t handle the world. I need him to do it for me. I need him to save me.

He doesn’t though. Why should he? He needs to save himself and he’s been doing so well at it.

I can’t get out of my head that I’m not good enough. There’s probably some girl messaging him right now, and she’ll wow him away. Because how could he be wow’d by me?

I can’t keep friends, my family barely talk to me. I implode the relationships around me.

I watched his birthday, how many people adore and love him. Myself included. Even after everything that’s happened, all the thing’s he’s done.

The pathetic side of me compared it to my own birthday. The drought of love. I reminded my parents, it was my birthday. They said they didn’t forget, they were just busy. I barely heard from anyone. My best friend didn’t make any kind of fuss. I felt so unimportant on that day, like I didn’t matter. I cried and cried and cried. Because that’s the reality, the truth of the situation. I’m not good enough. My flaws are too much for me to keep people close. For them to remember me.

I feel so silly thinking these things. Feeling this lurching desperation for love and acceptance.

I’m too sad, needy, inconsistent, flakey with a large dose of victim mentality for people to want me around.

That’s why I want to be alone. Because I’m okay with me. I’m not going to leave or abandon me. I appreciate me. If I keep to myself I can’t let anyone else down or see them walk away. I don’t have to sit there and question who I am.

Because I’m sick of creating lists, reading books and trying to find ways to be better.

Only to keep letting them all down.

I was and am a fool.

I thought I meant something to him. I listened to his words, his promises and thought it was an honest statement of love. How wrong I was.

He doesn’t care. He never did. I was a comfort, not an individual to him.

He’s found his love, his sunshine and sweetness.

I’m committing emotional cutting every time I look at his photos. See how much happier he is now. Seeing what he looks like, actually in love.

I was just the one holding him back. I wanted it to work. I wanted to be with him. I hated our toxic dependency. I ended it. He found someone immediately.

I don’t want him back. I can’t trust his words. I truly want to want him happiness.

It just fucking hurts seeing him move on so quickly, so easily. Proving I was nothing. Just as I had always feared.

I wonder if he never moved on. I wonder if we would have found our way back to each other. I wonder if I could have still had the company of someone I called my best friend. But that’s just cruel and fucked up to think though. He never loved me like that. He’s found his happiness now and it isn’t me.

He’s found happiness. It doesn’t matter on the timing because no-one can control that.

I don’t matter to him now. It’s none of my business.

I wish it was true though, that he loved me as deeply as what he said. I think that’s what hurts the most, knowing it was all an exaggeration. It was a lie.

I knew it couldn’t be true.

But fuck.

I miss him.

There was a moment when I went swimming in the ocean. We were snorkelling in one of the most gorgeous places on Earth. One by one I watched my friends return from a section of the ocean in fear. Each spoke brave words, then when they went to where the girls had pointed, all returned terrified of what they saw. I swam with caution, thinking it couldn’t have been that bad. Replicating the same experience I had just watched. I swam to the edge of the coral, and saw the deep dark opening of the ocean. A depth I could never comprehend. I tentatively swam out. Each stroke of my arm getting further forward, was another layer of fear that wound its way deeper into my mind. I was terrified and I was barely out in the open. The depth, the expanse and complete and utter blankness of what I was experiencing was engulfing me in fear.

The same can be said for the feeling of loneliness. An entrapment of fear that we all feel immune to.

Till we experience the expanse of solitude.

It’s encompassing in it’s company. Completely debilitating. As much as I want to deny it, the fear of loneliness has me in its grip. I’m not afraid of being alone. Because I’ve felt this fear in both of my failed relationships. The depth of the feeling, through to my core, floors me each time. It’s the fear of not truly connecting with a person. To never find the home base. That person that suddenly the world makes sense for. I find myself looking at this expanse, this giant, great, big, mass of isolation. I’m trying to get comfortable staring right at it. Staying within its company, and pushing myself to swim all the way out to the depth of loneliness. Lay out, and be completely comfortable with the solitude of my company.

Connection with another doesn’t matter.

Connection with myself is the only solution.

I’m terrified as all hell. Time’s finally caught up. It’s time that I put my words into action. Become the single independent human that values compassion, kindness, freedom, fairness and curiosity. I can see who I want to be. The silhouette that teases me into an excitement for the future. I don’t have anything or anyone holding me back.

It’s time to give to others like I’ve always wanted to. Give my time, money and compassion to those in need. Finally doing my due diligence for the society I live in. I’m ashamed I haven’t earlier and wear the guilt with me daily.

I will treat everyone with kindness, even those that have caused me harm. I know I can do this. The person I put my trust in, my best friend; destroyed my ignorant dumb hope I held for us. I’m thankful of that now, it was time I stopped acting like a teenager. Ignoring hard truths to avoid hurting oneself, inevitably always making it worse. He hurt me in ways I didn’t think him capable of. For all the tears and pain I felt, I didn’t wish him harm. Only happiness and peace. I truly hope he finds the person that will guide him to a lighter path with the complete warmth of love. It hurts at times, but that is grief. It is my individual singular pain, one that I do not want to share or wish onto someone else. I’d rather hope for happiness, I know that is what is needed in my own, his and the worlds existence. Kindness is a beautiful thing, but often beauty is birthed through pain.

It is a valuable luxury, freedom, that I am eternally grateful for. I am not naïve to the fact that had I been born in another era, I would not be able to express my feelings, knowledge or even desires. I would be at the mercy to most likely poverty and the will of a man. I could not have been educated, nor enjoy the freedom of choosing my identity. I am able to experience the many joys of the world because of the freedom afforded entirely to my circumstance. This is a privilege that I want to give the utmost respect to. Many humans in history, and presently have and would do incredible things to gain it.

It is with caution I say fairness. I mean the term as an equitable outcome. One that is everyone’s duty to observe and react accordingly to. This is also one of my greatest short falls. If I believe a situation unfair, I’ll begin to grow to resent the situation, experience or person. My short fall is not communicating this, and instead becoming frustrated. I’ve screwed myself over many times with handling situations poorly. I’m learning and can only continue to do so. Fairness may not be in everyone’s value list, but they still deserve the treatment.

Curiosity is the most exciting value in my little list. The ability to ask questions and learn of the world around us, is one of the greatest delights. There are so many different things to ask questions about, so many different categories, sub categories, mysteries and everything else that lies in between. The world is amazing. I take pleasure in learning about it.

It’s time I volunteer to the community I live. Complete the certificates and post graduate education I’ve been meaning to do. It’s time I shape up to the woman I have always wanted to be. I can’t shake the sadness, or lack of motivation. I can only understand that it’s going to be present and to observe it in quiet respect. I don’t wish to forget that experiencing suffering allows one to feel gratitude for the wonderful things in this life.

I thought he’d be the happy ending I was searching for. I thought he’d be the light at the end of the tunnel. I really hoped he’d be the smile I’d have in my day.

But I knew this needed to come from me and I still convinced myself of the delusions. I didn’t expect that he was in on the convincing too. He took my actions, studied and analysed them. It became part of our daily routine to examine the words, facial reactions and behaviours that I exhibited to ensure he knew his next move. I became a science experiment. He took my words and weaved a web around me, using the vulnerabilities against me to eventually control me. An ornament that would sit and wait for his attention. I held that belief too for awhile. I couldn’t do something without him. I couldn’t eat without him. I wasn’t able to plan my weekend without him. I couldn’t be me, without him. I needed him in my day, and life. He’s smile became the energy in my day, his laugh became my bread and butter. His touch was the hydration my body thirsted for.

I needed him.

Till I didn’t.

I pulled myself away from him. I slowly detached from the co-dependency of our relationship. I tip toed away, afraid of what I was leaving behind. He slowly began lifting the mask of deception though, and allowed me a glance at the truth he was hiding. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t ignorant to the control he was placing over me, like I had naively convinced myself. He knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing. HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING. He actively set out to control and conjure a life that he desired whilst ignoring my needs, wants and eventually identity.

And I let him do it.

I let another fucking person do this shit again. Control. Controlling me.

I had sat there complicit in his determined efforts.

I got out before the process cemented a new identity.

I took my control back.

Today was another of those days.

The day’s I dread.

I woke up wishing with all my might not be here.

I can’t even tell what is up or down anymore. I don’t know what I’m feeling or why I’m feeling it. I can feel the pressure on my chest, pushing harder and harder. I can feel my stomach in knots and pains.

I don’t want to whinge, again.

I don’t want to whine, again.

I don’t want to be a fucking mess, again.

I just want to be me, but I have no fucking idea what that is anymore.

Am I just a piece of shit? I keep doing shitty things. I am completely self-centred. That in my eyes, makes me a bad person. Then I cry about it and someone tells me I’m a good person. How fucked up is that?

What kind of fucking obnoxious asshole does that?

So instead I want to leave. To be free of the concerns of how to act and what to say. Free of the constant social and personal judgement that consumes me. Free of the spiral my mind finds it in. Free of the guilt.

Free of it all.