You know what? I’m kind of done blogging for awhile, possibly done here forever. I don’t know for how long, and I may change my mind in 72 hours or something (I think we are always free to change our minds about everything and anything), but I don’t really know who I’m writing to or why. Or what my point really is, even. I’m in an incredibly bad place, existentially, right now, sweet Reader/s. Like I thought January was bad. Oh, if you could have seen me in January (well, if you read stuff here, you probably did). I thought that this summer the sun would warm and clear everything up – that things wouldn’t necessarily be great, but they’d be looking up and just a lot better. That I’d finally start to reset and get on with my life. Nope.
Everybody tells me: it’s okay to take a break, breaks from the Internet are good things. I’ve been given advice like delete all your social media apps, or try meditating, or give yourself a time quota. The problem is, I’m on social media SO much, and I have people on social media I care about – I want to see how they’re doing. But it also gives me angst about my own life. And it’s so hit-or-miss…some days I get a lot of interaction with friends and acquaintances and I love the entire world, and them, so much. Some days I put things out there and I get crickets, and I wonder: WTF, why do I even do this.
I was recently told I am in my head so much, I overanalyze so much, that I forget there are a lot of other things that aren’t connected to me, that aren’t about me, but that the circumstances surrounding them happen to bounce off of me. I agree this is one of my flaws. I recognize and understand it’s not all connected to me…but I so often feel like it is. And when my gut instinct tells me something’s suddenly OFF about someone or a situation, I believe it. But I also want to understand it which is why I start analyzing. Does that make sense?
And this bigger issue of mine bleeds over into what I do online. Like, some days I come here and write something and have a lot of readers for no apparent reason, for blog entries I think no one is ever going to be interested in reading…and some days I get zero hits after I’ve written a blog entry I think a lot of people would be interested in reading. This is just a thing that happens, it means absolutely nothing, I know in my brain. It has nothing to do with me. But I get depressed about it…it’s hard to explain. Kind of like: nobody cares? Maybe? When in my head I know this is just a ridiculous way to feel – I’ve got lots and lots of people around me who care a lot. It’s this up and down shit I’m struggling with. I am up and down in my own life, and I’m just constantly heartbroken. I do have plans to explore medicine/s that may help with this, but you guys know what? I think I’m really just heartbroken. Where I am at right now in Life, my heart is constantly swinging between feeling enormous, happy love…and then childish, selfish insecurity. And it is broken.
I went back through my old blog and read lots and lots of entries, including entries from a time I was still living with C, before we were seriously talking separation. I did this because I keep feeling like I’ve changed so much over the last year. I have changed. But yet I really haven’t – the core of me is still there. I still believe in kindness, that being kind is the most important thing of all. I still believe in love. I can be sarcastically irreverent, to this day. I have a indignant temper on me – it flared on the old blog, it’s flared on this one, and if/when I come back it’ll flare again. So I went back and re-read a lot. The things I wrote about on my old blog are exactly the kinds of things I’m writing about now…not a whole lot has changed. I was heartbroken then. I could be childish and selfish and insecure a year ago, too. I had a lot of overblown opinions and not much data to back them up. I flung myself between highs and lows a year ago. I was a mess of a mess, making mistakes and dumb choices a whole year ago. Nothing much has changed, really. Except that I’m existing fully now and accepting with absolute knowledge that my heart is broken.
What I’m saying is: I am not so much a mess as I am a person who desperately wants to give and receive love, but doesn’t know if she knows how to do it properly. I will share with you that I think C always loved me more. I loved and still love C as big and as hard as I can, but I think my love lacks focus and commitment. I don’t think I was ever really what C needed, and I am heartbroken because I know he doesn’t really want to get a divorce. But I think it’s healthier and better for both of us, and for M, in the long run. Even if things are now going to be harder financially…sometimes love can’t fix it, and money always makes things easier, but it doesn’t necessarily make you happier. Does that also make sense?
One big thing I’m struggling with is what happened to me from October-May, when I finally had it out with the man who bullied and stalked me online. I hate to bring this person up again, but I’m going to, for reflection purposes only. When he and I were “friends,” he stroked my ego – I was love bombed, continually and constantly. He told me what a gifted writer I was, he adored me, I was amazing. Even when I was receiving the unwanted emails, he’d fly between continuing to do that…and then tearing me down, telling me the meanest things about me, calling me the most hateful names. When he stopped with directly contacting me to do this, he started doing it on his Twitter page. His Twitter page has over 1,000 followers. How many people visited my Twitter page, this blog, and agreed with him? I know there were people who visited and disagreed because I’ve actually become friendly with at least two of them. But how many agreed? You know what I think about when I sit down to write here, or anywhere else? The mean things he said about me. The hateful names he called me. Because there’s a part of me that believes what he said to me and about me. There’s a part of me that agrees with him.
Was also recently told I’m a damaged woman. I always get a little offended when someone who’s not a trained therapist makes decisions about who or what I am. But no. I suppose that person was correct. I am damaged goods. Sometimes we’re damaged by strangers, sometimes by people who claim to adore us. I was not okay a year ago. And now I am even more not okay, because an unstable person got under my skin, and his mean words are in my head and I can’t figure out how to get them out. I have been trying since, oh, January, to get them out of my head. I have been struggling for months and months and months to forget he exists, forget we ever interacted, and just you know. FORGET. But his hidden agenda/s and his word-poison have stuck with me, while all the nice things he said a year ago before excrement hit the fan…those are all gone. I mean, I remember them, but they don’t carry the weight that the mean stuff does. We remember the hurtful stuff more sometimes. I am very, very damaged. And maybe if I just kind of disappear for awhile…at least from the more public places I’ve been active, I’ll be able to repair some of it. I’ll stop connecting things that don’t actually connect, I’ll get out of my head more, I’ll be more present for my tribe. Because I’ve not been as present as I could be, as I should be, for my tribe.
It’s the hardest part about all of this – I mean, when I moved here a year ago, I thought I was going to have a hard time with letting go of C. I walked out of that house heartbroken and sad, but with hope for the future and a determination to have a good divorce and a healthy co-parenting situation and to pull myself together. I was ready to let go, start writing seriously, and just…figure me out. I did NOT anticipate having to let go of additional things and people. I was not ready for that. I did not anticipate being emotionally and verbally abused in ways that would leave me struggling with more insecurity than I ever have. And I’ve written sporadically, and without enthusiasm. And I am heartbroken. And damaged.
Which is why you get so much angst on this place now. I think the thing I noticed the most about my old blog was that even though I was swinging wide occasionally, I’d always come back. I’d always find my inner flippant person, my irreverent girl, who just shared where she was at emotionally in a really, isn’t-this-just-some-shit-y’all kind of way. Where IS that person?? I know she is still in here, somewhere. I occasionally will pound out an entry here or I’ll spew out some tweets or a Facebook status update and that old Amy peeks through. I’ve seen her. And then something happens and I fuck it up. I end up overthinking something and it all goes to hell. Or I find myself actually listening to the mean words of an unhappy person swirling in my brain – you’re so self-centered, Amy…a narcissist…such a user…you’re a wicked witch…you don’t deserve love. Intellectually, I get these are lies. Emotionally, because I have always struggled my entire life with self-doubt and insecurity, I kind of agree with his definition of me. I can be a shitty person sometimes.
There are people in my life, people I’ve known a really long time and some I’ve just gotten to know over the last year, who I just think the world of. I wish I could do something to repay these people for how much they’ve supported me and stuck by me. Some of them I tried to run away from, and they didn’t chase me – they just let me figure me out and come back. Some of them got to see me at my ugliest, what my most insecure and angriest self looks like, and they never judged me. I’ve gone to lunch with these people, been taken on vacations with these people, been sent encouraging emails and texts and private and public messages on social media, I’ve been literally held and wrapped in some of these people’s arms. When it gets really bad, I go back and re-read the encouraging words, or where someone says in a direct or indirect way: “You are loved,” because I can’t tell you how much that often brings me back from the brink.
That sounds very dramatic, I know. But on my end, it is very very real. Since last Fall at least, this is the direction my life has gone. Last summer was angry playtime. Since Autumn, I’ve been in The Reckoning.
I have people who have been willing to hold my hand through this bonfire of the vanities I’ve been in, and this is while some of them are battling raging forest fires of their own. The patience and love they’ve shown me is overwhelming sometimes. I keep feeling like I need to get the hell over this, like what the hell is WRONG with me? Why can’t I move on. Yet I do recognize – and if you are one of these people, I hope you recognize that I’m writing about you (I can list names, if you’d like…lemme know). I am beyond blessed that you are in my life, I am grateful for you, I thank the Universe for you all the time. My hope is that one day I’ll be able to be there for you in the way you’ve been here for me.
So. Wrote a political entry and now I’m gonna take a break. I may actually just go back to the blogspot blog if/when I come back. I don’t know. I feel like there needs to be a change again. I’ve started working out, pretty much every day. To try to end this on a positive note…I sat down one day and said: What can I control…which aspect of my life can I really control? And I went: working out and food. So far, so good. Have lost 3 lbs. Only 42 more to go.
And, last, one of my other favorite Robert Frost poems:
I feel like that’s another good way to end this. For now.