Let me begin by saying how incredibly unhappy I am today. Fuck today.
I know I’ve made mistakes. I’m not proud. But I’m sorry. And I’m sad. And I’m…I’m.
I’m doing better.
I made the right decision initially and I know this. I just don’t know how Mark has closed himself completely and totally. I can’t handle it.
Last Monday I went to my 2nd appointment with the therapist and I left feeling strong. KNOWING I have been unhappy and not taking care of my needs. I emailed Mark and I told him I wasn’t going to fight him anymore. I had enough. I just wanted, well I wanted Mark to want to try one last desperate shot, despite everything I had said when breaking it off. And he has been completely and utterly stoic and walled up ever since. (Almost a month.) And I can’t wrap my head around this but after the therapist, I realized I’m not supposed to wrap my head around this…this, us, we, Mark is not what I want or need right now. And I’m sad and upset and angry and terrified and I love him so, but.
Yeah. So the co-existing thing didn’t go so well. The first week I gave all the space I could without trying to “talk” about “anything” and then it turned out none of his normal, kind actions meant anything.
I spent most of that weekend and early 2nd week in my bedroom sick to my stomach and walled up in the dark, LOTS OF SLEEPING. And then I made it to the therapist who recommended immediately that I go on Zoloft, of course. HELLO ANXIETY AND BIG D DEPRESSION. Like I didn’t know that was coming. I knew all this was coming, which is why I needed to clear my path so I could work on myself and feel better.
And then last week I realized I did the right thing. And Wednesday when I came home from working all day and then attending the annual meeting for the Co-op, Mark was on the phone with someone about an apartment. And I started to talk to him telling him this all felt *weird* like I was coming home from work and everything should just be normal. This conversation went nowhere…fast. And Mark ended up stating that since I’m the one who thinks in Black/White he feels that what we’re doing is right. Period. At this point I lost it. HE SEEMS so stoic. Not teary. Not sorry. Not regretful. Not loving. Not compassionate. Just. There.
It tears me apart. Did I mean nothing? How can he not share any of his feelings? How can he say nothing to me? How can he not act sad? Ugh.
I went in the bedroom and I completely lost it…and then about 10 minutes later. I decided I wasn’t going to cry anymore. I got out of bed, emailed Rachel and told her that I would like to stay with her and asked if she could pick me up from work the next day. That was last week. I told Mark I was not going to be home through the next week and that I no longer would be using the truck. (Our truck, we’ve split nearly everything down the middle since he bought it from his parents.) I’ve not seen Mark since.
And yesterday, THANK GOD, I had my weekly therapist appointment where I hardly scratched the surface of FEELING anything, but told a lot of stories…from the past, from the present, mostly from the past. And I left feeling indifferent. I know it’s going to get hard, but right now, I felt indifferent. Of course last night? My dreams led me down a different messed up path. Dear God the dreams! Ugh. I woke up and turned on the light and just started writing them all down. Writing everything I could. Of course I can’t write nearly fast enough, but I needed to clear my head. At about 4:30 I tried to go back to sleep…I found that when I pushed personal things out of my mind, the next thing that instantly filled its place was WORK. And all the to-do lists of things I need/want to do. WORK? Really? By default.
I have a LONG way to go.
And today? Today was hard because Mark and I had to email about a few things. Bills, packing, changing utilities etc.
I feel fucking awful.