Sanity, Apparently, Is Fleeting

Once more it’s the up and down, the crash and bang of my mood smacking into the ceiling and then hurtling down into the basement.  In a matter of hours, minutes sometimes.  Too much emotional reactivity to things that probably don’t really matter, but seem SO important in the moment.

I am telling myself that this all has to do with being sick and isolated and off my game and away from work.  Because, I am NOT going to the hospital again, not now.  Someone, perhaps my therapist or maybe my sister, told me that extended illness could really mess with your mood.  Well, here is living proof.

Like a fool, I have been dredging up these memories of DSB.  You see, he was an ass, but I DO have some good memories of our time together.  And with those memories at the forefront, it’s hard to keep in mind all of the negative.  And it makes me think — where did our love go wrong?  Was it me and all my craziness?  Did I need too much, ask for too much?  Did he love me the most he possibly could and it just wasn’t enough?  Was he just that limited?  But more importantly — I think it was my fault.  It could have been, right?  I could  have made it work if I CHANGED him more.  How ridiculous, right?  Sadness will do that to you, make you think that way.

You see, I’m calling this sadness, and not depression, because the two are entirely different.  I’m still functioning — I just feel really crappy off and on.  I had a very nice evening yesterday with Mom and the Big Dawg.  I even ate some real food — steak and a baked potato.  It doesn’t get more real than that, right?  That should make me HAPPY, right?  It did, for a little while.

And then I got home and it was just me and the pup and I started to think about how excited Rascal would always be when you came home and how DSB was always, always waiting in the office with some trashy TV on to hear how it all went.  There isn’t anyone to tell how it all went when I get home now.  There isn’t anyone to kiss me goodnight or to nag at me to take meds or encourage me to get to bed.  The last voice I hear of the day now is Mom’s, or Dad’s, several hours before I go to bed, and while I know they love me dearly, it’s just not the same.

I got up in the middle of the night last night, and have on several other nights here lately, and was surprised that the light wasn’t on in the office.  Like I expected him to be there.  Why would I expect that or even want that?  I think this must be all  part of the grieving process, that I can’t believe I’m STILL going through.  If I look at it, though, it’s only been a little over two months that he’s been gone.

So is this normal?  Is this grief for DSB and a longing for someone to just be there?  Or is this madness brought on by all the medical problems I’ve had the last six weeks, not including the mental health issues toward the first part of that?  Maybe it’s both.  Whatever it is, I hate it.  Fucking hate it.  Half the time I feel like I’ve got it together and the other half I’m just falling apart.

Advertisements

18 thoughts on “Sanity, Apparently, Is Fleeting

  1. It takes a long time to get past a loss, and breaking up with DSB was, in a lot of ways, a loss for you. It’s okay to grieve. It’s normal, even though it feels crazy. And eventually it gets easier, although in the moment that probably feels a long way off.

    Like

    • It’s just hard for me to see it that way, that DSB and I breaking up was a loss, and that there is grief involved. I’ve never been any good at grieving, and apparently I still am not. I appreciate the reassurance that this is normal, because it certainly doesn’t feel like it. Missing the person who beat you down emotionally and mentally for two years? Hard to see that as normal.

      Like

  2. I read once that when a partner dies, it is harder to go through the grieving process if you had a difficult relationship because you have all the “What ifs” and “If only”s” Allow yourself to grieve, Rose. That doesn’t mean to wallow in self pity, just simply allow yourself to work through the grief at a pace that works for you. I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts

    Liked by 1 person

    • Like I replied to Hope, above, it’s hard for me to conceptualize this as grief. I think I need to start getting better at grieving in a hurry. I can understand the “what if’s” type of thing and that does come into play. I think that DOES make it harder. I think you hit on something there, Bradley.

      Like

  3. Yes, physical illness will definitely throw you off your game and depression is often the result. In the case of heart surgery, depression is almost inevitable, though I mostly dodged the bullet this time, maybe because I was aware of the likelihood. But ANY illness can and often does do it. The isolation alone can cause problems.

    Breaking up, even with a complete dickhead, hurts. My second husband was my personal special dickhead, but it still threw me into the worst depression of my life. Especially because how could a total asshole like him reject ME … what did that say about me? It took a long time to work through it. Not days or weeks, but months. That you bounced out of it so fast is likely because you didn’t really deal with it fully. Now it’s come back and you have to face it.

    Unfortunately, there aren’t any shortcuts to the process. And you don’t have to be crazy to feel like you’re crazy when a relationship — especially a long one — crashes and burns. I’d be more inclined to wonder if you were unaffected.

    Hang in there. It does get better and time helps. Time, and letting yourself feel what you feel. Just don’t call the asshole and invite him back into your life. Anything but that.

    Liked by 1 person

    • No worries. I will not be calling him, texting him, Skyping, sending carrier pigeon — none of it. The whole reason this baffles me so, my “grief reaction” if you will, is that I really want nothing to do with him when it comes down to it. I think I am really just missing companionship and someone to love, and someone to love me back. This whole grief thing — I don’t friggin get it. I’ve never been good at it, have always held it at bay, and it always comes back to bite me later. I am still grieving my grandfather’s death from nearly 10 years ago. Ten years! You’re right, I didn’t deal with this at the time which is why it’s biting me in the butt now. So I guess I need to start doing that, but I’m not sure where to start.

      Like

      • You are mourning the end of something in which you invested a lot of yourself, a lot of hope. What you are feeling is totally normal. Breaking up, even when the person you’re breaking with is a total loser, still hurts. You wonder how you wound up with such a loser. What’s wrong with you that you chose him, let him treat you so badly, yada yada yada. Everyone goes through it. Eventually, you realize there are no answers. It happens. Not just to you, but to a lot of people who certainly should have known better … but love doesn’t work that way.

        Like

  4. Likely ’tis a bit off everything… kinda like those multiple choice where one is unsure of the answer, thus checking the “all of the above” box is a pretty good hedge.

    I like Marilyn’s take on the asshole part… what is wrong with “me” that the asshole wouldn’t fight tooth, claw and nail to keep me.

    Most exquisitely well do I know the feeling of someone loving me to the best of their ability, and it just.not.being.enough. Learned it at my mother’s knee, then had to repeat it a couple of times in relationships before realizing… yes, it is possible to love someone, then learn the other was incapable of loving “enough” backatcha. Makes it even more bittersweet to part. And yes, Virginia, changing another is a futile way to tread water.

    The ability to be alone is something I’ve never mastered. And sometimes wonder if “normal” is the ability to do so. The older I am, the more I think it abnormal. We are descendants of folks who lived in tribes and caves and depended on one another for survival. Our culture/society keeps moving us further and further away from each other, and perhaps the human mind will take another few millennia to absorb that change. In the meantime, we must choose our cave mates wisely. 😉

    You are my sunshine… keep on keepin’ on peaking through those clouds. …XOXO

    Like

    • Usually it isn’t quantity of love that’s at issue. It’s quality. Understanding, empathy. We want people to love us for what WE think is best in us — and forgiven for stuff we we’d be happier without. We need our lovers to “get us.” Including the weird and the wonderful because we are all a mixed bag of good, bad, and ugly. Finding someone who “fits” is a trial and error process and when the magic (finally) works, it seems as often as not the right one was always right there and we need only have turned our head and there he would have been. Watching and waiting.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yeppers… pretty much sums ‘er up. And at end of day, ’tis best to be loved for who one is… not who one “could” or “should” be. Then maintain that focus, even when the other “changes.” Wise words in a nutshell, Mrs. A. Could we all have the wisdom of time, and still be able to draw up the energy of youth that makes for flexible empathy and understanding. Then ignore the little nasty bits that sum up the rest of our totality. 😀

        Like

  5. Boys SUCK. (sorry, I’m grumpy) But honestly, let yourself grieve. And know that no matter how much we want to, we can’t change them – they can change if they want to, but we can’t make them. *hugs*

    Like

    • Some boys suck sometimes, some suck all the time. I’d prefer a fairly non-sucky one on my next go-round. And you’re right, we can’t change them, as much as it would do them good and better humanity (and make our lives easier). When I’m in the “picking out” mode, why can’t I remember that?

      Like

  6. Not that my opinion should matter much to you at all because we are total strangers…but, you remind me a lot of myself. When the going gets tough and someone bows out..we both look inside ourselves and tear ourselves to shreds to find what needs to be fixed so that the person we love will either come back, or so the next person won’t leave. Well I can fast-forward to end of all this unhealthy reflection to tell you this:
    We are who we are. At our best or at our very worst…we deserve to be loved unconditionally. It’s unfortunate that most men are incapable of this in the current season of their life…but that just means that there was nothing wrong with you…it means something is wrong with them. I encourage you to keep your dreams big and heart open.

    Best wishes.

    Like

    • Well, your opinion actually does matter to me, since you stopped and took the time to respond to my ramblings. Everyone’s opinions matter and should be listened to. I appreciate your advice and kind words. You’re so right…we are who we are and do deserve to be loved unconditionally. I need to just knock that right into my head and make it stick somehow.

      Like

  7. Sadness. I know what you mean. Sometimes I miss telling my ex things. Or I’ll see other blog posts that remind me of her. When that happens, it’s like being stabbed in the heart all over again. It was really tough for me to ‘get over’ her (although she was over me in 6 days).

    My docterly advice is get sleep, keep working on your goals. Days like that suck so much. (((hugs)))

    Like

    • Yep, I think the being reminded part is the worst. Especially if it is a particularly strong reminder tied to something very positive. You’re right…days like that DO suck.

      Appreciate the advice, doc! Trying to find that perfect balance with sleep. Appreciate the hugs. ((hugs!))

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s