… was that really me?

Well it’s early in the morning and I’m awake.  I have to start getting ready for work in just over an hour and it’s SO cold.  But I’m tucked up in bed, wrapped in my dressing gown and watching the news.  I’m a creature of habit if nothing else.

Firstly I want to say that this isn’t some pass/agg way of ‘talking indirectly’ to him.  He’s blocked all over the place and I don’t think he even knew I had this blog so this is my way of ‘talking through’ my current state of mind … just to clear that up!

I finally read back that last post, over 2 months later, and it seems like a different person. I understand now why the ‘2 months non-contact rule’ exists.  Because, after 2 months, you don’t want to hear from them again!  I’m not going to bitch and moan because there’s no need to any more.  I’m pissed that he still hasn’t bothered to change his address with his bank so I’m STILL having to fight the fact that the credit rating on this flat is for shit!  But … other than that … my life is good.  And I’m not just saying that.

After a break-up with someone you thought you knew and loved, you experience intense grief.  I realised that a lot of that was to do with me questioning myself.  Questioning why I allowed that to happen for so long.  Why I allowed the slow, inexorable decline of my self-esteem and my personality to happen.  I don’t recognise that woman any more.  That weak, pathetic creature who would do anything to hold onto someone who was obviously no longer interested.

I posted this on my Facebook before I went to Rome:

“I’ve realised that the past few days I’ve not even thought about him, not in any sort of ‘I miss him’ way. I’ve even called him by his name and not called him ‘the shit’.
When he’s popped up as a ‘recommended friend’ there’s no jump in my heart, no feeling of sickness, no tears rising up in my eyes. Instead there is a gentle acceptance that he is no longer in my life and my life is so much better for it.
I’m not saying that this will definitely be the way … Yes I will occasionally have moments when my heart pounds a little harder and my eyes tear up when I think of him. But … In the same way that ‘I’ learned how not to behave in a relationship from my life with M, I now know what I will not accept in my life from a partner thanks to B.
I’ve used this time to grow and learn a lot about myself. Some has been hard, some has been exciting and some has been just an awakening of what I already knew.
So thank you … You all know who you are. My family and friends (such interchangeable words) who have seen me through all of this.
I love you all xxxxxxxxx”

I’m embarrassed about who I was as I was going through the break-up.  I’m embarrassed about the discussions I had with people where I excused his behaviour, where I went a little bit ‘psycho ex’ (although, to be fair, compared to what people suggested I did I think I behaved pretty decently all things considered!) where I cried and cried.  Just even typing this makes me embarrassed.  But love does weird things to people and it can never be said that I didn’t love with all my heart.

I wear my heart on my sleeve – this has, to be honest, had a detrimental effect on me as people who aren’t as honest as they purport to be will abuse my trust. I can’t change who I am to such a degree that I am untrue to myself but I am starting to protect myself more.

I’m enjoying life more than I have done for a couple of years. Friends and colleagues tell me how well I look, I guess the anxiety is gone from my face. I like the fact that despite the weightloss being quite dramatic (I AM getting tired of comments congratulating me on eating at work- people seemed to think this was all deliberate – believe me I love food – just I didn’t want to eat much!) I know I look healthier. I look like me again!

Looking back over posts from the past I realise that I was very angry for a long time. That manifested itself in my online spats when I should have just left them alone. I don’t want to psychoanalyse myself too much (too late) but I believe that these were substitutes for the anger I felt about my home life. I couldn’t express that so, as many do, I took it out on others. I can only apologise for that (although some really did deserve it!).

But I’m not embarrassed to say that the majority of the time I behaved in a respectful and mature way.  I tried to understand the other side of the story, I tried to see his point of view and I not to be angry.  Because I know how debilitating anger is.

This has helped me because now I am indifferent.  And that’s such a better position to be in.  I can no longer feel anything for him.  I have no good memories of our time together, though I’m sure they will return and I will look back fondly on some of the times.

The new me has emerged and in fact emerged quite a few weeks ago.  I will no longer define myself as someone who’s just ‘gone through a break up’ … fuck that.  I’m back back back! ha ha …

Even looking to the left of this post makes me embarrassed that I read a bloody ‘self-help’ book … arghhhhhhhhhhhhh … wtf? Honestly, I don’t recognise that woman.  She wasn’t me, I was hijacked!

… enough …

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