As promised: Hello, step behind the curtain.
I’ve been psyching up to write this for a fair bit here and it may end up saying, well, nothing.
May kicked my ass because of work.
June? I kicked my own ass.
(long post)
Longtime followers will know me to have once tagged posts “Sherlock bunny rambles.” There used to be frequent references to someone named Watson. That stopped in 2016. That’s when I started tagging breakup/rising above shit with “pointed.”
Only, that wasn’t me actually dealing with anything. I thought I was. I definitely thought I was. But, no. I would then go on to throw myself into a couple more relationships until at some point, I realized my self-worth had dried up completely. And that was a turning point. But it still wasn’t me dealing with things.
I’ve gone silent and let the queue do the posting periodically for the past year, maybe year and a half. Part of that comes from being genuinely busy and tumblr being a time sink. But I would be lying to you if I said it wasn’t because I’ve needed time to lick my wounds. And yet? That still wasn’t me dealing with it.
It’s only in the past month that my life has been sufficiently at peace, with a job both sufficiently stable and with good days off, for me to start examining what I’ve been running from for two years, and for three years before it.
I’ve been in therapy awhile, you guys. As an aside: if your first therapist doesn’t turn out to be a good fit? Don’t write off the entire profession. I did not see professional talky help from fall 2015 until fall 2017. This was because my trust in the person I had seen for counseling was irreparably damaged by something that happened early in 2016. But, and this is important, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again. For your own sake, when you’ve healed enough from whatever caused the fracture: please try again.
I’m digressing. I know it.
So, I’ve been in therapy awhile. And been stable. So it’s the perfect time to actually deal with having been in a corrosive relationship that taints every moment of college. Because—it’s affecting too much. Too many pieces are traumatic. And. My memories of college. They’re. They’re fuzzy in so many places.
I have clear memories predating my brother. We are only three years apart. I hope you can see why being hazy about events that happened at most six years ago is completely horrifying.
So, therapy. I’m going every two weeks. I’m telling more people more specifics of what happened. It’s hurting less each time. I’m crying less each time.
What it is doing is draining me. Those dark circles are there no matter the sleep I get. I’m losing the energy to do much of anything after work. Which hurts, so much. I want to write more. I want to do more. I have exciting plans for a public-facing blog project that this post was going to tell you guys about, but this past week has made me realize that may have to wait until summer ends to launch. (I’m still excited for it, though, which I’m going to interpret as a good sign.)
My heart hurts often. The global landscape is not helping.
I’m not telling you this out of an expectation you’ll know how to help. I wouldn’t know what to do, lmao. But many of you have been here for most of that time. You would have seen me through all of this. And, well, part of how I’m ever going to heal is if I talk about it more. So here I am. Talking about it more. (A little more. I can’t really do details before or during work or I will burn out my energy/spoons/sanity points for the day.)
I’m glad you’re all still here. I’m probably going to be here more often in the EST evenings, too, because it doesn’t take that many sanity points to browse tumblr. And I’ve missed being here with you all.
And... don’t worry too much? I believe firmly I will be making it through this relatively fine. The only way is through. Gotta clean the festered wounds so they can heal and even though it hurts like hell—and oh does it—this will be a memory in due time. I am determined.
