I just got back from a weekend with college friends to celebrate my best friend getting married this summer. After the initial realization that, “Oh fuck, there are mostly happily married moms here,” it was great to be with old friends. For an entire dinner, I forgot about him, my parents, my dog, blah, blah, blah, and just had a great meal with lots of laughs. I felt like myself again which was obviously great.
Then it came time to leave. Today was overcast, which always makes me a little down, but the idea of saying good-byes and people leaving made me super anxious.
Actually, how it really went was that I woke up in a great mood from yesterday, convinced I’d turned a corner with this breakup and my mental state in general, started thinking about how the day was going to go, it got cloudier and cloudier (the weather and my mood), I started dwelling on the idea that maybe it’s not that he’s emotionally not in a place right now to be with me – that maybe he just doesn’t like me. That went to, well he’s going to find someone else and I’m going to have to see them together and I’ll be alone and I’m such a fool and he never liked me to begin with. Heart pounding, chest heavy, shallow breaths (okay, that could have also been the fried chicken from breakfast. When in the South…) feeling just anxious as hell.
Instead of letting the anxiety run away into, “God, he hates me, I’m such a fool, how can I possibly get him to love me?” I looked at what was actually going on. What were the facts of the day that would make my mind go to these places? And obviously it was the impending good-byes, people leaving me, I’m all alone, the next place I’ll be is my dark bed tonight alone … yep, right back to the dark night trying to take me away.
At the risk of sounding like a total new-age nutjob, I told my best friend that, “Shit, I’m starting to get crazy anxious about saying good-bye.” This is the kind of thing I would have laughed at ten years ago. That we would have laughed at together. But of course, she totally understood and we started talking about anxiety and where the fuck did it come from as we got older?
It didn’t make the shitty thoughts go away totally, but I also didn’t spiral down into sobbing that I love him and he doesn’t love me and why oh why doesn’t anyone love me bullshit. None of which is true.
I also talked to him on the drive up, just as friends to catch up. That’s a whole different post. Man, I still really want to be with him. Ugh.
My life coach homework this week is to write down what I bring to relationships. She said I could take it whatever direction I liked, so I’m doing two lists: 1) what I know I can bring to a relationship and 2) what I actually did bring to this last one. So far list 1 is a lot longer than list 2. Ugh.