Disordered eating

I tried to continue my Paleo lifestyle during my mama's visit.  I resisted all of her attempts to feed me breads, sugar, sauces... basically anything that wasn't meat, vegetables, or fruit.

Throughout her trip, my mom kept telling me how "uncomfortable" she felt about my diet. In her opinion, removing anything from one's diet altogether is bad. And as I listened to her, I became more convinced that I should wean myself off of Paleo and return back to a well-balanced, well-rounded diet consisting of mostly everything (except sugars and other unprocessed foods).  What I mean to say is, I think it's time to re-introduce cheeses, grains (whole), and other natural carbs back into my system, including legumes.

My fear is that if I continue going Paleo, my body may start to develop sensitivities and allergies to foods that I'm not eating.  Because I started Paleo being able to eat everything, I don't want to create an intolerance because of such a strict dietary lifestyle.

So, as I'm weaning myself off of this diet, I'm surprised to find that returning to "normal eating" has been very very hard.  I can understand now, why some people describe their eating disorder to be the best friend and most loyal company they have.  Without Paleo for the past 2 days, I feel like I've lost structure in my day to day life. I've lost routine, I've lost direction, and I feel completely unsure and unconfident in my eating habits. There is no guarantee for anything and my body no longer feels pure. I feel like I'm gaining weight, even though I'm probably not. The perfectionist in me is screaming at me to go back to Paleo. I physically feel feel like I am dirtying my insides every time I eat foods that are non-Paleo.  This must be what an eating disorder can feel like, and I'm recognizing now, how much my eating habits were giving me a sense of control amidst chaos.

That's scary.

The more I read about healthy living and eating, the less guarantees there are about eating well.  Some say eat fruits and veggies. Other say, no no, you can only eat organic fruits and veggies.  Some say reduce your portions of red meat and other sources of animal fat. Others say, nono, pile on the meats or else you will lose your muscle tissues!

Apparently, there are no right or wrong answers to eating healthy, and it is based on one person's body type and knowledge of what is best for you-- specifically. At this point in time, however, I feel like there are very distinct right versus wrong decisions and I am either right or wrong. This mentality immobilizes me so that I'm in a state of fear... and hunger.

When did I become so dogmatic in my ways?

He's just not that into you

I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but my favorite-movie-of-all-time is: He's just not that into you.

I love love love this movie and have watched it so many times with so many different reactions and emotions each and every time.  Some people may find it funny that such an insulting (title) movie can be a favorite. But I actually find the message and title to be absolutely empowering because it is the exact reminder that I need to move forward with my life without putting the blame entirely on myself.

When someone is not into me, it's not me, it's them! 


It's their decision not to like me! 

It is liberating to know that there's nothing I can/should do to change someone's decision not to love me. I know this now having learned hard way. When someone doesn't like me, I need to accept that I am not the exception in their story line, I am the norm. I am the 99% and not the 1% that they want to grow old with, start a life with, commit love to, and make compromises with.  No amount of hard work will change things so that I am the 1% (even though I always think that if I work hard enough, I can make myself the 1%). In the past, I've operated under the assumption that I can and will change myself in the hopes that they will grow to like me. But I now know that it's not a sign of failure, or not being good enough if I am the 99% rather than the exception. Instead of working sooo hard in a unsuccessful relationship, I can move forward and hopefully find someone who will adore me instead. I don't have to take responsibility for them not liking me. I don't have to work so damn hard for a love that will never come.

When my mom came this week, I made her watch the movie before she fell asleep 15 minutes into it.  She didn't really like the movie and was quite annoyed that women were portrayed to be so desperate and men-crazy. It's not her cup of tea, but that's OK.

She hasn't gone through what I've gone through (and I'm happy for her!) to appreciate the pangs of hopeless optimism and rejection. But I get it, and this movie rings true to me more than I would like it to!

Soul mates

I don't know if I believe in the idea of soul mates, anymore.

But I do like this quote, and I wonder where I can get me one of these...

Question:
Do soul mates always have to be romantic? Can they come in the form of friends? Families? Acquaintances that we meet at a particular moment in time but contribute to our lives significantly?

Time with mom

My mom came to visit this week and our time together flew by.

It's like she disappeared into the night or something-- I can't believe she came and went already.

This week, I completely detached myself from work, school, emails, responsibilities, and spent quality time with my mom. We had 4 days together, in total, and most of it was spent shopping, trying on clothes (often in my closet), laughing, eating, and talking. I enjoyed every single second of it, even though there were times when I was annoyed that she kept trying to (over)feed me.

My mom is my best friend and has always been-- since I was a kid.  I can do anything, be anything, and say anything around her. I can simply be, and I had forgotten how comforting it was to be able to feel at ease with someone else around me.

Before mom came, I had been a bit anxious about entertaining her.  But once she got here, that wasn't a problem whatsoever. Mom took care of me, instead. She bought me all sorts of things: groceries, to begin with! clothes! And she also got me a ton of cooking appliances that I've been secretly wanting and saving up for so that I can buy it for myself one day. My mom got me a juicer, a crockpot, and she also got me a scale.  I've been window-shopping for a scale for the past 6 months, actually, and it took mom being here for me to finally commit to one. Ha!

My best time with my mom was every single second, literally.  I loved cooking with her, eating with her, sitting in the car with her, and talking to her before we fell asleep at night. I miss my mom!

I mean, I really miss my mom! After waving her off at the airport, I walked back to the car, sat down, and burst into tears realizing how lonely I am, now that I have experienced a week of feeling immensely loved and accepted for who I am.

Moms are so special, and for me, she is truly irreplaceable. She is the person that tells me to stay being true to myself, and to encourage me and remind me of my strengths amidst my imperfections.  Basically, she tells me this (and who doesn't need someone to tell us that?):

Re-creating closure

I've been feeling crazy lonely these days, which is strange because up until recently, I was enjoying my alone-ness and feeling empowered about being happily alone.

The more lonely I've been feeling, the more vulnerable I've felt.  And the more vulnerable I am, the more I've resorted to thinking about Robert.  Which makes me wonder... which came first: the chicken or the egg?

For me, does vulnerability come first and then my thoughts about breakups? Or do I think about breakups first and then feel vulnerable afterwards?

I spent the past few nights crying about Robert.  Why? No reason. No reason, whatsoever.

It all started when my mom brought up Robert in our phone conversation the other day. She casually mentioned that we were actually quite similar and that she is just as perplexed about him as I am. I was shell-shocked because for so many years, she's always said we were ridiculously opposites of one another and it could have never ever worked.

As she talked, I started to get emotional, wondering about all the should haves, would haves, could haves.  I cried and cried when I went to bed that night, feeling haunted by our relationship, and feeling broken-hearted about how we ended.  At the very least, why aren't we friends? At the very least, why couldn't be at least amiable to each other?

For 3 nights in-a-row, I cried and cried about Robert and had imaginary conversations with him about our breakup. I imagined shaking him and asking the Robert I used to know to come back so that I can have just one more conversation with him.  I remember when I saw Robert a few years ago, I couldn't connect with him and starting into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.  It was heartbreaking, as if a different soul possessed his body altogether.

I just need to say goodbye to him.  That's what I need.  Because Robert and I ended so strangely, so abruptly, I think I have no closure from him, no matter how hard I have tried to create it by myself. So I laid in bed the other night telling him goodbye and telling him that he was so meaningful in my life, and  that he continues to play such an important part in my sense of identity and my feelings of self-worth as a person. I cried as though we were just breaking up and I fell asleep surrounded by kleenexes, kleenexes, and more kleenexes.

In the light of day, however, I couldn't understand why I had been so devastated the night before. What happened? What happens to me at night?

Loneliness

I have been feeling somewhat lonely these days.

There are (too) many engagements happening around me.
Many babies being born.
Several weddings taking place.

In short, many people are starting their families. Starting and/or expanding.

As I revel in their joy, I can't help but feel very alone and very lonely.
No, I do not want to talk on the phone.  I have nothing to say.
I do not want to eat-out and catch-up because there is nothing to update.
I don't know what I want. I just feel very unique... in a bad way.

It's like I can't relate to anybody these days.

When I have moments like this, I can't help but wonder: Will love find a way? Will love find me and my way?

Advice to my 14-year old self...

If there was something I could tell the 14-year-old me, it would be this:

Live your life without waiting for someone else.


I have put my life on-hold whenever a potential lover comes into my life. I stop, drop, and endorse a new identity for him... whoever he is.  No matter how great my life is beforehand, no matter how wonderfully I'm doing beforehand, I will change tracks for my romantic partner because I don't want to miss-out on him and lose him, altogether.

So, I make myself available to them so they don't forget about me/ forget about my presence.  I don't have one specific example in mind, but I have many many experiences of changing my path (literally my walking path) so that I can run-into that person to refresh myself in their memory.  I will change my schedule to adapt to his. I will maneuver my life to fit into his. I will wear the clothes that he likes to fit into his idea of a fantasy woman. I have done so much shape-shifting, partly motivated from my desire to please others; the other reason being my fear that if I don't work very very hard to fit him, then I will miss out on the most glorifying thing that I could ever happen in my life: being loved and finding the person that will love me forever.

So, now more than a decade later, I want to tell my 14-year-old self that it's not necessarily to put in so much damn work.


It shouldn't be that hard.  If it's meant to be, then it will be.  If it's not meant to be, then it will be... later. Did you hear what I said? Later, not never.  As a teenager, everything feels absolute: "If I don't ___, then I will never ___.  Listen, missy, there's no such thing as never. It's not the end if you don't adapt yourself to him. Your life journey will not be over, your identity will not be gone, and you will not shrivel up and die. The only thing you can ever lose is your identity, and you will lose that when you try so hard to fit yourself into someone else's life. 

You do not have to live for someone else, or be something different for another person.  If you did, then that's not the right person.  And if you did, then you no longer are a healthy person anymore, either. The right person will come along when you are ready and when he is ready.  You will not have to change so much of yourself or your life for him. You will do not have to work so hard for him.  You should never have to lose yourself for him or for someone else.  Just live your life honestly and authentically and good things will happen.  You may not be in as many relationships over the years, but I guarantee that you will be happier in the short- and long- run.

Oh, mother-child relationships

As I laid in bed this morning listening to the tree branches tapping wildly in my bedroom window because of the freak-crazy winds we are getting, I thought about Robert.  I recently heard this quote from a therapist about relationships, and have been thinking about it ever since: "The relationships we have with our mothers influences all of our subsequent relationships."

I suppose I knew this theory/perspective. But I hadn't applied to to Robert until this morning, when I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with his friend over Christmas break.  She had said that Robert complains quite a bit about living at home and taking care of his mom.  His friend had thought he was taking no responsibility for doing nothing with his life and using his mom as an excuse. Why is he pinning his frustrations on her when he can easily move out and and pursue life at full-force without attributing all this responsibility on her?

Now, I don't know if Robert has told his friends that his mom had been diagnosed with cancer.  He is so secretive that I wouldn't be surprised if he's hidden all of that. But I'd guess that if they knew about the cancer, they'd have some sympathy.  Judging from his friend's annoyance toward him, however, I'd say... they probably don't know.

Nevertheless, I started to think about Robert's relationship with me and whether he felt that same burden and annoyance when it comes to his relationship with his mom.  Was our relationship such a drag for him too? Did he feel like he had to do a lot of care-taking with me?

I love Robert for so many reasons, one of them being his love for his mom.  Leaving me to take care of his mom is actually the best excuse one could ever have, if someone were to dump me for another woman. But for him to gripe about the care-taking makes me wonder who he is, and what I know about him, if anything at all. Who is Robert, anyways? Why does he do what he does? How did/does he see me? And is his perception indicative of reality?

The greatest mystery of my life, sadly, is our break-up.  On my deathbed one day, I will wonder with defeat, "why? what happened?" in the same way I wonder about it today. I've considered Robert's reasons to be the reality, so if Robert says, "because you suck", then that would be the truth.  But what if Robert simply has his own issues and simply hates being responsible and committed to another person, entirely? Then am I to blame for our break-up? Do I still hold myself accountable, as though I could have changed our break-up?

My mind's a-reeling.

On being liked... romantically.

I can write for days end about being liked, in general.  But this post is not about that.  It's about my tendency to feel absolutely disgusted when I find out that someone likes me, romantically.

Why is that, I wonder?

Why is it that in almost all social settings, I cater to pleasing others and maintaining harmony for the sake of being liked? But then when someone potentially likes me and tries to get close to me, I balk at that possibility and run as far as possible?

In elementary school, one of my best friends developed a crush on me and wrote me a love letter of some sort. He was pretty explicit about liking me, and as soon as I found out, I treated him as though he had some sort of contagious disease.

Similarly, in high school, when a friend asked me to the winter formal and declared his love for me in front of well, everyone, I freaked out and began to avoid him at all costs.

While some people may think this is some sort of diva or princess attitude, I consider that explanation to be much more superficial than the truth.  The complex, complicated, and convoluted reality is actually quite sad and it is the opposite of self-entitlement.

The truth is that whenever someone likes me, I find myself immediately shocked at the possibility that some person in this world has an interest in me.  I cannot fathom why anyone would find me interesting, much less take the next step to pursue me. Instead of feeling flattered, I delve straight into contempt and disgust. What is WRONG with this person that he likes me? Why are his standards so low? What does he see in me that 99.9% of the people don't see? What is wrong with him that he sees good in something (ahem, me) that I see as so bad (again, me)?

The shame is overwhelming, and I hadn't even realized that it was my own self-contempt that blocks my way to happiness.  Why don't I love myself more? Wait, let me take a step back. Why don't I like myself enough to believe that I am likeable, and at some point, even loveable?

These self-reflections are so good for me in my journey of self-exploration and -empowerment. If I don't love myself more than anyone else in this world, then why should someone else?  And if I depend on someone else's affection to validate my self-worth, then who am I on my own? My goals, both now and for the rest of my life, are to love myself, and to find things within me that I can identify with, accept, and come to love.  It's a 3-step process: 1) identify, 2) accept, and 3) love.

First, I must identify who I am, and what I'm all about.
Next, I have to accept all that I am, the good, the bad, the neutral, and the shameful.
Finally, I have to find a way to love it because they are all part of me, whether I like it or not. And far from fighting it, why not embrace it, love it, and believe that the sum is greater than all of its parts? That I, as a person, am good even if there are bad parts?

I think that only when I can love myself more, will I be able to let myself be loved by another person. And just to clarify...  I'm not talking about just any random person. My track-record to date, shows that I keep finding people who are unhealthy themselves validate my existence. So, when I say another person, I'm talking about someone who will also be healthy enough to love me as well as love himself.  Someone whole, someone at peace, and someone that can help me be better in the same way that I can help him be better.

And let's face it, we can't help anyone be better when we're not whole. I can't help anyone.  I can't even help myself when I look to someone else to make me feel whole.

Music heals the soul

Last night, I attended that concert solo and had a great time. Unexpectedly. Haha.

I did not think I'd have such a good time by myself.  I thought I would be self-conscious the whole time. I anticipated feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassed to be alone.  But I actually didn't feel any of those things. On a few occasions, when friends texted to ask where I was and who I was hanging out with, I felt a twinge of embarrassment to say: "concert! i'm going solo."Did people need to know that this is my favorite R&B group EVER and that I would go with or without a bunch of people? Did I need to explain that I kinda chose to go alone, and that it's not a reflection of me being loser-y?

I thought about these questions before answering, and each time, I felt stronger and stronger when I decided not to explain myself to anybody.  I'm going to a concert, solo, people. It's not that big of a deal. I'm not going to blow it out of proportion to make it representative of anything else other than me going out for a good time with or without others.

In the end, I had an amazing time.  I had a really great seat, I felt very comfortable singing, watching, crying (to the songs), and dancing to the music. I felt very connected to the power of the music. I knew  all of the lyrics, and as I sang along, I re-played in my head, lots of dreams, hopes, and disappointments about my love life.

Ironically, this band is the one that I have listened to throughout my life. Their music set-the-stage for my expectations about love. Their music validated my pain when people fell out of love with me. Their music captures so much of my childhood, adolescent years, and even now, in my adulthood.

In the midst of the concert, I realized that for my birthday one year, perhaps when I turned, I had asked Robert for one of their CDs. He had haphazardly tossed that CD to me on the night of my birthday, outside of my house, unwrapped and with the "Best Buy" price tag still on it. He refused to come in for birthday cake that night, saying that he had too much homework to do and needed to get home.  It was humiliating, and insulting, and I was so disappointed. My family was waiting for him inside so we could all cut the cake together. He didn't care. He left.

Another time, about 3 years ago, I dated an asshole guy, Frank, who was not only emotionally unstable, but also verbally abusive. It was a terrible relationship, and I always had to drive one hour out of my way to see him. In the end, I broke up with him because I simply could not tolerate him anymore. That didn't make the break up easier, though.  What helped was listening to the music of this boy band and crying-- very hard-- in those 60 minute drives until all the pain, heartache, and anger flowed out of my system.

Music has healed my soul for so long, and I feel that much more empowered from the concert last night. I re-lived memories of previous relationships. I realized how much my expectations have been shaped by musical lyrics, which sometimes can be unrealistic. And I also became aware of how content I am these days, without a romantic partner to rely on, depend on, or impose those lyrics. Being alone in that huuuge auditorium with hundreds of people, made me realize that I am not alone, and that I am more connected to every thing and everyone when I am not in a relationship.  At least for now, this is the best thing I can do for myself, and I want to continue to empower myself, learn more about myself, and get healthier before I jump into anything remotely romantic ever again.

I walked out of the auditorium last night, feeling so proud of myself.  So proud of me.  I did it. I attended a concert alone and I felt great. My friends, who happened to be downtown texted to ask if I wanted to stop by and get a drink with them. That made my night even better, knowing that I can do things alone by myself, and also have great friends who I can hang out with just a few blocks away whenever I want to (literally and figuratively).

These days, I have no regrets, whatsoever.

Doing it solo!

I’m heading to a concert in a few minutes. 

Just going to go see my favorite boy band in the world. Ever. That’s all.   

Unfortunately, this is a solo trip.  Yup, just me, myself, and I because I don’t know anyone who wanted to see this band, and because I bought these tickets so last-minute that I couldn’t even get tickets for 2 people to sit together.

Still, times like this make me wish I were back in my big city with tons of friends who would jump at the chance to go to a concert with me.

Still, I’m feeling excited but quite nervous as well. I’ve never been to a concert ALONE. Shouldn’t this kind of activity be group-oriented? And isn’t that a social event as opposed to a solitary event?

At the same time, I do feel kind of proud of myself for going alone. I often tell my single friends or even my friends in long-distance relationships that they should pursue what they want even if it’s alone.  I try to empower them to do things like eat at a restaurant alone if they can’t find anyone to go with. Watch a movie alone. Shop alone (which I often do, actually).

So it’s quite appropriate that I find myself going to a concert alone. If I didn’t, then I’d be all talk, wouldn’t I? It’s time that I walked the walk instead of just talk the talk.

Relationship with myself

Time after time, person after person, relationship after relationship, I've lost myself, my identity, and my needs.

It's happening again, but this time it's not about a boy or a romantic relationship either.

As I'm working on my dissertation (defense), I have been feeling utterly terrified. Immobilized even. I sit in front of the computer, freak-out in my head feeling traumatized by my last experience with my dissertation committee.

2 years ago, I had the most negative academic experience of my life... and it was one week after I had discovered that B. cheated on me.  May 5 was the day that I discovered his cheating emails to another woman and I had been devastated beyond belief.  One week later, I had my dissertation proposal meeting with 4 professors grilled me about my project, my research, and my abilities. I knew that those meetings are supposed to be hard, but it was much more than that for me. It was devastating as well-- except this time, professionally.  I had gotten such negative feedback, such poor delivery in the feedback, such a slap-in-the-face (figuratively) that I lost all sense of confidence in me. I felt completely incompetent in every single way possible: as a person, lover,  woman, girlfriend, and then on top of that, as a researcher, scientist, student, advisee, etc. etc.

Fast-forward to now and it's 2 years later but I feel the same, if not worse. I feel ashamed of what happened 2 years ago.  On top of that, I anticipate a repeat episode of what happened before. People who don't know me shake their heads at me and laugh off my concerns. They think I'm freaking out for no reason and remind me of my strengths.  But for the people who know me, they know that my self-doubt and fear are not case-specific or incident-specific. They are the outcome of two of the most negative experiences of my life and they are now, salient aspects of my identity.

I leave myself with this quote as a reminder that I have to prove myself wrong.  I have to pass this test, in the same way I passed my last "test" when B. suddenly showed up in my life but I maintained boundaries, composure, and distance. I have to pass it because if I don't, the same problems will emerge over and over, and they will all entail my sense of self-doubt, self-shame, and immobilized fear to "be myself"-- for better or for worse.

A great day today

I have so many great news to share that I don't know where to begin.

For starters, I submitted my 241 whopping whale of a dissertation this week.  It is officially out-of-my-hands. Whoopee!!

I also had lunch with my adviser today and we talked about anything and everything.  Although I don't see him much, we occasionally have these meetings that just make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.  I suppose that in the 6 years that I've been here, he should know me.  Nevertheless, I'm always surprised when he says things to me that capture exactly how I feel, or exactly what's happening in my life.

Over lunch at this gorgeous Thai restaurant in town-- our annual Spring lunches, mind you, we talked about my dissertation, my plans this summer for internship, my attempts to be physically active and healthy, and we also talked about what's happening on the relationship front.  My adviser actually met B. that day when he randomly showed up in front of my office.  Before that, I had told him a bit about our relationship, so he knew the backdrop.  As we ate, he asked what happened after running into him, and if I'm officially done with that relationship these days.  As we talked, he shared that prior to meeting his wife, he has also had similar experiences like me, and he has known others who "take care of others before taking care of yourself."

I was so surprised that he hit the nail on the head.  How does he know me so well?

He knew exactly what my problem was/is, and not only did he understand it, but he was not judgmental whatsoever.  He was validating and he normalized my experience by sharing his own very personal experiences in relationships.  He said that many of us in the helping professionals struggle with finding reciprocal relationships because we simply have so much love to give (and we can sometimes give it to the wrong people in our personal lives). He told me stories about his own love life, and he talked about the challenges that he has struggled with as well. I have never felt as close to him as I did today.  And I felt so honored that he was willing to share it with me.

You now what else? I also grew from this experience just seeing him talk. When he spoke and shared his experiences, he did not talk with shame. He talked about experiences similar to mine, when an ex-partner under-appreciates you and treats you like shit, but you still want them at the expense of your own well-being.  What was also strange was that when I heard him talk, I didn't judge him either.  I didn't judge him in the way I would judge myself if it were my story.  Instead, when I listened to him, I saw only his strengths. I felt empathy but it wasn't pity or shame.  It was a kind of respect, validation, and understanding. Knowing his struggles made him even more human to me.

So since then, I've been wondering... why can't I see myself in that way as well? Why can't I view me as being "more human" than I thought? Why do I judge myself so harshly?

Tonight, I baked homemade organic cookies for Mr. Z with a recipe that I adapted from here.

I didn't follow the exact ratios, but I did come up with some awesome cookies in all sorts of shapes: xmas trees, gingerbread men, stars, hearts, a weird cross, a flowery circle... and Mr. Z devoured those cookies too, which has made me even happier because I was worried he wouldn't like them.

I'm actually flying on cloud 9 because of my conversation with my adviser today, my successful attempt at making homemade treats for Mr. Z tonight, and because my entire apartment currently smells like peanut butter and honey right now... which is absolutely wonderful.

Mind-reading

Today, I caught myself falling-back into an old habit of mine.

A friend of mine sent me this link to a horoscope blog that basically captured all of her experiences this week.  It was so accurate that I couldn't help but look up my own horoscope to see what it said. So I did.

And then after I looked up myself, I looked up Robert's.

Goodness, I haven't done that in awhile.

For years after Robert and I broke up, I would look at Robert's horoscope whenever I happened to read my own. Without fail, I would always look him up, wondering how his day is going, his week, month, and even year. It gave me some glimpse into his life, no, scratch that.  I hoped it would give me some glimpse into his life, some understanding of what happened and where he is now.

I don't know what I was looking for then, and I don't know what I'm looking for now.  What could a horoscope possibly say? I can't even come up with a logical answer for that.

I suppose if I think about it long enough, I hoped for something like.... "Scorpio realized he missed on the love of his life 7 years ago and will pursue her in full force from here on out. He has an unbelievable explanation but it will be so legitimate and so understandable, that his loved one would certainly forgive him."  And then of course, Robert would show-up at my door soon after.

Blogs

I have become addicted to food blogs.  Raw food blogs, healthy-cooking blogs, food photography blogs, restaurant blogs.  You name it, if there are food pictures to be seen, then I'm clicking on it and not dissertating.

It's my version of porn. Food porn, to be exact.

And I get so stimulated, aesthetically, visually, that I get this crazy adrenaline rush and can't help but click some more.

Is this a real addiction or is it just my avoidant technique to take breaks from writing?

Either way, I am super stressed and when that happens, well, let's just say it's no good. No good at all.

Finding my inner-peace

I had dinner with a friend/colleague last night and unintentionally, we got to talking about deep-deep-deep issues about trauma, abandonment, love, loss, grieving, and searching for spiritual meaning in our lives.

Our get-together was somewhat surreal. It was very personal. I felt very vulnerable. I got to be very emotional. I'm pretty sure he felt the same way too.

At some points, I wasn't sure if I should share so much of myself.  I'm glad I did though. I actually learned more about myself as I talked.

I realized that I can reach a little bit of peacefulness each day... if I'm really in-touch with myself and really present in the moment.

On my walks with Mr. Z., I sometimes reach a different state of mind, where I am entirely immersed in my walk and with nature. I can feel the breeze in my hair, the sunlight hitting my face, the sound of the grass moving, and the chirping of the birds. It can feel magical to have so much of my senses activated.

In those moments, I can feel gratitude and contentment in ways I have never felt before. I can feel appreciative of where I am in life today. I can feel optimistic about the future (whatever that may come), and I can let go of the past as something far away from the here-and-now. I can just be.  In those few minutes that I am so in-touch with nature, I can feel a connection with the world, with humanity, with compassion. It can last for a split second, and rarely more than a couple of minutes.  Nevertheless, in that time frame, I realize realize that it is actually possible for me to be at peace.

Chasing Love

Chasing love? Don't do it.

I did! 

I still do. 

But I'm working on how to stop doing it. 

Revenge?

"The best revenge after a break-up is to look good."

I never heard of that before, but it suuure makes sense to me!  Without explicitly planning that, I've always aspired for this goal without even knowing it.

After my first breakup, which was with Robert, I caked myself with heavy make-up every single time I went back home to visit.  Whether it was a trip to the grocery store, or a fun night out with friends, I made sure I looked impeccable... just in case I might run into him.  Annnd just in case his friends decide to relay the message that I looked sizzling hot.

I still try to look good when I go home, because as luck would have it, I bet the one time I go out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, I'll run into him. Only, I haven't run into him yet.

As for my breakup with B. last year, I haven't thought to look good and I've done the opposite instead.  I don't mean to say I look bad, but I was definitely tired of dressing to impress, and making so much effort for him, period.  Getting him out of my life was so rough, that I was just so tired and so drained. 

But I did start taking care of myself from within: eating healthy, being more physically active, sleeping normal hours, hanging out with friends, doing things that rejuvenate me like cooking and watching movies... All of those things made me feel better on the inside, and it was strange that I really didn't care about how I looked on the outside.

Still, I have to tell you that it's true what they say! Feeling good on the inside does translate into looking good on the outside. When I saw B. that fateful day week when he suddenly showed up, his eyes just about popped when he saw me.  First reaction? "Wow you look really good!"

And it's true that on that day, I was wearing a dress, some leggings, and some very cute flats. I had weighed myself and learned that I've lost about 6 pounds over the past few months because of my eating and working out. I know I looked good. But I didn't do it for him this time around.  I was dressing cute for me. I was eating healthy for me. I was working out for me. I was doing all these things for me, and in turn, they helped make me feel and look even better. OK, now, the petty part of me also wants to emphasize that he did not look good. He looked like he gained weight, his face seemed sweaty, his hair seemed messy, and he appeared to aged since I last saw him. Not attractive. Not attractive at all.

So, in retrospect, I guess you can call that my revenge. It wasn't my plan to look good for him, but ha! In your face!

A little bit of inspiration

Sometimes I forget how far I come... especially compared to when I first started this blog.  That wasn't even a year ago, but I had been in such a deep hole at the time.  I had felt so mangled inside, so tortured, and in so much angst.

It was around last year this time that I realized nothing would work no matter how hard I was trying. I had absolutely no hope because being in the relationship was painful and leaving it felt equally painful.

My relationship with B. defeated me in ways I never imagined. Figuratively speaking, it brought me to my knees, and maybe even lower. I felt so broken from it and have been trying to heal, recover, and uncover myself once again.  Yes, I use the word "uncover" instead of "discover" because I believe the beautiful parts of me can emerge again.  They are in me. Somewhere. They're just waiting to be, well, uncovered.

That is the entire reason why I started this blog in the first place.

Not over you

Every time I hear this song, I can't help but sing it out loud and then suddenly feel emotional afterwards. One time, I even waited to get out of the car until the song finished playing on the radio. Yup.

That's how much attention this song gets from me. This song reflects the feelings I've held onto because of Robert. Even after all these years, the lyrics in this song ring continue to ring true for me.



Not Over You (Gavin DeGraw)


Dreams, that's where I have to go
To see your beautiful face anymore
I stare at a picture of you, and listen to the radio
Hope, hope there's a conversation
Where we both admit we had it good
But until then it's alienation, I know
That much is understood and I realize

If you ask me how I'm doing
I would say I'm doing just fine
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
And finally I'm forced to face the truth,
No matter what I say I'm not over you


...


There's more lyrics to this song, but a lot of it is repeated.  


** I also HAVE to critique this video because watching it actually pissed me off. Why is it that in every shot, the girl is dressed so skimpily and positioned so that she seems like a total sex object? All those poses that she's doing -- how cliche are those?  Meanwhile, he looks like a bum in this video.  


Gotta love mainstream messages about how us ladies are supposed to look for our men, right? Dress sexy, lay around in almost no clothes, and then run after them.  Meanwhile, they get to wear their casual day-to-day clothes, feel comfortable, be themselves, and wait to be chased.  OK, I take back the being chased part. Only the last part is supposed to be a joke. I meant everything else!

Love, happiness, marriage

My girlfriends and I write to each other on a random basis. When things come up in our lives, we email and we ask about each others' perspectives.

This week, my elementary school best friends emailed to discuss the topic of marriage.  One of the girls has been struggling with dating and meeting guys that are a good fit for her.  She hasn't had many long-term relationships because it's been hard to "click" with someone beyond a couple of dates. As she talked about these challenges, she referred to facebook and seeing all these engagements and wedding posts and feeling bitter.  Why are other people getting married but not us? she asked.  How are people getting "that" when she feels so far away and so far behind from what they've got?

In response to her email, I wrote a long piece about my own thoughts regarding marriage. About love. About hope.  I also write about my life journeys being bitch-slapped by reality and instead of floating happily in love and/or marriage.

"... For me, I have equated marriage to all things magical.  Marriage means love. It means floating on cloud 9 and being happy all the time (I've learned that it's not). It means stability, it means unconditional give and take. It means meeting your other half and establishing a life together. It means commitment, perseverance, compromise, sometimes sacrifice, and ultimately, it means making an active choice to be with each other. It means open communication, respect for each other's values & decision-making, and it means loving (or trying to love) what's different than what you know.

Marriage is the "happily ever after" in my book, and it's what I've always imagined my ending to be.  Umm... wait, I take that back.  I never wanted it to be my ending, I wanted it to be my beginning, my middle and my end. Yeah.

However, as we've gotten older, I realize that marriage is actually not as magical as I thought I would be. And even more so, love is NOT the wondeful concept I projected it to be. 

Apparently, having to compromise and sacrifice is a shitty feeling that's only romanticized in chick flicks to make it seem like it's a GOOD thing. Trying to like what your partner likes is freakin' frustrating and annoying.  And sticking together through "thick-and-thin" can sound good but it blows because you just want to ditch them on the road sometimes. And then there's times when you don't even want to live by the morals and values you thought you believed in. You don't want to be open-minded anymore, and you don't want to try. You just want that other person to be exactly like you, think exactly like you, and just stfu and make you feel better. But they won't. So there's friction, friction, more friction, and you wonder where the love went. Well, that's love, my dears. Love (can) suck(s).  Of course then marriage can suck even more because you're committed to loving someone who you can't stand at times.

Realizing that love, marriage, and being happy is NOT the same has been the biggest surprise of my life. It's turned my world upside down, inside-out, and honest-to-God, I'm still reeling from the shock of it all.

In the past few years, I've learned that there are people in this world who are NOT married, but who have all of these wonderful things in their relationships that seem like the magical love that I imagine (lucky bastards!)  There are people who ARE married who have none of them (woe is them-- hello, reality). And there are people who think they are in love and have some of those magical things and also some of those shitty things (THE MAJORITY OF THEM!). So apparently, marriage is not the end-all-be-all when it comes to love and happiness.

I'm starting to get it when some people say they don't believe in marriage. I wonder about it now too. Who wants to handcuff themselves to someone else when when it's so much more relaxing to be on your own these days?

Still, there's the traditional, optimistic, and pathetically hopeful part of me that wants the whole enchilada.  I want to (still) believe that marriage can signify commitment, acceptance, perseverance, compromise, and happiness at the same time. I want to have all the things I didn't see in my parents' relationship, and I want to have all the things that I see in people who are happily together (married or not) and choosing each day to be together. Because I realize that it's so damn hard, I think it makes sense that even the screening process (aka dating) is going to be difficult.  Thank goodness ur not clicking with just anybody, _____ (friend's name)! Then you have to put-up-with-them months later, years later (That's what I do.  I click with anyone and everyone and then I suffer the consequences until I can no longer). The journey will only get harder, and if it's the right person, I think it's supposed to be more rewarding as well. So he better be worth it to make it to the final running!"

Is your relationship over?

I came across an article today, entitled: "When it's just another fight and when it's over".  It was actually featured in Yahoo under the heading, "Is your marriage over?" and I couldn't help but read it.

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/just-another-fight-over-040100241.html

I'm glad I read did, actually.  But before I delve into the details, I want to note that the article was falsely advertised because it isn't only marriages that end. Break-ups suck too!  Couldn't they have promoted it as, "Is your relationship over?"

Aside from this gripe, I've been thinking about this article ever since.  The gist of this piece is about resentment and having a fight be the straw that breaks the camel's back.  In essence, it's not necessarily just that fight that leads to the breakup.  It's all the other things building up to it: all the frustrations, miscommunications, annoyances that just seem too much to bear.  So, what happens is that from one partner's perspective, s/he may think they're having just another fight.  For the other person, the one who is up to his/her ears being fed-up, it is the defining moment in realizing that it is absolutely, positively over.

This article is hitting me in a sore spot, as I think about my breakup with Robert.  Yes, again, I'm going to me talking about my first love because I grieve about him these days and not B.  I have to get to the root of this.  I have to understand why I am the way I am (when it comes to him).

I have rejected this hypothesis in the past: that we broke up because our last fight (which felt like just another fight to me) was the straw that broke his (him being a camel) back. Maybe for me, it was something I expected to resolve.  But for him, it was the last thing he wanted to handle, the last thing he wanted to tolerate. Perhaps from his perspective, it was the last jenga piece that was coming out of our already-wobbly relationship.

It's hard for me to think that our relationship led up to that point.  I find it hard to even imagine that he had a lot of resentment, anger, and frustration towards me.  It's really really hard to even think that because it would mean we were completely out-of-tune with each other. I mean, out-of-tune to the point that I didn't even know he was so unhappy.  Out-of-tune because I never imagined we would ever break-up, only that we would fight and fight, but eventually we'd work-through it and be OK. It would also hurt to know that we never even attempted to resolve his unhappiness if he was so upset with me.

Why was he so upset with me? Was I so hard to handle? To tolerate? Was our relationship (and me) so bad that he wanted nothing to do with it but to flee and run? I don't know.

I guess I'll never know. But I have to admit that like the article said, we were fighting quite a bit before our final break-up.  We were arguing quite frequently, we were both ridiculously busy and short with each other when we did talk to each other. And when I say talk to each other, I meant through the phone since we were in our 2nd year of long-distance dating.

Here's the even harder part to admit: I confess that even though we were both very busy, I probably could have invested more time and energy into him before our last fight.  I should have seen the signs. I should have done something! I remember there was one night when he was suddenly in a good mood.  He had been pretty negative throughout that week and I could not understand what was going on.  So when he was in a good mood that night, I should have spent time focusing on him and trying to re-connect us.  Instead, however, I felt pressured to host 2 of my friends who had travelled to stay for the weekend.  They had just gotten in when Robert had called.  I remember feeling relieved that he was in a good mood, and hopeful that it would stay that way.  He wanted to talk, he wanted to chat, he wanted a long call-- which was uncharacteristic of him (and us) considering how busy we had both been during that time.  If it were any other night, I would have happily obliged and enjoyed every single millisecond with him.  But I felt the pressure of hosting my 2 friends and being a bad hostess because I was out on the porch whispering into the phone at 1am. So instead, I told him I couldn't talk and hoped he would be more understanding so we can catch-up the next day. I basically said no to our time and chance to have some quality conversation together... and to this day, I continue to kick myself and wonder if that might have been the precursor to our break up.

I blame myself and wonder if things would have been different if I just continued to sit outside until the wee hours of the morn.

It is incredibly difficult for me to accept that Robert may have been pissed at me when we broke up.  It is actually (almost) impossible for me to accept that at any point, he had resentment towards me, frustration towards me, and annoyance towards me.  I'm supposed to be the person that makes him happy.  I'm supposed to be the light at the end of his tunnel.  I'm supposed to the love of his life, and the one he shares everything bad with, so we can get through and live happily ever after together.  For us to break up because he had so much pent-up negative emotions toward me (and for me to not know it) is more devastating than... what.... I don't know!  It's equivalent to feeling betrayed and cheated-on, because I feel like I never even knew that's how he felt.  He never even indicated having those feelings toward me.  He never even gave me a chance to work on it together or to address it together before deciding that we were done-zo!

So, in reading this article, I'm reminded about this alternative scenario that I rejected from my consciousness.  I have refused to wonder if we broke-up because he was sick of me, and sick of putting up with me. It is too heartbreaking for me to accept that as a reality. It's too much of a shocker because it turns my world upside-down and inside-out.  Assuming Robert and I broke up because he was fed-up with me, I will be devastated because it takes away all the good things I thought were true in our relationship.  If he really had so much resentment towards me, I will not know how to see myself anymore. I will completely doubt myself and also my reality.  I will question if the good things I experienced were actually true.  I will lose faith in myself that my instincts pick up facts. I will no longer be able to interact with anyone without wondering if they perceive me in a totally different way than how I perceive myself.

So please. Please please please: if you are going to dump someone, tell them. Explain it to them. Do something that gives them closure rather than say nothing and go away. Give them closure. Give ME closure. Because without knowing why you broke up, wondering about endless possibilities could drive a person to madness.  Or it could just keep that person pining over you and feeling heartbroken for years and years and years.  Don't punish them like that. Help them to let go. Help ME let go.

Unresolved grief/loss

I wonder how messed-up I am that I'm still not over my first love.

Just to clarify, though... when I'm dating someone else, I'm 100% committed to the other person.  There isn't even the slightest bit of emotional cheating, whatsoever.

It's just that when the break-up happens, I start to grieve simultaneously and the pain of my 1st breakup will roar back with full force.  That's definitely some unresolved issues there.

Is that normal? Or does that just happen to me?

2 ex-boyfriends, 1 dream

I am super stressed and super sleep-deprived.

I am attempting to finish my big ol' dissertation in the next week, and the all-nighters are killin' me!

When I did sleep for a few hours the other day, I spent it dreaming... specifically, I dreamt of 2 ex-boyfriend attending 1 party with me. Can you say total craziness?

This is what I remember:

I'm at someone's house attending some sort of brunch party or afternoon lunch/dinner party.  It must be Spring-time because it's a sunny day. There are giant windows in the house and tons of natural light streaming in.  I'm standing in a beautiful kitchen, exactly the kind of room I would like when I own a house one day.  Around me, there are lots of people chatting, holding wine glasses and sampling finger-foods and other delicious appetizers.  There are tulips in the garden and I can see the lush green grass and the budding flowers beyond the windows.  It is a gorgeous day and people are dressed as though they are celebrating Easter (so weird because I have never celebrated this holiday in my life!).  Pastel colors are everywhere and even I, myself, am wearing something light, colorful, festive, and pretty.  I am wearing the kind of dress or skirt that looks whimsical and magical and flows all around you. It's a really classy party and everyone there looks dolled-up for the event.

There are tons of food and wine on the island in the kitchen and I'm resting my elbows on the bar, listening to friends talk.  As I'm listening, my eyes dart behind them, looking for someone.  Why? Because just now, somebody told me that Robert is here. Without compromising my dignity or my rational thoughts to run into every room, I've decided to stay still and do exactly what I was doing:  I'm hanging out with friends.  But I'm also looking for him as hard as I possibly can, and I'm SO hoping that I'll soon "run-into him."

The anticipation of seeing Robert gives me such an adrenaline rush that I take a few breaths before turning around to scope out the other side of the room. I'm excited, nervous, happy, a little scared, and more than anything, I'm curious!  I'm so curious!  What does Robert look like now? How will our interaction be when we do eventually meet face-to-face?  If Robert is attending a party, he must be in a good place! I can hardly contain my excitement. And when I do turn around, there he is, a very familiar face looking right at me.  But it's not Robert.  It's not Robert at all. Who do you imagine is standing right there? B.


I am incredibly shocked (in a bad way) and totally confused.  I was anticipating feeling surprised, yes. But the surprise should not have been him, and the surprise also includes frustration. Of all the events to intrude on, this should not be one of them.  This event (and even dream) is about Robert.  I feel irritated that B. is here, stealing the spotlight. Right then and there, I realized I was dreaming.  There is simply no way both of them can show up in one place.  The combination of them 2 in one place is slimmer than none; it is my two separate universes overlapping each other.  I'm disappointed and annoyed now because this dream was about Robert.  My subconscious was all about Robert. So why in heavens is B. here?  Why is he ruining a dream that is hopeful, exciting, nerve-wracking, but also good at the same time?  So rarely do I dream of Robert.  Why did he have to take that away from me?

For some reason, the B. in my dream is less aggressive than he usually is. In turn, I feel less-disgusted with him than I feel in real life. I actually wonder if he can be my friend. I decide to take the risk and tell him about my history with Robert. I ask him to help me, and I ask if he's seen Robert at the party. I'm trusting him with my history, and I'm taking a leap of faith that he can be there for me, as a friend.

Instead, B. mocks me and tells me to get-over-it and to move on. He advises me to stop looking and to stop caring. It's a pity I'm wasting my time on someone like Robert. He laughs at how naiive I am and looks at me quite pitifully.  Instead, he suggests, why not go him? As my most recent ex-boyfriend, he's a sure thing and he continues to want me. But Robert? An ex-boyfriend from 7 years ago? That's a gamble that I wouldn't want to take. At first, B is joking as he says this. But soon he gets more serious about me leaving the party with him. He is annoyed that someone else is in the picture (other than him).  He now wants me more than ever, simply because my heart is no longer his. I consistently say no and keep my focus on Robert, but he will not stop asking me.

Frustrated with my rejections, B. attempts to threaten me by saying he'll disappear forever if I continue to reject him. I do not fall for his manipulation and I tell him great! please leave! B. tells me that it's not worth it to wait around for Robert and that I should appreciate him for being here, instead. He then threatens to blow my cover by telling Robert that I'm around and looking for him, and that's when his threat works and he has my full attention.  I cling onto his shirt sleeve and look him dead-serious in the eye. "You wouldn't!" I gasped, my heart pounding and my disappointment rising as I think about the hope I had for him being my friend and helping me. He grins at me, shrugs, and walks away. 

I turn back to the big windows, to the kitchen in front of me, and I wonder how I look from B.'s perspective. Am I as pathetic as he thinks? Still, I continue to wait and I continue to hope about Robert. I wonder if B. has left the party and if he is gone for good. I had hoped he could help me. I had hoped we could have some sort of positive ending someday. Suddenly, in that very moment, I feel very alone, even if I'm surrounded by room full of happy, chattering people.

As the dream comes to an end, I see the scene pan out.  I'm still standing in the middle of the large kitchen, gazing out the window on the other side of the room. It's still a beautiful day, and this is a beautiful house with amazing food, people, and conversation. There I am, holding a glass of wine, some appetizers in a plate, looking pretty on the outside, but feeling anxious inside. I am waiting. There are many friends and acquaintances near me, chatting, having a good time, catching-up, and enjoying one another. Although I stand amongst them, seemingly happy, I am simultaneously reflecting, watching, and trying to absorb everything around me.  I am happy too, I think, but I am also feeling the exhausting of waiting.

What does this dream mean!?

Why did we break up?

Earlier tonight, I talked to a friend about Robert and questioned aloud if I will ever forget this first love of mine.  My dear friend asked me something very poignant and has gotten me thinking ever since.

When I expressed being frustrated at our unhappy ending (to date), my friend asked me the following questions: "What if he told you why you broke up and the answer is not good enough for you?"

Hmm... Interesting. That's a good question.

What does "good enough" mean?

Suppose Robert were to say, "I don't know, I guess it just ended"-- that would not be good enough, I guess.  I would be confused and I would want specifics, like... "Why did it just end?" "Why did you/I/we let it end?" "Why wasn't it worth it to keep it going and not end?"

Suppose Robert said, "There was too much chaos at that time in my life, with my mom's health issues, my dad's financial issues, my own academic and career issues..."-- that would also not be good enough because I would not know why those things have any connection to our relationship.  This quote is actually a summary of what he actually told me when I saw him a few years ago.  But rather than ask him what it had to do with us, I immediately shifted to how he's doing now, and how his mom and dad have been doing since then.  I never asked about us.  I felt it was too selfish and too me-me-me-focused, and instead, I have obsessed about it by myself ever since.

So clearly, after talking to my friend, I've thought about a few hypothetical answers and I have realized that at this point, what I need to know is: whether he loves me today, whether he loved me at the time when we broke up, and whether he loved me when we were together.  Was it real?

I didn't have the guts to ask him these exact questions when I saw him a few years ago.  I felt too cowardly. Today, I continue to feel terrified of his answer and how it will shatter my image of him and of our relationship.  There is the saying: "action speaks louder than words" and if I were bright enough, I would know that his inaction has spoken volumes.  Over the years, Robert's inactions have been telling me very clearly & very explicitly that he does not love me any more, that he couldn't care less about me or what is happening with me or my life. And he has completely disappeared as much as possible to me and to all of his friends, into some sort of a depression hole.  In the few times that he's interacted with his friends, he's told them not to relay any information to me. He's been surprised to hear that I socialize with them.  And he's been upset that they have chosen to interact with both myself and him. I didn't find out any of this until this winter break when I went home. For the first time, I learned that over the past few years, he's been guarding against me like I'm an enemy, or at the very least, an outsider that he wants little/nothing to do with.

Learning all that information has been very hurtful.  And I kind of forgot about it until... now. Why? Why did I "forget" that Robert chooses to disappear from everyone including me? Why can't I accept that he wants nothing from me and nothing to do with me.

Why can't I accept this reality for what it is?

Through his actions and inactions, Robert is saying he feels nothing for me, he's moved on, and he doesn't even want to have any direct or indirect contact from me.  Why do I continue to romanticize him and our relationship and feel like there was so much more, when clearly there's absolutely nothing left?

This entry makes me feel utterly pathetic, desperate, and all the things I would never want to be associated with.  Alas, it is a version of the truth, and although it hurts, it's also very real.

He exists!

On my way to Penny's baby shower party (that I was co-hosting), I got a call from my high school friend, Jenny.  At first, I contemplated not picking up, since I was in the car about to get to my location.  But curiosity got the best of me, because rarely does she call me at daytime (she's such a party animal she's usually awake only when it's nighttime!).

Turns out, I was right.  Jenny had news for me.

She starts with, "guess who I just saw?"  And I start racking my brain for all the possibilities.  I mean, high school was what, 2,000 people? I'm sure I can narrow it down somehow.  And between us and our ex-boyfriends, I know exactly who would freak us both out to warrant a call like that!

Well, it was news related to Robert, my first love, and it was the kind of phone call I've been waiting for, for oh, the past 7 years of my life.  It's actually been surprising for me that it's taken THIS long for me to hear news from him.  It's taken THIS long to accidentally get info from him, when my hometown is all of THIS big (not very big if you get my drift).

The news is really not that big.  Jenny was having a garage sale, and Robert's friend comes by to buy some things.  Jenny plays dumb and asks about high school friendships and people they know in common.  She learns that Robert is now working as an electrical engineer way out near the airport and that he commutes about an hour each day for his job. She mentions my name and Robert's friend looks at her cluelessly and says he has no idea who I am. She repeats my name again, and still, there is no sign of recall.  Jenny quickly drops the topic so she can gather more information about Robert, but that was really about it.  He still lives at home with his mom.  His mom is doing fine, healthwise (yes she asked). Annnd that was it. The end.

Throughout our phone conversation, my heart was pounding like you could not believe. Finally.  Finally! After all these years, I am hearing first-hand from my dear friend, some news about Robert that I know is credible.  It's one thing to hear things from Robert's friends when I go home during vacations.  Those girls are his friends. I wouldn't be surprised if they lied and lied to my face.  But to hear it from Jenny? That is a completely different story.  Jenny, I trust. Jenny is my friend through and through.  Jenny has seen me at my worst post-break-up.  And Jenny knows.  I mean, Jenny knows how devastated I have been, and how heartbroken I continue to feel about him, even today.

So... hearing the news from Jenny, albeit small news, is... earth-shattering for me.

When Robert and I were in high school, his passion had always been for graphic design.  He dreamed of working for Pixar and he was so creative, so talented, and just so... artistic.  He saw things I didn't see. He admired things I couldn't begin to appreciate. He was an artist, that was that! And that was probably one of the reasons my dad didn't feel so fond of him.

In college, Robert worked full-time at a real state company and went to school part-time to get his degree in something practical: business. He didn't love it, but he did it for a functional purpose, and it seemed like a good combination with his future degree in art.  In our heads, we envisioned he would someday pursue graphic design. It was simply a matter of timing.

But then we broke up and I didn't know what happened for 4 years after that.  When I contacted him 4 years later to ask about us and to get closure, he updated me on his life to say that he was pursuing a degree in engineering.  He was really embarrassed when he said it, mostly because he was getting his degree from an online school.  He was also doing it not because he felt passionate, and not even because he had any interest in engineering. Instead, he chose the field because it was the best way to make money fast.  Apparently, around the time that we broke up, his mom had been diagnosed with cancer and being a single parent, and him being an only child, he needed to contribute to the medical expenses fast.

I don't know happened after that, although I do wonder (all the time) whether he still dabbles in graphic design.  I also didn't know when he would graduate, and what kind of engineering he would pursue.  The idea of Robert being an engineer just didn't fit.  It still doesn't fit, but I actually have so much more respect for him that he's doing it, and that he did it.

So, as I hear from Jenny that he is currently an employed, salaried engineer, I have so many mixed emotions.

I feel happy for him because he did it.  I am so proud of him that he's accomplished his goal and that he's making money for his mom.  I also feel heartbroken for him and wonder how much he's had to let-go of his dreams.  I wonder if he's happy, if he feels a sense of purpose and meaning in his work.  And I wonder if things are finally more stable now, than when he had to climb and uphill battle pursuing his studies.  Being employed and having a stable job should be relaxing now, right?

And now, here it comes: my expectations.  If Robert is so stable now, and if his mom is doing OK, and if he's attained his goal, then what is he doing/thinking/wanting in his love life?  Is he... dating someone? Is he... in love?  Does he... regret our break-up? Does he still... love me?  And if so, why hasn't he come back to even ask about me?

I recounted Jenny's news to my mom and got a harsh but necessary dose of reality.  My mom said to me, Wow! If Robert's friend doesn't even know your name in the slightest, then it's obvious he doesn't mention you, ever.

Ding ding ding!  100 points for Robert, 0 for me.  Again.

I hadn't even thought about it.  Whereas in my entire circle of friends, practically everyone of them will know Robert's name, and know of his significance in my life, it's clear that I account for exactly nothing in his life.  Even his friend, who I've double-dated with when Robert and I were in high school, couldn't remember me.  Meaning that Robert probably couldn't be bothered to even recollect who I am, either.

At the end of my conversation with mom, she asked me not to let this news have a ripple-effect on my mood.  I shrugged her off and said "no way, this is closure, mom!" But I have been wrong. I have spent the past few days thinking about Robert and feeling very very emotional.  I just looked through all of my posts that are tagged with "first love" and cried and cried.

It is so incredibly painful knowing that you are so small in someone else's world, but they were/are everything in yours.

Randomness of life

Dear blog, thank you for existing.  I have immense gratitude that this "space" exists and I have a place to write, cry, vent, reflect, and not care at all whether I am annoying another person with my troubles.

You know how life throws you random things when you least expect it?

Well, it's been two weeks since B.'s visit and I've been completely focused on school work and finishing up the semester/school year.  I'm on-track, again. I'm eating healthy. This paleo thing is starting to feel natural. I'm starting to feel like I'm back on my routine.  And lastly, Mr. Z. is completing his last obedience training class before we take the test to get him certified as a therapy dog.

Things have been feeling like they are progressing and moving forward.

Except that I suddenly got a call this week from Jenny, telling me news of my first love.  And now I'm emotionally spiraling and pulled-back into the heartaches of my first love and why things are the way they are now.

Random, I know.

Running away

Hi, I'm back.

I know, bad blogger, bad blogger.

Last week, with all that happened, I ran away from journaling, writing, reflecting, or even being mindful.  I couldn't stand to have a pity-party. And I really did not want to feel angry, either. So I decided to stop thinking altogether.

Instead, I threw myself into surviving the week and pretending B. never re-appeared back into my life.  I busied myself with planning Mr. Z's birthday party (yes, I did throw him a bday party), which required cleaning my house, baking a doggy-cake from scratch, buying actual cakes for the humans who are coming, and getting all sorts of party supplies for the big day.

Celebrating Mr. Z's bday got me through the week.  As Penny would day, "Look, he's saving you from B. again."

As absurd as it sounds to throw a birthday party for your dog, I did it!  I judged myself quite harshly throughout the process, and also ridiculed myself in the privacy of my own thoughts.  Here I am, someone who used to fear dogs and to mock those who carted their puppies everywhere.  And now, I am on the other side of the fence, doing exactly what I would have laughed at, merely a year ago.

Wait, who am I again?

But then I remind myself that this is how I love.  Throwing a party for Mr. Z. is not that different from when I threw B. a surprise birthday party 2 years ago.  Being in the foul mood that he was in, and considering he has 0 friends, I invited a group of my pals over for dinner.  He wanted to cook, so I assisted while he showed-off his skills.  I asked Penny to bring over an expensive ice cream cake and I prepared candles so we can surprise him after dinner.  The entire event went off without a hitch, and he was so pleasantly surprised.  It was quite wonderful to make someone happy and it made me feel like I was soaring on cloud now!  Until.... everyone left.  When the party ended, he wanted to alcohol, stat.  That's what happens when he got happy.  ALCOHOL! And when he got sad? ALCOHOL!  And of course, without a car, he wanted me to drive him to pick up liquor. 

Now, for me, there are few things I hate doing.  But liquor runs?

I DETEST liquor runs. 

I feel cheap going on liquor runs and I personally don't like the effect of excessive alcohol in people.  The entire night went from wonderful to bitter.  I ended up driving him to pick up alcohol and dropping him off at home.  I came back alone to my apartment and did all the cleaning up that you do after a party.  We had already yelled and screamed and there was just exhaustion and more exhaustion.  Ah, memories of that party.  How bitter that was, and not at all sweet.

This year, I was so happy to throw a party for Mr. Z. and to clean up for him afterwards.  We sang a birthday song (at my request), we ate cake, we cut his cake, we opened presents, and we laughed at me and this event that I made everyone come for. 

It was absolutely strange and fun!  And when it ended, it was still wonderful and that was a healing experience for me.  It was so reparative to know that I can love and give again, and not be damaged in return.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Mr. Z!

Thank you for coming into my life!

This is just the 1st of many more celebrations to come! :)

Deja Vu

The day after my confrontation with B., I went to school nervously, but was glad not to see him anywhere.

The day following that, I hoped he already left town so I could be at peace again.  How wrong I was.

Because of the anxiety/drain that I felt from his mere presence, I was taking naps all week.  I was trying to avoid reality and to do so by diving into unconsciousness.  When I woke up that afternoon, I got a voicemail from Connie saying she had seen B. and that she had something to show me. In a very short amount of time, I quickly went from groggy to anxiety and fear.  Is he still here? Why is he still here? What is he doing in town now? Hasn't it been 2 days later? Shouldn't he be gone already?

It turns out, Connie had a video to show me.  A video from when she caught B. walking hand-in-hand with a girl just outside our office building that afternoon!  She sent it to me and told me how surprised she was when she walked out the front door and saw him heading down the street (towards her) in broad daylight holding hands with someone else.  Connie had been so surprised she froze and then decided to video record him and this other woman on her phone!  She could not believe the coincidence and she wanted to make sure I know that I had NOTHING to feel guilty for from our last confrontation.  As she talked, she laughed, describing to me the scenario of her video recording him, and him being caught by her and shooting her glaring looks. She's certain that he recognized her.  She quickly sent the video and told me to call her after I watch it.

As I jumped into the car getting ready to buy last-minute groceries, I stopped at a red light and opened-up that video. 

There it was: in broad daylight, B. walking hand-in-hand with a red-headed girl. He's wearing the exact same clothes he had on when I saw him in our last two encounters. He is walking in the same nonchalant way he always walks. And when he sees the video/phone towards him, he glares at the camera person before turning his face down toward the ground.

As I'm watching the beginning of the video, I'm laughing out loud, imagining Connie pulling out her phone in the middle of the day, in the middle of the road, blatantly recording someone walking down the street.  I feel relieved that this video is about another girl rather than of him waiting for me at my office door. I feel liberated that he has moved on and I hope that it means I will finally be left alone by him. I feel such a large burden removed from my shoulder.  I feel like I can breathe again and also not feel guilty for our last conversation. But just as quickly as I laughed and am starting to feel good, I find myself suddenly starting to sob.  No tears come out, but I am heaving heavily and my breath is caught in my throat. My chest hurts, my nose is feeling that soreness before I start to cry, and my eyes are feeling watery and near-explosive. I don't understand what's happening to my body nor do I understand how I am emotionally responding.  Why did I laugh earlier? Why am I about to cry? Why does my heart hurt as though it is breaking again? Why am I so confused, and why don't I understand what is happening within me in this very moment?

I call Connie back and she is feeling celebratory about "catching him" and being able to show me the video. She's so glad to document the scum that he is.  She is shell-shocked about this coincidence and cannot believe he had the audacity to parade a girl around, just 2 days after writing me a note saying he is not dating.  She is certain he is a pathological liar.  And she is completely positive about him being very very mentally sick. She is happy for me and is so happy to share this with me. This should be wonderful evidence for me to feel better. Now I don't have to feel bad about our last conversation.  And now, I should be even more convinced that leaving him was the best thing I did. I agree with her--rationally.  Emotionally, however, I want to join her enthusiasm but I can't. I can't catch up to that enthusiasm and I need time to understand how I'm feeling first. I tell her I'll call her back and then I start driving.  And shopping. I wander the aisles in the grocery store and grab what I need. When I realize it's 9pm and I'm incredibly hungry, I stop by at a very new and already-famous burger joint.  It's already closing-time so I am the last customer waiting in line.  I order a burger and sit alone trying to eat console my body. Even after eating the entire thing, I'm still not ready to go home, so I go to another grocery store.  I head to a 24-hour grocery store this time and wander down every single aisle.  I call Penny. I call my mom. I tell them about the video and then I begin to openly cry.

In my car is where I cry.  But also in the store.  I tell them how mixed I feel and how confused I am. Although I am relieved on the one hand, I feel so betrayed on the other. I am experiencing deja vu, and it's like a sick sick game being replayed over for me.  2 years ago, I had gotten a similar message right after I caught him cheating with someone else.  It had been a Wednesday when I first caught him cheating.  And it was on that Friday that we went to couples counseling.  On Saturday afternoon, he called to say he was going to walk to the coffee shop for some coffee, and a few hours later, Penny called and apologetically gave me the devastating news.  Penny said sorry a few times and then said that she was at the park with her family.  She said she thought she saw me and B. together and had run up to say hi to us.  Before reaching "us", she realized that it was B. with another girl.  She saw him hold hands with this girl and before he looked up to see her.  When B. saw Penny, he quickly shoved that girl away, but she ran back to him to hold his hands. In the same way that B. had looked downward at the groun,d he did the same when walking past Penny. He avoided eye contact altogether and walked away as briskly as possible. I remember that when Penny told me this over the phone, her voice began to crack and she began to cry. She told me not to forgive him, not to listen to his sorry excuses, and not to let him into my life again.  This infidelity was not the same as Wednesday's discovery.  This girl he's cheating with was not the same girl I caught just 2 days ago.  This was someone completely different and it was within a span of 2 days that he was doing it. We had just gone to couples counseling the day before, and already, I was being lied to, again.  Once, twice, three times, who knows how many more lies there are?!

So.... that is my deja vu when I see this video.  Penny hadn't taken a video last time, but her words were just as good as my eyes. Within seconds of her call, B. had called and I had ignored about 10 of his calls before I finally picked up. He apologized first and then lied some more. He insisted that the girl was a friend and that Penny saw wrong. He concocted story after story after story. I won't delve into the details of that story in this post. That is a long long story for a different day. For now, it just triggered everything, in the same way an avalanche crashes and drowns you.

This video triggered me and continues to trigger my memories and my emotions.  What the hell, man. I thought I was broken before and that I was starting to heal now.  I thought I had hit rock bottom and that I was trying to climb back up.  I thought I was making good progress and starting to forget about this person and the pain he inflicted on me.  HECK, I thought this person would no longer be in my life and much more, I thought he could no longer ever ever hurt me. 

Boy, I was so wrong.  Boy was I ever so wrong... in every one of these questions, I was dead wrong.