What will happen to us?

I've been preoccupied all week, wondering when Jay is graduating and what will happen afterwards. When I think about it, 2 feelings rise from within me:

1. Sadness
2. Anger

Why sadness? Because I feel certain about us breaking up. He will either leave me or we will be in a long-distance relationship.  He may be in a different country, a different state, a different city for sure. I'd have to re-experience long-distance again, similar to my first-ever relationship.

Feelings of anger also come up because I feel angry we haven't talked about what happens to us when he graduates. I spent so much time and energy cultivating the language to talk to the men I was dating last year. I would tell them on date 2, in month 2 at the very least, that I was leaving and to check-in on how they felt that would impact our relationship.  Jay has not done that. He has not asked for any of my input about my future. Leaving me to wonder if he even cares about our future. Am I in his?

Anger and sadness fuse together into one blazing ball of... pain. Hot tears burst out of me and I find myself unable to stop sobbing.

Why am I always the one initiating the conversation on "What happens next for us?"
Why hasn't anyone else ever cared, much less cared enough to ask me?

When B. was about to graduate and was planning his future a few months beforehand, I had asked him what will happen to us. He told me he could not guarantee the future nor give me a final answer about us. He "hate[s] long-distance." That's what he said, and we had already been in a 2-year relationship.  It was too painful accept then, but he was telling me:

"Goodbye dumb girl! I've been using you for the last 2 years while I'm here, and once I get to leave here, then it's good riddance to you too!"

If someone I was with for 2 years could leave me like that, then why wouldn't Jay (who I've only dated for 4 months) also say sayonara, baby! What else am I supposed to expect?
And if he anticipates long-distance dating, then why hasn't be bothered to have a conversation with me about it?
Am I supposed to just agree to it?  Because that's not how it's worked out for me when I've been the one to leave.

In my scenarios, all of the guys have gotten up and said "thanks, but not thanks" and then walked out of my life. How can he expect, without even talking to me, that I'll just say, "OK" and not even care about me or how I feel?

(photo courtesy from Tips to consider before entering a long-distance relationship)

Confrontation

I actually ran-into B. in the parking lot today.  I choose to believe it was an accidental encounter, although I wouldn't be that surprised if he had planned it.

I stood in shock and exasperation as he started laughing and saying what a coincidence it was. He laughed for a long time. As he laughed and commented on seeing my car and also parking 2 spaces away from my car, I looked up at the sky and said to myself, "ugh, I must be cursed." When I asked what he wanted from me, he said it was a coincidental run-in and completely unplanned. He asserted that he didn't even call me! And then he laughed some more. I coldly told him to "keep it that way" and started shuffling my feet to prepare to leave. In seconds, he was within arm's reach attempting to give me a huge hug.  I quickly jumped back and stuck my hand out to maintain the distance between us. As seriously I could, I enunciated every word: "Do. not. touch. me. " He laughed as though I said a joke and he looked confused. True to my understanding of him, he acted like we were long-lost friends and asked me how I'm doing. He didn't take "fine" for an answer. He kept asking me, "really? really?" as though I couldn't possibly be fine.  When I asked him what he wanted from me, he repeated that he wanted nothing because we were actually running into each other by accident in the parking lot. Our encounter probably lasted less than 2 minutes but it felt like much longer. I know that within that time, he tried again to hug me.  And again, I moved quickly and asserted that I did not want him even near me, much less touch me. I don't remember what happened in the end, just that I said goodbye and left.  I know he kept talking.  I know he said things like "take care" or blah blah blah but I couldn't bother to listen.  I just needed out, away. I just wanted him to be far far away.  As I walked and heard his voice in the distance, I felt scared but also liberated. This is it, right?  This has to be the last encounter, right? I'm making it crystal clear, aren't I? He won't follow me because he's finally getting it, right?

For some reason, I don't think I'm in the clear yet. I still have 1 more day before he supposedly leaves my state/city/workplace. At any given time, I fear he will show up. I fear he will corner me. I fear he will touch me and impose himself on me. When I think about what I'm most scared of, I think about that feeling of being trapped, stuck, dirty, and helpless. After our encounter today, I also realize that I fear exactly what I feel now: empathy, pity, and even guilt.

Following our confrontation, I had meeting-after-meeting-after meeting. I had such a headache that I took the afternoon off and returned home for a nap. I was just so tired. So frickin' tired and so avoidant of my feelings. I've spent the entire afternoon wondering if I was too mean. Wondering if I hurt his feelings. Wondering if he feels ambushed by my coldness and if I was uncharacteristically cruel.

The logical side of me knows I had to be clear, consistent, and cold. I want nothing to do with him, and every inch I give him will become part of what he takes from me.  B. does not take no for answer. He can smell weakness and he knows how to take advantage of when a woman softens. Being the professional womanizer that he is, I know that being cruel is the only way for this to work. But in my heart-of-hearts, I also hate that I've had to change myself to respond to somoene. I hate having to be so out-of-character, so angry, so hurt, so sad, and so weak that I have to be mean instead of be peaceful from within.

Today, I am far from feeling peaceful. I feel disappointed, sad, and a little hopeless. I feel like all these weeks and even month(s) of growth were pointless.  I don't even know if I ever moved forward.  I feel enveloped in sadness and I am feeling so vividly, that angst I felt when I was with him.  It is a mixture of sadness, confusion, anger, fear, guilt, all mixed together and sapping every little bit of my identity and motivation. I am in it, once again.  I feel like I am drowning once again.  I just want to crawl into my covers once again.

Taking care of others too much

A few days ago, I re-experienced feelings I had when I was with B. -- feelings of resentment, anger, feeling stuck, helpless, and also frustration towards him and myself.

It happened when a friend invited himself to cook at my place.  This friend, who I will call Will, messaged me out of the blue to say he wants to cook and is dying to learn some of my dishes. We had met 5 years ago at an event that I hosted, and we had struck up great conversation and had lots of laughs.  In truth, I don't know much about him or vice versa, but since he was so insistent on cooking together, I eventually said OK and then went shopping for all the groceries we would need for our weekend cook-fest.

Despite feeling stressed about all my schoolwork, I figured we'd spend about 3-4 hours cooking and eating together.  In the end, Will came and we cooked and we had a great time for about.. 5 hours. But then he stayed even after the dishes were cleared, after the dishes were washed, and after I packed him food to take home!  He invited himself to do his homework here.  And the whole time he talked on and on and on and on about his relationship woes and about what he wants with his life.

Don't me wrong, I love to hear what's happening with friends and to catch up. I love cooking too, and the combination of friends + food is usually heavenly for me!  But Will drained me.  Will's entire visit drained me. He didn't help much in the kitchen because he refused to touch raw meat. He didn't offer to help me with dishes (at least fake offer), and he invited himself to stay and ended up being in my place for 9 hours! I had to feed him dinner too, and when he left and took some food home, he didn't even say thanks.  That was the worst part.  He didn't even say thank you.

After Will left, I was infuriated with myself. I was so resentful and angry and frustrated-- all at myself.  Why was I such a good hostess even when I wanted him out of the house so that I could recharge by myself and do my work? Why did I continuously offer him more drinks and ask about his comfort when he was already overstaying his visit?  Why did I focus so much on his comfort rather than my own-- because I was damn well uncomfortable with him being here for SOOOOO long!

Those feelings are what I had with B., toward the end, the middle, and maybe even the beginning of the relationship.

I was NEVER fully comfortable with B.  He was always so picky, so nit-picky, so judgmental, so critical, so condescending, so insulting, so negative... I could never fully be comfortable because I was always wanting him to feel more content/comfortable/happy.  I always catered to his needs while feeling like I was walking on pins and needles myself.  Being with him was like holding my breath and continuously reminding myself: "Just do a good job, cater to his needs, and then when he leaves, then he'll be gone so you can focus on you!"  I always wanted a good ending; a good parting.  I wanted him to have an awesome experience so that when it's over, he will have positive memories.  I never considered myself in the equation-- my needs were on the back-burner... waiting until his needs are met and when he leaves-- that I can finally attend to myself.

The worst part of it all is the inconsistent and conflicting feelings I had inside and on the outside.  The more I resented him, the more I wanted out of the relationship, the more I realized how terrible he was as a human being... the more I catered to his needs.  As if I hadn't bent-over-backwards enough to begin with, I did it 10 times more once I realized how much I despised him in my heart.
The worse I felt on the inside, the more attentive I became to his needs.  Why? I don't know.  I have racked my head again and again and again, and I simply don't know.  All I can hypothesize is that I knew it would be over and I wanted a good ending.  I wanted some sort of harmony and positive memory before the chapter would end.

Also, I think I wanted to have no regrets.  I didn't want to walk away and wonder later if I could have tried harder.  I didn't want to regret not giving 100000% of myself at the end and wondering if it would have made a difference.

In this way, I suppose it makes sense that I ignore my needs and take care of others first. It's something I really want to work on and to eventually stop doing.  It's something I want to change because it's entirely unhealthy. I am split apart into 2 halves: both on extreme ends of the spectrum and both equally intense.  That inconsistency is not healthy and I want to have congruency.  I want my inside (feelings) to match my outside (expression/behavior). That's healthy.  That's wholesome.

Working out

I have been working out routinely for the past 3 weeks! Going to the gym, taking bootcamp courses, hiring a private instructor... this is all new for me!  In the past, I have hated working out.  I have avoided it at all costs, and I have had very very good reasons to!  My congenital health issues have made it hard to work out.  But having undergone surgery 10 years ago, I've since been able to do anything others can do.  I just... don't know how to do them.  Don't know how to use muscles that I haven't used before!

My decision to work out this time-- very proactively might I add -- is because I want to improve my relationship with myself.  I want to invest time, energy, resources, and hope in myself.  For so long, I've neglected myself, including what makes my body feel good, and what makes me feel good and healthy.  I am seeking out exercise for this reason, and this reason only.

What a stark contrast that is to my past goals!  Before, if/when I ever worked out, it would be for unrealistic goals of looking like a pageant queen in 4 weeks.  I worked out so that I could be skinnier, less chubby, more pretty, more attractive.  I motivated myself by thinking of the gym as a place of punishment: you are fat, you must burn it off.  I was extreme in my behaviors, and even worse, I placed unrealistic expectations toward the final outcome.  After 1 workout, I would want to see results.  I would expect to lose weight, or feel like my clothes are looser, or I would hope others would comment on me being smaller.  None of that happened by the way.  I would also be very restrictive in my eating, and eventually, when I didn't see results, I would give it all up and start binge-eating!  I'd eat everything I want without any control. Now that's extreme.

Which is why this time around, my whole workout journey/adventure is completely different. This time, I'm working out to reward myself, to focus on myself, to pay attention to my own needs (rather than someone else's).  I am carving time out of my schedule for me.  I am also making meals specifically for me. I don't have to compromise, sacrifice, or build up any resentment because of someone else.  I can eat what I want, work out when I want, and sleep whenever I want. It's absolutely wonderful and already, I feel health(ier), happ(ier), more hope-filled and more at peace than I have ever felt before.

My feelings of content are so strong these days.  It is probably because my lifestyle is SO different from when I was with B.  I no longer have to sleep very late because of him and his irregular sleep cycle. I also don't have to binge-eat large meals and then skip meals because he has strange eating habits that I can surely describe as disordered eating.  The content of my meals are also healthier! I can eat garlic, I can make things with tomatoes (which he hated), I can cut down on carbs and just eat protein (he wants rice with his meals when we make curry), and I can also decide what I want to do and when I want to do it without him being whiny, judgmental, or condescending.  That's been a very liberating change.  In the past, if I were to do fun things without him, B. would punish me afterwards by being mean, emotionally unpredictable, and even at times being purposefully provoking.  I distinctly remember when I left town to visit family during Winter Vacation last year.  I had spent a lot of time preparing for our family yard sale, and when I told him all about it, he had said, "Work? You work? You don't work, you're lazy."  We had a humongous fight over his insulting words, and he later confessed that he was upset that I was having fun with family while he was alone and doing his work.  Can you imagine anyone else more selfish? Keep in mind that when I left town, I invited him home with me and he chose not to come.  Furthermore, when I asked if he would miss me (because of course I would miss him), he said "No, I'll be too busy working because I have so much to get done."

Yeaaaaah OK. You're busy. You work hard. And everyone else bum around and do nothing. Enjoy your fantasy world and continue to torture yourself while we live happy, well-balanced lives.

In retrospect, I am soo happy to be single. I am so happy to be OUT of that relationship with B., and OUT of the dysfunction that he creates for himself.  GOOD RIDDANCE TO HIM and GOOD RIDDANCE to all his baggage as well. Yesterday was Valentine's day, and I can honestly say that it was one of the best days ever because I was very aware of how happy and content I felt being on my own and feeling liberated, empowered, and striving to be even more healthy and peaceful.

I'm continuing my goals to work on me and to improve my relationship with myself! Go, me!

Disgust

I feel disgusted by B.
Having been broken-up for exactly 7 months (as of yesterday-- wow!), I don't understand why he keeps trying to be connected with me.  In as many social networking sites as possible, he's been showing up in my email inbox, with headings that say "_____ wants to be in your circle!"  Whether it's a professional networking site or just a personal group, like google plus, he's been adamant about pushing his way in.  Much like before, he is not taking "no" for an answer and he is imposing himself into my life, my space.

This feeling is similar to that of being... raped.  I don't mean to offend anyone who actually has been a survivor and a victim of physical rape.  But I feel so invaded, so powerless, so targeted, and so disgusted.  I feel disgusted at him and at myself for having been with him and continuing to be something he wants in his life.

This time around, I am different. I will not succumb to him because he wants it.  In the past, when I have said "no no no no no", he had ignored me altogether and continued to do what pleases him. When I have said "let's break up", he will act like I never said it and come back the next day all smiles.  When I have caught him cheating with other women, he will also act like it never happened.  When we have gotten into huge blow-out fights, he will ask me 1) if I'm upset and 2) what is wrong? -- because he hasn't got a clue as to why I'm not super happy.  That's the manipulative thing about B.  Does he really not know?  Or does he feign not-knowing so he can masquerade happiness in his own life-- and impose that fakeness into mine?

In truth, I tried to break up with him several times before officially cutting ties 7 months ago.  In most of the times that we got back together-- it wasn't necessarily because I wanted to be together.  It was because he wouldn't let go of me, and he wouldn't let me live my life until he was back in it.  I felt so stuck. I felt so so trapped.  My "no"s have never meant anything to him, and I feel a familiar sense of sickness in my stomach when he does the same thing today--- except in cyberspace.

My greatest fear is that he will show up at my door one day.  He will have a genuine, heartfelt smile plastered on his face, and he will run up to me arms wide open being ever so happy to see me.  He will want to touch, hug, and tell me how great it is to see me.  I know with 100000% certainty he will act like nothing has happened and that I haven't been so severely damaged by him and our ex-relationship.  And as for my emotional responses?  I will freeze.  I will want to squeeze into myself so that I am not touched by him. I will feel dirty and disgusted by him.  I will also feel invalidated for all the heartache and resentment I've experienced throughout the relationship-- because his avoidance of it will be his way of saying that my pain didn't happen.  His avoidance altogether is his way of erasing a history that has been so salient during the past 2 years of my life.

The thought of this scenario makes my skin crawl.  As I am typing, my stomach is tightening up and my heart is pounding faster and louder. I feel an intense warmth spreading throughout my abdomen-- a very powerful sense of... anger, maybe? frustration?  Nono, it's anger alright.  I want to shove him far far away from me, whether it's in cyberspace or in real life.  I want to never see him again, never hear him again, never have to co-exist in the same place as him.  My anger has come alive, after 2 years of being with a womanizer.  My anger, as of recently, is finally here.

Diminishing Anger

While walking to my car today, I thought about B. and wondered how he was doing.  Over the last few weeks, I've stopped thinking about him.  More specifically, I stopped having strong feelings for him, whether it is heartache, anger, disgust, or any other form of intense emotion.

As I was walking today, I realized I don't care about him.  I don't care whatsoever.  Now that's a weird feeling to have.  I've never experienced apathy towards someone before!

So I went one step further to test myself some more.  I wondered to myself,  what if he were depressed and living a very sad life right now?  Would you care then?  To which, I was surprised to find that my answer was no!

Now that is unusual.

In the past, whenever I think about an ex being less fortunate than me, my overwhelming feelings of pity will rise above me and I will start thinking about them.  Is he OK?  What's wrong?  Does he need me? Should I be there to make his life better?  Would my presence increase the quality of his life?  If so, then how can I be so far away and unavailable?  How can he live without me? I have to reach out to him.

Strangely enough, I didn't have these feelings toward B. today and I am pretty certain that he is OK and that he will be OK.  Granted, he struggles with depression, I'm sure.  Heck, he struggles with a myriad of issues probably including an eating disorder as well as episodes of mania. It's actually because of these reasons that I stuck-around so long and gave him so many chances.  Because he is so unstable, I thought that he just needed more patience, love, and understanding from me.  At the outset, I didn't realize that his unhealthiness was taking a toll on me.  I hadn't fully recognized the mental unhealthiness he was inflicting onto me. As though I didn't have enough baggage of my own to begin with!

So! Today, I feel liberated from my previous patterns of recalling an ex-boyfriend. I'm not concerned with his mental health and I have no desire to save him from his own emotional roller coaster ride.  Gone are my tendencies to be a savior to a loved one.  No longer do I feel the compulsion to rush to his side to tend to his weaknesses and nurse him back to health.  I don't have to do that.  I don't want to do that.  I don't need to do that.  It's not expected of me to do that.

I suppose my anger is still there, it's just diminished these days.  I can finally accept B. for who he is these days. I now know that if B. is feeling low, he will not let himself be alone any longer than he needs to.  He will drink until he blacks out.  And he will destroy his house in his drunken stupor and become physically violent without knowing it.  He will certainly find some random woman to sleep with. It's not an emotional connection that he wants, just a warm body in the middle of the night.  He does not want a soulmate, just sex.  Just someone that will keep the loneliness at bay. As soon as he's done with her, he'll move on.  He'll immerse himself into his professional work and discard her like an object until he's lonely next time.  By then, he will have found another woman to objectify.  Another woman to use and abuse.  It's sad, really. Deep down, B. will be perpetually lonely in his heart.  But in physical terms, he will never be, because he is constantly fishing.  He has multiple hooks out at all times and he is always baiting, baiting, and baiting some more.  When he senses movement on one line, he pursues her.  And if another line wiggles, he will seek her out too.  He is constantly on the hunt, preying on women, seeking unlimited companionship from whoever will bite on his line.  That is the lifestyle he wants and that's what he's familiar with. Who's to say that my attempts to living a meaningful life is what he wants?  Who's to say that everyone wants a meaningful relationship like I do?

Accepting who B. is gives me enough anger, hurt, and acceptance (of reality) to stop caring and to stop have intense emotions associated with him.  That's part of the healing process, right?

Reclaiming my identity

Instead of feeling humiliated so often, I'm going to title my entries: "Reclaiming my identity".
It sure beats a title like: "Humiliating memories Part I, II, III" don't you think?  So even after I feel a multitude of emotions, I will remind myself that admitting these memories can be a way for me to reclaim my history and my identity. So, here goes.

Memory 1
I drove by B.'s old apartment the other day and was triggered by a memory of us having a BBQ early in the summer, about a month or two before we broke up.  It was a double-date BBQ with his colleague and his colleague's wife.  We had a picnic set up on the grass and were sitting cross-legged on the blanket. I can't remember the details, but either B. or I asked the couple about their story: how they met, how they knew they were made for each other, all that romantic jazz.  The story was cute and funny but I was not able to give them my full attention.  Throughout their story-telling, I kept wondering what we would say when they me and B. about our relationship. I assumed, according to social convention, that they would ask! I thought they'd want to know how we met, what we made us like each other, etc. etc.  I was quite curious to hear what B. would say. I was also preparing myself to say good things about him from when we first met and when I had been swept off my feet.

But they never asked us about our relationship.  It was pretty awkward that they didn't, actually. So it felt quite hurtful.  I assume B. must have talked to his friend about us. He probably told them I am NOT the girl of his dreams and that he does not foresee a long-distance relationship with me.  I envision he made it clear to them that our relationship was not important enough to ask and that I'm not particularly special in his life. After 2 years of dating, you'd think that.  But I just had this feeling that he probably has made it blatantly clear that I'm no one special.

That night, B. and I got in a fight.  I don't remember the content of the fight, but I will never forget what he said.  He referred to his friend's story of how he met his wife and used it to highlight how pitiful he is not to have that with me.  His friend had said that that no matter how stressful work is, how mean his advisors are, or how badly his day is going, seeing his wife at the end of the day makes it all OK. I remember tearing up when he said this because I believe that! I always envisioned relationships to be this way and and I have strived to be like that counterpart for B.

Anyways, when B. and I were fighting, he brought up this point and gave me a woe-is-me story that he doesn't have what his friend has.  He said almost-verbatim: "The whole time I was listening him talk about their relationship and how he feels about his wife, I thought about us and how I don't feel that way about you.  I want that so much, and its sad I don't have that."

I'm pretty sure my heart shattered to pieces when I heard that.

---

When I think back to this conversation with him, I want to literally crawl into a hole and close my eyes forever.  I can't imagine looking in a mirror to see my face because I hate myself for letting him say that to me. I hate myself for being with someone who pities himself and is hurting me simultaneously. He hasn't seen any of the efforts I made to be the best girlfriend ever.  He doesn't care that I have given up so much for him, that I am at his beck-and-call, that I do basically everything for him.  That conversation was brutal.  It was like he carved out my heart with a sharp piece of broken glass.  What kind of boyfriend says that to his girlfriend? That I don't make him happy, that seeing me doesn't bring him contentment? That his life is sad because he met a girl that just doesn't do it for him.

I'm livid with myself for not walking out of that conversation and saying goodbye to him forever at that exact point in time.  I remember thinking that way.  I remember the anger and humiliation at the time, and that anger and humiliation is very pervasive even now.  These feelings are what randomly charge into my life, in the middle of driving down the street, taking a walk, or right before bed.  I hate myself because I couldn't leave him. What happened is that I died a little more on the inside.  During his monologue, I'm sure I cried and I'm sure that he didn't understand why I cried.  Because his impression was that he is the victim because he's not with the woman of his dreams.  So what am I? Something to pass the time?  Looking back, I wish I could have done something crazily dramatic and left.  I envision it would have been violent too, but that really isn't me.  It just hurt so bad, it was so humiliating, and I hate myself for letting him talk to me like that.

Unfortunately, such a conversation is not the first (or last) conversation in which he humiliated me and made me feel like a temporary and deficient object used to pass the time.  It's one of many and it has been popping into my head left and right these days.  It makes me hate him, it makes me hate me, it makes me feel so embarrassed that I want to disappear into a hole forever.

Humiliation

Most of the time, I go about my day feeling fine.  Being productive, being active, enjoying the moment, enjoying my life.  But in random, unpredictable moments when I am triggered by a memory of B. and the relationship, I can explode into tears immediately and not even know why until I sit and process it for a good long while.

I cry because I remember and because I feel humiliated.
I have so many humiliating memories of our relationship. I feel that he has humiliated me to the utmost degree: in front of him, in front of others, and worst of all, in front of myself.  They say that when a man cheats, the wife is usually the last to know.  What that means is that everyone else knows, whispers, wonders, speculates.  The wife becomes a show.  A sad show and maybe even an entertaining show.  That's how I feel.  I feel like my life, over the past 2 years was an objectified show and I never knew it all that time.

Because I was triggered so much by memories of me that feel utterly humiliating, I didn't journal last week. At all.  Not in my handwritten journal, and not online either. Why? Because I couldn't begin to write/type. I felt like putting-it-down-in-writing makes it real.  And at that point, I don't want any of these memories to be real.  I don't want the "me" in that relationship to be real because I don't like her or respect her, and I personally feel embarrassed by her and for her.
I am quite mean to myself, I realize.  And it's because of these reasons that I couldn't write.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful therapist who lets me talk and cry and talk some more.  I don't really have that in my life, and it's rare for me to just sit and talk.  Usually, I let others talk, I fit my conversations into something relevant for others, and I avoid taking up all of the time and attention because it makes me feel like a spotlight-hogger and a narcissist.

But I have so many words and emotions that overwhelm me.  They pour out of me that unintentionally and without my permission. Without my awareness, they seep into my day to day life and they force me to cry. As hard as I try to control all of this, I believe that my body is telling me talk.  Feel. Express.  Let it out somehow.

But I can't guarantee that I'll do this well.  That I'm even doing this surprises me and is a significant challenge for me.  I can't promise to be consistent with this endeavor and I will probably struggle immensely trying to write out the memories/triggers.  But I'll try.