Late Night Fear Musings

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Tonight I was feeling a bit frustrated because I felt that I needed to talk to someone, and the person I had hoped to talk to (my significant other) was too tired and did not reply to my message. But then I got confused as to why this frustrated me because why did I need someone to talk to again? When in the past have I been in this situation? Certainly not recently. 

My deepest thoughts, feelings, and worries are exchanged in conversation with only myself, and although it may not be the best situation, that’s how it’s been, so why was I feeling like it was such an unpleasant thing? And besides, that’s what this space is for, anyway. (Hence, here I am, typing away.)

I think once again I am missing Bo and the way I was able to tell him everything. I hate how much I think about him now that I am in a new relationship, but I don’t have much other standards, and I think often about the feeling of being in love. I came to a point where I tried to stop thinking about our relationship as something so negative and destructive and to cherish our good times. I am not sure if that is what I am doing right now or if it is unhealthy for the certain behaviors to be replaying in my mind. Perhaps it is not bad if I am wanting those things, but in another person, and I am hoping those things will happen, but am I? Yeah, sometimes I imagine my new significant other being there for me like Bo was, but sometimes I do just imagine Bo. I think of messaging him for something, anything, I think of what I would do if he told me he missed me, etc. I don’t have an answer to what would happen in those instances and I know the chance of it is so low anyway. It is scary to be missing him again when I am in a position where his role can be replaced. These thoughts make me scared and they make me want to cry.

I think I am curious of the idea of falling in love with someone again, or if I am capable of being loved to that extent again, and as badly as I was burned in the past, I crave it so badly. As much as it would be bad for me, I crave it. As much as it wouldn’t work with my future, I crave it. As unhealthy as it would be for me in my current state, I still fucking crave the feeling of being romantically in love and obsessed with another human being. I would love to be in love, and I am far too vulnerable for my own good. But then again, I have contradictions in my mind that say no, I definitely don’t want to ever be in love with this person at all. Then moreso arrives the dread of me realizing I may be the only side in this relationship thinking these thoughts and that maybe he does not care for me as much as I care for him, and that is truly terrifying. It is such a risky position to be in a relationship, which makes it feel even more scary and unstable when you’re not sure if your feelings are matched.

I wonder if I ever really recovered from my codependency. My therapist in the beginning had given me that word and the resulting information and book that came with it. I guess I never really read the whole thing through. Maybe it’s time to.

The curiosity swells in me if Bo is in a relationship or not. But I know I cannot know. I feel tempted all the time and pulled to check social media and find out. But it becomes a non option. I’m proud of myself for that resistance, especially since there was a time I was so tied to it I felt I had no control over my online stalking habits. 

It is windy outside tonight and I live in a shitty apartment, so I can feel the breeze just a bit coming from the window despite the fact that it’s shut and I’ve put tape and silly putty and grocery bags all around the side—basically everything but actual caulk.

I feel tired which is a good thing, but it is still much later than I wish to be awake. The reason I blame this on is that I have slept very well in the past two nights, and honestly there is no way my body would have allowed me a third. It knows me too well, and I’ve been conditioned to torture myself. I wonder if I will ever break out of this cycle or if I even want to. Am I happy? I guess you can say I’m relatively content with how shit is going, and I don’t really want to fuck with it.

Everyone is pushing me very hard to do an intensive outpatient program (IOP). I have run out of any good reasons not to do it. All I have left is that I just don’t want to, and even that is a shitty thing to say, because it implies I am fine with being depressed. Am I? I go back and forth on this and it’s scary to think about how complacent you get. Am I afraid that if I become happier I won’t have these deep, contemplative thoughts anymore? (I’m pretty sure that’s bullshit though). I have never known myself as anyone who is anything but sad for most of my short life, which is the real danger of adolescent depression, I think. You forget what it’s like to be happy. No, I am not fine with being depressed, but I still don’t want to do it. I just don’t. What more do you want from me? Fuck off. Please.

____

Image by The Man Machine on Flickr CC. 

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