I am losing count of the long nights that I stay up for and listen to M talk about himself and his problems, which result in me lying on my bed with the covers over my head crying myself to sleep. One part of me doesn’t know why I do it, the affection, the desire for him are no longer there. That’s been taken care of - desire can’t exist when someone no longer wants to be with that person. So I guess it’s the grief and the loss. I deal with most of this by not acknowledging it. That’s a really healthy approach… not.
I’ve stayed with him as a shield against being alone and being single, once again, not fair or healthy, which is why I made the break for freedom just before Christmas. This morning he comes in and tells me that he’s told the first of one of our close friends. They talked about everything, what will happen to him, the things they can do together, places they go, names.. She’s very accepting of it. I think for a moment I hated her. I wanted to be that person. The one who it wasn’t happening to, but had a good friend going through it and I wanted to be the supporting one.
The fucker told me all of this before work, leaving me very little time to get ready, and I went to work looking like a wreck, with wet hair, crumpled clothes and slightly red eyes and a need to scream at idiots on the phone. I refrained from screaming at people, but I did go for a walk at morning tea time, and buy the biggest chocolate muffin they had. I cried when I was eating the muffin, so I threw it in the bin, and went back to work, and spoke to a friend about everything, and cried again. Luckily not too many people noticed. Amazing since it is in a call centre.. or maybe they were being polite.
And talking to him tonight, it’s all about him. I listen to him, and I know it’s important - and it’s all him, but I sit here and hear him talk about suicide rates for people experiencing his difficulties, and still a small voice says “what about me?” I am scared that I will fade away into nothingness. I dont know what I am grieving for. I wonder why I still cry - I used to say I love you everything night to him until I knew that we weren’t going to work out. So three years down the track, I sob after each “chat”
X, my old boss thinks I am just so strong. “poor lori, how is she coping” I am barely keeping it together. I pull myself together before going to work, smile and laugh and help people with pissy problems, go home, if I am lucky, I avoid M. If not, I have to talk to him, hear him talk more about his issues, and cry. I want to move out, but the compassionate person in me knows he can’t afford that, so I stay. I am so moving out when I get back from my trip overseas.
The stress is starting to show on my face, I look tired and my skin is crap, and I am just not taking very good care of myself. I try and keep my friends happy by telling them what they want to hear, and not what they need to. I have lost interest in alot of things of late. I know I am sliding into depression. I don’t know how to stop it. I feel schitzophrenic.
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