Looking back

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I didn’t mean to fall in love. It wasn’t something I wanted or needed, but it kind of crept up on me and took over when I least expected it.

There was an easiness to how it happened, it grew along with the new friendship which was both intriguing and exciting in equal measures. It filled me with happiness but it also filled me with dread, bringing back old demons, the fear or revealing myself to someone again after having been hurt so many times before.

I tried to resist, but other people could see the change in me and bouyed by their enthusiasm and his assurances that he was different from other guys, I started to believe that this could be something, could become something. Hope crept in and with it love. Love for his values and the things he believed in. Love for the person he was and how he made me feel.

Still though, despite his assurances and the good wishes of my friends, I had my doubts. I would tell him that I did not think I was the girl for him, but that’s my problem with self confidence isn’t it, I don’t think I am the girl for anyone. He would tell me to give us a chance, and I did.

He told me he loved me once, but by the next day I knew he had regretted it. I asked him never to tell me again, unless he actually meant it. In that respect we were and are very different people. I love my friends and will tell them often, he deems love to be something for family or a partner, it seems he will never tell me he loves me as a friend. That makes me sad.

My love wasn’t reciprocated. When we met, although I knew he liked me, he said his feelings were not strong enough. I didn’t feel he gave us a chance, he feels he did, there is no middle ground. I do however know the problems that would come with this, a long distance relationship, so in some way I can understand.

We still talk almost every day but I think I view the friendship differently than he does. Sometimes it feels very one sided and almost like he sticks around because he doesn’t want to break my heart all over again. My self confidence issues also cause many problems, because despite his assurances I cannot believe he wants to be friends with me.

I have no idea what will happen, but being in a friendship where feelings are stronger for one person than the other is very difficult. I’ve told him if and when he meets someone else that I think I will have to walk away, because I am not sure my heart could cope.

Perhaps with the benefit of counselling my feelings will change and I will be able to rationalise my thinking. I hope so, I don’t want to lose him, but at the minute I just don’t know how to stop loving him.

Why do I write?

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Here as with other places I have had to jot down my thoughts and feelings I constantly ask myself why I write.

Sometimes I like looking back and reading about where I was at a certain time and place, remembering how I felt and how I coped with that particular situation.

Other times though I cringe, especially when I see related posts, read them and realise they are almost identical to what I have just written. It always seems to be the same theme and thought processes, does this mean I never move on.

My life is ordinary, I am nothing remarkable or special, so on a day to day I would not have much to tell you about my comings and goings. What I do have though are feelings, in abundance and these I do need to talk about, because while they rattle around in my wonky top box I can never seem to make sense of them, but somehow when I write about them I can.

I hate sometimes that people think bloggers write for sympathy, that is one thing I do not need. Nor do I need pity, I suffer from mental health issues, I am not a problem, in fact I am trying to be my own solution.

I don’t actually write for anyone else, I write for myself, but still despite that, I find myself restricting my words, because I am scared of being judged. It’s not a competition. I have not even had enough time yet to spread my wings much outside of my blog to see who else even exists.

I write because I want to and I need to. It’s important that on days when I feel like I can’t talk to anyone else I can talk to myself, in a manner of speaking. I need to remind myself about the bad times and also the good times, those small seemingly insignificant little moments that we forget make us smile.

I write because there are a million things to say and while not all of those things will ever be written down, I hope that I can capture some.

All these little things will make up a life lived and a journey travelled. My journey.

Monday Mornings

There is much to think about and much to say, my head is awash with things that I am finding it hard to make sense of. Still I question, analyze and question some more, instead of just letting things be.

I took the first step towards making myself better, I asked if I could be considered for counselling again. It’s not something I particularly want, but it is certainly something I need. This constant battle with myself and my self confidence is going to drag me under if I don’t learn to swim.

I will never be free or able to love someone else if I cannot even like myself. The old saying is true, we are our own worst enemies.

There’s just something about Monday mornings.

Over thinking

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There is a lot of stuff in between where I was and where I currently am. Lots of  tears and laughter, happiness and heartache. Ultimately, I feel everything is going to end in heartache. 

I battle with self confidence. I have none. I never see a positive outcome in things and often believe my friends are my friends because they either feel some kind of weird loyalty, or sorry for me. 

When I met my person he started to make me believe that perhaps I was someone worthy of being liked, maybe even loved. At the start I resisted, after all, there is no such thing as a happy ending, but between his voice in my head and that of my friends, I started to hope, dream, that for once something might work out. 

I should always listen to myself, always trust my gut instincts, because now, all I feel is lost. 

Once again I wasn’t good enough, I’m ‘best friend’ material and nothing more. How many times over my lifetime am I going to hear that. People keep telling me that I just need to be myself and I am, but it is never going to be enough. 

I had started to like myself, just a little. I was able to look at myself in a mirror and not turn away. But as things started to change, so did I and I realised that I only liked myself because someone else did and when that was taken away, I was no longer able to face myself.

My friends tell me I need to just let things happen, see where this thing goes, but as is usual for me I over think everything. Does he want to be friends, does he even like me, why does he like me and so it goes, on and on. 

Usually I am so clear about my feelings, but in this case I am not. I am scared of losing him, but I don’t know if that is just the friendship or something more. I know I have feelings for him, but I don’t know how strong. I’m worried he will meet someone else and that will be my undoing.

Why can I not be one of those people who can just take life as it comes.  

Why for once could something just not work out. 

 

As it is

It’s been a long time since I have written, I was shocked myself to see that I had not posted anything since April.

I am a little annoyed with myself because so much has happened and I’ve missed out on recording all those emotions, thoughts and feelings, things that in time I will wish I had.

It’s been a rollercoaster and in some respects still is. I’m finding it hard to figure out how I feel about my current situation or how I deal with it. As usual I am overthinking and over analyzing everything instead of doing what I should, which is let life unfold in front of me.

My heart hurts. I’m trying to apply common sense and virtual plasters but it is still broken, albeit not fatally so.

I asked before in a previous post if you believed in fate. I wanted to, I really did. I wanted to believe that all these things that were happening and the way they were happening were meant to be and that maybe for once I was going to grab a little piece of this happiness thing that seems to work so well for others. I was wrong.

I usually am…..

…and now my heart hurts.

Things happen

Do the things that happen in our lifetimes shape us for our futures. Do we adequately learn from our mistakes and endeavour to never repeat them, or do we set patterns that we continually fall into.

I think I am a mixture of both. I am painfully aware of all the mistakes I have made and the time I have wasted throughout my life because of them. I would not say that I regret any, nor am I sure that I have learnt any valuable life lessons, perhaps they are still waiting to be discovered.

I love too easily, I know this. But at the same time I am cautious, once bitten twice shy and all that.

I’ve been chatting to my person for three months now. In real life I am socially inept, shy with people I do not know and slow to interact, but allegedly the centre of the party when I am comfortable. I finally sent him a second photo, but as soon as I hit the send button I started to cry. My dislike of myself was so great. My past came back to haunt me, memories of when I had once before shared myself with someone only to be rejected. That feeling of never being good enough or the ‘best friend’ that guys wished they had dated when it didn’t work out with my cooler prettier friends.

People berate me for having low self esteem, but when you are in the situation of being your own and only cheerleader and you dislike yourself, where does that leave you.

The realisation that you will never be able to love anyone until you can learn to love yourself is a sad one.

My person did not run, or leave….yet, but there are now other hills to climb and creases to iron. For now, it remains worth the effort, hopefully for us both.

Bad days do pass

There are Fridays and then there was last Friday. It wasn’t a good day. 

At the end of my work day I stood on the train platform and thought about throwing myself in front of the train. It was just a fleeting thought and it’s doubtful that the logical side of my brain would have let me take that step forward, but it was there none the less. The first one for a long time.

I wanted to write about it,  because I needed to capture the feeling and remember it. It’s important that I acknowledge it’s existence, because it may not be the last. 

Nothing bad happened, nothing life changing happened, the thought was borne of different emotions crashing inside my wonky top box. PMT meets crushing self confidence and all reason goes out the window. 

I need to remind myself that I may feel like this, but that it will pass, and also that there is a reason. My hormones are clearly haywire, on one day of the month more than others. The crushing self confidence, well it remains and probably always will. 

Remember your feelings and own them, because on one day you may step forward, but the next one you may step back. In the third you can carry on living.