imenoughh

Why do I torture myself in this way?

I don’t know who I used to be. That scares me. I think I know who I am now.

 I wasn’t who I thought I was. 

Or maybe, maybe I’ve just forgotten the bigger picture. I don’t remember everything that was going on in my life at the time.

One photo, one text.

I think then I’ll leave the rest.

It’s a problem I’ll never solve. 

No matter how hard I try, and trust me I try, I’ll never come up with a satisfying answer. 

Who I was, why I acted the way I did.

Every day it haunts me, why why why... what REALLY happened?

It’s easier, being alone.

You only have yourself, your own thoughts and feelings to keep track of.

With others it gets complicated, and I’m constantly guessing at what other people are thinking, and trying to please them.

Where did I go wrong? How can I make sure things are different next time around?

You’re smiling. So am I. We’re so sweet on each other. 

I’m sorry to think I hurt you. But because it’s hard for me to see the places I went wrong, it’s hard for me to fully feel sorry. I wonder if I should be sorry. If there really is so much to be sorry about.

Why didn’t you leave me earlier? If you hated me so much.

But you don’t know how you feel. You don’t now and you didn’t then. That’s why I can’t figure out how you felt, about me.

We shouldn’t have held on.

But we were dumb, and naive and alone. 

And now here I am, typing away at 1am, a year later.

I panic every time I pass by your house on the bus. 

I’m afraid to see you.

I push it away, and say it’s just regular post relationship anxiety.

But I’m truly afraid.

How much we hurt each other, and yet how we kept on reuniting as if drawn by a magnet, it terrifies me.

I’m alright, I know.

Can push it away, just say go.

I think to myself, I wish I’d never met you.

But that’s naive too, because I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you.

Maybe some of our experiences have negatively affected me, but certainly I’ve been positively affected by you too. 

I learned a lot about the realities of relationships.

I learned to be more patient.

I learned I can be a real b to the people I love most.

I learned how much my actions affect others.

I felt a bond I’ve never felt with anyone before.

I’ve been idealizing him, I knew I was but not to what extent until yesterday. I saw my friend who had been away at university. We hadn't really talked in so long. She was a mutual friend of me and my ex, its because of her that we met. I decided beforehand though that I wouldn't ask about him. I knew it wouldn't make me feel good. But she brought it up, and so we talked a bit. She told me she’d noticed that he was weird, and that there was something off about him. They aren’t friends anymore, none of their friend group is friends with him anymore, because of his huge ego and how great he thinks he is. Apparently they hadn't talked for three months, and then I don't know im guessing a month ago, she reached out to him and asked how he was doing. But he was really rude to her, and called her a bad friend for not hanging out with him (he hadn't made much effort to see her either). So then she stopped talking to him. She also told me that in the summer he tried to feel her up. Of course she rejected his stupid horny ass. That really hurt to hear. I didn't really show that to her though. But wow. She’s one of my closest friends, like what the hell. So I asked if he tried to hookup with a lot of girls, and she said yes sort of. Sortof because he acted like he didn't and wasn't a player but he was. He always told me that too, that he didn't hookup with many girls, and that he only wanted to sleep with people he was close with. Bullshit.

A week after he cut me off (saying he still loved me but was too hurt to stay in my life, but that if I ever wanted to have sex he’d be down af:)), he kissed one of his best friends. I only just found out that they kissed. Anyways, I told my other friend who was friends with that girl that I'd been jealous of their relationship when we’d been together. And she told me she was gay. He knew I was a bit jealous of her and all the girls he hungout with. WHY DIDN’T HE TELL ME. So I saw him a few days later, and told him it was funny that I'd been jealous of her cuz I just found out she was gay. He swore he had told me. Nope, never I said. He proceeded to tease and tease me about how stupid it was, and how they were only “friends” and he was not in any way interested in her like that. He acted like the idea was totally ridiculous and said I had absolutely nothing to worry about. One week later, he kissed her. And then right after that I heard that he was telling that girl how he thought they were meant to be together and blah blah. He’s a liar.

Also, soon after we orginally broke up, we were still in each others lives. I realized I still had his Spotify account, so I was planning on deleting it. I just checked to see if he had been listening to any new good music. there was a huge playlist he’d made for this girl, and a caption saying how much their “connection” meant to him and how special she was. I got jealous and asked him about it, and he told me they were just friends. But that was the same kind of things he said to me. He insisted I was just being paranoid and that it was nothing. I believed him, then, a few weeks later I see him and he told me he like her and that if she lived near him (she’s from out of town) that he would date her.

Both times he just made me feel like such a fool. Like I was crazy for even suggesting it. And I believed him. I always believed him. He told me he was a psychopath a couple months after we broke up. But he made it seem like nothing, even a good thing. He said how lots of successful people are psychopaths and that they are really smart (both of which is often true). Anyways, I wasn’t actually that surprised, I’d often felt he lacked empathy at times. I told I wasn’t very surprised which surprised him. “Really?” he’d said. “When I told my friends they were all so surprised.” He’d told a group of his close girlfriends. Months later I found out that he hadn’t told any of his friends, not even his best female friend. He lied to me. And why did he tell me? Why only me? We were not on very good terms then. Part of me feels like he trusts me and thats why. But I also feel like he just wanted to mess with me. It sure worked. I went into a panic after that. 

I just. I do want to move on. And I have in many ways. My feeling are much less, and I still think about him more than I want, but its not that bad. Or it wasn’t, until I heard all of this. I guess the image of him that I had in my head was just crushed. I feel betrayed. I feel lied to. And like when I felt this way before, it makes me question everything. Was any of it real? Did he even ever love me? Was he just using me for sex? He acted like he was this amazing kind romantic sensitive guy. Was it good and things just went south, and he changed? I’m trying not to think about that, because it’s nothing something I think I can't  really answer, but my mind keeps going there. For now I want to believe the latter, that things got bad, I hurt him, and he changed. He used to tell me that I was deflecting my guilt onto him by being angry at him and blaming him for things. I thought there was a good chance he was right, I've done that before. But I don’t know, maybe it was partly that, but really I think that I actually want to be the bad guy. I want to be responsible for us breaking apart, and hurting him and us. Because then I’m in control. Then it was my fault, not his. Then I don’t need to feel afraid that people are going to hurt me, because I’m my own biggest threat. I want our relationship to have been as juicy and beautiful as I see it. I want him to be a great guy. I’d rather preserve my idealized image of him than submit to reality. I’d rather hate myself than believe that the person I trusted more than anyone in the world isn’t who he pretends to be. He just disposed of me. 

But even still its hard to believe, and his version is much kinder. He just couldn’t trust me anymore and I had hurt him too much. But he still cared about me so so much. I like that. Because then it’s all my fault, and he's not at all unreasonable. And although I and everyone I've talked to thinks he could’ve forgiven me, I just have believed he has a harder time forgiving people. I guess that’s still possible. But he lied to me. And all he seemed interested in was sex. I just feel like he realized he didn’t want a relationship, although technically we were broken up we still acted basically the same, and that instead he just wanted to be with different girls. And he knew I might not stick around if he did that, and maybe being relationshippy annoyed him. People told me he used me, and he was shitty to me but other than a few times I never really believed it. And I still don’t know. 

I know I need to move on. And I don’t want to be with him. I just want to know. And honestly sometimes I imagine running into him again, and us dating again. But that wouldn't be good, right? And I say I’d like to preserve my beautiful image of our relationship, but I don’t know how to do that when he’s lied to me. I feel like I don’t know him.

I’m really writing because I had the urge to try and look at my ex’s social media. I knew it was stupid, but I also really thought that I wouldn’t find anything, considering he blocked me. But I managed to find a photo of him on a mutual friends account. It was taken right around the time we started dating. I still think about him, and picture his face. But in my mind his face is a bit blurry, and distant. I felt such a strong reaction when I saw the picture of him. Such an uncomfortable reaction, one I hadn't expected or felt in a long time. I felt sick, and guilty, and jealous and sad. I’m still feeling it a bit. I don’t exactly know why that photo caused me to feel so much. It was like a reminder that he was real, that he is real. That’s a real person and I hurt him. Sometimes the guilt causes me to push his pain away, and I avoid seeing that I really did hurt him because knowing that hurts me so much. How did I do that? Why did I do that? Is it just hard for me to understand because I’ve changed into a completely different person now? Would I do that again? to someone? to him? And then I think well it must have been something he did, that’s the only explanation he must’ve treated me badly. Because surely I wouldn’t cheat on an innocent boy who was so kind to me. No matter how shitty I felt inside. I know I felt less than. I felt less than in life generally, and less than in our relationship. He’s the one I idolized, and I didn't think I deserved him. I didn’t think he understood me. I was right there I guess, he told me himself he didn’t get me. 

I’m wasting time right now. Trying to answers questions I can’t possibly answer. The best I can think of is I was depressed. When I feel depressed, everything loses its color. I stop caring about things I used to care about. I care less about myself, and the people around me. I’m not as friendly. I question everything. I doubt everything. I avoid everything. I think friends or others must not really like me, because what’s there to like. I think people who act like they care about me or see value in me are lying to me. I get suspicious, I feel afraid. I’m so afraid of failing that I fail on purpose or by default. I ruin things for myself, relationships, and I’m aware that I’m doing it. I just watch and cower. 

I guess I’ll never stop feeling guilty, and I’ll always regret certain things in my life. I’ll just do my best to improve every day, and cope better and better with my mistakes. 

-----at times I think I’d do anything to earn his approval/forgiveness....

-----If I could fix things I would, but not at the expense of my whole life’s happiness. 

because I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be punished eternally for one stupid mistake. because my life is worth more than that. It’s worth more than forever hating and minimizing myself. I am so much more than that one mistake, that one night’s kiss. And I'm more than the following outlash I had against him over text. I am more than that. I am not always kind, but I often am. I care deeply. I’m artistic and creative. I am so much more than those things. And maybe he made the right choice, maybe I really would have made him unhappy and he made the right choice for himself. Maybe he couldn’t see how much I was because of his pain. He saw only my mistakes and discarded everything else, every kind thing I’d ever done for him. Maybe he really saw everything and still found the cons to outweigh the pros. But I don’t. I don’t think my mistakes outweigh my successes. I don’t think I’m not worth being around. I can see myself for all that I am, for the darkness and light, for the beauty and imperfections, and I think I’m fabulous. I am beautiful. I am worth getting out of bed every morning. I am worth loving. I am worth forgiving. That’s okay if he sees none of this, because I do. For him I’m not worth it but that’s okay. He’s looking out for himself, just like I am. I’m worth it. 

edit: maybe... I was so depressed at the time. I felt myself heading down hill and believed I would keep going. Things would get horrible, and or I would kill myself. Nothing mattered. All of it would end or be destroyed anyway, so destroying it myself didn't matter. I cheated partly or largely because I thought we were going to break up anyway, and I already hated myself. I wanted to kill myself and considering I'd be dead anyways none of these problems would bother me, none of these relationships would even still exist at all. I pushed people away. I once read that either cats or dogs when they get close to their natural death they stop engaging as much with their owners, so it doesn't hurt them as much when they die. I don’t know if that’s at all factual, but I think that’s how I was getting in some ways, one way in which depression works. You withdraw in part so others aren’t so affected by your negativity. You hurt people to protect them from a future with you that you believe will be even more painful to them. Because you think you’re not worth it. and if no one’s going to believe you when you say it, you need to prove your unworthiness to them with your actions. and so much of you regrets it and knows you’ve made a terrible mistake, but some part of you feels safer. Some part of you believes you’ve saved them. Some part of you is relieved that you no longer have to worry if things will go to shit, because it’s clear that they already have. The not knowing decreases. The fear of the toll your depression will take on others decreases. But now, now you’re really utterly alone, and you know it. And you’re so afraid. and your fear of failure, it’s no longer simply a possibility but it’s a horrifying undeniable truth. and when the negative thoughts about yourself seep in, it becomes a lot easier to believe them. You’ve convinced not only your lover that you are truly unworthy, but you’ve finally convinced yourself of it too. The pain doesn't go away. Breaks from the this deep darkness become so rare. The chaos you felt inside you for so long is no longer just inside you, it’s all around you. The look on his face makes you regret ever wishing he’d understood how depressed you felt. You’re reminded that despite how bad you feel inside, you never want anyone else to feel the same way; you’d rather feel alone than see another suffer. and it’s over. You have hope you think things will get better, we can work through this. but really it’s all ruined. things will never be the same. you will never be the same. he will never be the same.

and anytime you notice how much this experience has taught you, and almost feel glad for it, you feel disgusted with yourself. To think you benefited in any way from someone else’s pain. 

and forever on you keep thinking one day one day... one day he will want me back. But that day hasn’t come, and deep down you know it never will. but each time you do something you know he’d like, you imagine him asking for you back. every time you’re on the bus you search for his face, constantly mistaking strangers for him, because you miss him so badly. 

Patterns keep repeating, change seems unreachable. We are all humans, we are programmed to behave a certain way. I keep thinking this time will be different, they will change, I will change. I keep thinking love and hope is enough. But it’s not, love and hope don’t bring about change. They leave you standing still, ignorantly thinking that by hoping and willing something that it will happen. It keeps coming back to this, I keep on coming back to this same place. It’s what comes when your hope starts to wear out. When you realize, for the millionth time, that you fucked yourself over yet again. That you convinced yourself that you could work with this life, that you could be enough as you, so long as you try a little. Well guess what, some people try their whole goddam lives and never get what they’re after. Trying isn’t shit, and the truth in this is unbearable. What can we do but try? I’m told my depression and suicidal thoughts are a disease, that it’s some horrible lie I am being told. But maybe although horrible, maybe it is really the truth. The truth always comes out, right? Well guess what keeps coming back to me again, and again... I will never be enough. I might be enough, even more than enough for some. But for myself, I will never be enough. My quality of life will never be enough for me. The deep emptiness that’s always stalking me can never be filled. I can try, I can get my hopes up, I can feel “happy” and excited about things, but at the end of the day, that void still remains, unchanged, unaffected by all my desperate efforts.

I hate when someone asks “are you okay?” because I say no, no I am not. But then when they offer to talk suddenly I don't know why I am sad and I am unable to talk to people. Maybe the root of my sadness is no reason, its just stupidity and an obsession with feeling this way. Even when I am not feeling so sad I still want to die, I can't stop thinking about it. It’s the one thought that will not leave my head. There isn't always a reason or a feeling attached onto to it, just the thought the impulse the desire to be gone. 

***NOTE: this is from yesterday night, my family turns off our internet at 11pm each night so that is why I was not able to post it.