I have said for years that I don't want to make my life decisions based on fear. But these days, a lot of what I do is out of fear. Mostly it's fear of feeling pain. I hate pain. I keep looking back at the last four years and wondering if it was really as rosy as it looks to me now. I'm sure it wasn't, but I also know that there were many many times that I looked at E and just said "This is amazing; I'm so happy I found you." I think that's part of how he knew we didn't feel the same about each other.
I miss him so much. I say that knowing that he has access to these blog posts and has said that he'll be avoiding the ones that are emotional. The ones that aren't are few and far between right now, but I have no way of knowing if he's reading or not. I miss my friend. I miss having someone who just felt right. Replacing him in my life will always be imperfect, but even setting aside the committed partner stuff, it means replacing a friend, a lover, the funniest person I know, the smartest person I know, the most progressive and feminist person I know, someone who loved and adored the hell out of me, someone who made me think about things, a person who shared my cynical interest in politics and a lazy Saturday of flea market and bagels and thrift stores. Most of those things are things he can still be without reverting back to our old relationship, but losing so many people in just this one person makes it really hard. We might not actually be capable of being close without reverting. When we talked the other day, he said it's been hard for him to go from seeing me all the time to barely speaking at all. I suspect he's feeling a little bit of the same thing I am. It's a double-edged sword. We miss each other, but being too close means we miss much more. Maybe we became too many things to each other and we should have been spreading the love and support around more. But in any case, we were a lot to each other. My aggregate boyfriend idea hasn't panned out very well, but that in itself was a paltry Plan B.
I feel like I'm treading water. I had a year like this before in my life. When everything fell apart and I barely made it through and then moved away after a year. It was my senior year of high school. It feels so similar that I have to keep reminding myself that I am an adult with a lot more in my life than I had then, and I'm strong and when I move on it'll be doing something for me, not running away. But even grad school is scary. I thought we'd be moving on together. We both thought that would be really stressful, but it felt a lot more stable.
I said several weeks ago that my litmus test for being friends with E would have to be when having him in my life no longer felt like the only thing I wanted. I think I got there, but that's in large part because there is very little desperation left. These last three days have mostly been just sadness. The Abilify gave me a headache and insomnia and maybe anxiety the first day, but I took it again. I can't tell how I feel. I'm still sad, but not sobbing. This stretch is the worst I've had in about two weeks. I'll be happy when it fades, but I have no idea what the best idea is for getting through until then. I know the zoloft dosage increase will be a good thing, but it'll take a while to have much of an effect. If I keep taking the Abilify, I think it'll mostly dull everything. I don't like feeling dulled. Dull feels boring and boring feels lonely and lonely feels sad. I'll try this for a week. After a week, if I'm not feeling calmer and less depressed, I'm done. My mom and our doctor friends are flipping out, and I'm really tired of her saying the same damn thing every day. I know it's a concern. I know it's probably overkill. I'm taking it for a week to see how it is. Right now, it gets an F two days in a row. If this shit doesn't make me less depressed, there's no reason for it.
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