In October, He Told Me That He Hoped I Never Let Myself Slip Into The Notion That I Deserved To Treat

In October, he told me that he hoped I never let myself slip into the notion that I deserved to treat myself.

During social engagements I am either:

A) scrambling to find something to say.

B) wondering why i am/chastising myself for talking too much.

There is no happy medium. Whatever i have done is incorrect.

Nothing spoils a day without anxiety quite like a speeding ticket.

Why did I cheat?  

I cheated to feel a private victory over him. I didn’t want to actually hurt him; he wasn’t ever supposed to ever find out.  It was my secret; just my little reminder that not everyone shared his opinion of me.  Even if that was just because they didn’t know me well enough to see all my ugly bits as he did.

I cheated to feel better about myself. They told me I was irresistible, funny, and interesting. That he was a fool for neglecting me. They flattered me to get what they wanted. I knew that, but pretended like they were pining for the woman they couldn't actually have. It inflated me temporarily, which was enough some days to prevent me from killing myself.

I cheated to distract myself and have something to look forward to. My meets ups were never near as exciting as the planning and build up. A little adrenaline to supplement the cortisol. Good substitute for the old s and d, right? Right.

I cheated to detach myself further.  Meaningless sex made me colder, cynical, unfeeling. Heartless. You would be amazed what you can endure when nothing matters.

I cheated to survive. That's not an excuse. That is a statement.

This is what 'waking up' feels like

“I have suddenly learned, without any apparent reason, that I have been lying to myself for ten years.”

— Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea (via nauseadaily)

It has been 32 weeks no contact today.