OK, so this isn't the conventional venting of frustration...well, maybe it is slightly, but it isn't the pure anger sorta thing that's expected! I'm feeling sorry for myself, mainly, so this is going to be pretty damned self-centered. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm sick of emotions, quite frankly! I am sick of feeling completely emotionally vulnerable. It was a problem that I wasn't and now I'm at the complete opposite end of the scale and it's shit.
I used to be almost immune to emotions. OK, not immune, but I barely cried. I wasn't a particularly emotional child after my Auntie's unexpected death in 2001 (I was 7), but I got a whole lot worse, I think, in year 10. In year 10 I went through something with people I called my friends at the time which was emotionally traumatic. This paired with my first relationship with a boy made me a bit of a mess by the end of the academic year. After this I started, slowly, to get closer to a guy. We got a lot closer in the first year of college and it wasn't long before I called him my best friend. I don't really like it, but I did actually love him, as a friend...not as more, as I discovered later (I'll get back to that). Thing was though, about this friend of mine, he was there for me and comforted me as much as he could when I had problems at home, but he was emotionally broken. I mean, all of this plus things at home made me quite bad, but he was shockingly bad. He had been emotionally closed-off since he went through a pretty rough time of a few close relatives dying in a short time. He never cried over anything. This made for a very destructive relationship when either one of us was upset and wouldn't give up on the other for anything. I lost count of the times I spent talking to him online until the early hours of the morning just to try and make him feel a little better. I was emotionally fucked and he hated himself. He also had very strong feelings for me and had for years. This confused the hell out of me and added to the destructive nature of the relationship. He would say he liked me and I would feel guilty because of how much I cared for him. Eventually, I gave in, and last February, on leap-year day, we got together. Well, I say we got together, we didn't see each other for ages and only accidentally spent time together in the library at college. We met up once, purposefully during the first 5 months. It was very awkward, looking back, and that should have really told me that it wasn't going to work. But, with me being a complete sucker and hating to give up, I stayed with him. After those awful 5 months, we finally started acting slightly like a couple, seeing each other alone for days and going out together with friends a few times. One of these times being one of my best friends' 18th birthday parties. We went to the party together...then spent most of the night apart and h left without telling me. I still stayed with him. An idiot, yes, yes I was. He showed me NO affection in public and he was a massive nob head to most people. But I thought I was special because I didn't get that behavior directed me, because he was attracted to me and I was one of few that bothered with him. Anyway, we carried this farce on for a while, then I went to university. We both knew it would be hard but wanted to give it a go. He made me feel like crap during one of the first nights out because he was messaging me and feeling down. I didn't care about me so much because I wanted him to cheer up, but it was a very selfish thing of him to do and something I now avoid doing.
A few weeks into university and he came to visit for a night. We spent the whole day-or-so in my room. The first day was fine...then at night, we shared my single bed and I felt uncomfortable. There was something not right. The whole next day was the same. I wanted him to go as soon as we got up.
The next day, I messaged him and explained this, before calling the relationship off. He of course, as expected, was upset. I spoke to family and friends about it and they were all very supportive.
The day after this happened I received a message from him. He had hacked into my facebook account and found messages from two guys that I had met at uni, nothing out-of-order or hinting at anything more than friendship was said between me and these guys, but he had it in his head that I intended to cheat on him. He told me he hated me. I cried. I cried, alone, hysterically.
I managed on from then and we got back to being mates. Until one night when I broke the news that I was seeing someone; my current boyfriend (who is, btw, infinitely better and I love him lots). He went off on one yet again, and kept making stupid references to the relationship on a mutual friend's statuses. Me and my boyfriend then had an argument with him and that was that. I moved on. I did try to talk to him again a couple of months ago, but the emotions had gone, he just drove me mad and annoyed the hell out of me with his pessimism.
Months after this happened, I lost my Grandma. I've blogged about it before, so I won't detail it. It messed me up, though. I have since been very sensitive and cried many times, not just out of grief.
The point in the long story?! I moved on. I felt strong enough to start again and focus on what I had at the time and then find someone new. I did it in year 10 with the friend thing and again in october with this break-up. But now, if anything bad like that happened, I would be broken. Due to a few recurring problems in my relationship I ended up on a break not that long ago with my boyfriend. It tore me apart. I physically couldn't deal with the thought of breaking up with him. Yes, a lot of this was down to my feelings for him, but old me could have handled the thought better. New me could not, and granted we are OK now, but if we hadn't been I don't know what I would have done.
And now, I have been apart from him for almost a month and I feel awful most of the time. I won't be seeing him for at least a month now, I think, and I'm finding it very difficult. I've been crying more at films and even feel like I could cry now despite there being no sad film to blame. This may also be because I have just started watching classic Doctor Who and I cannot find the fifth episode online (a version that will play). Doctor who affects me a little too much since becoming a full-scale whovian.
So, I think I have explained enough and dragged enough shit up. Now to find something to do...inabit.
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