broken and breaking

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i’ve waited too long to write this to do it any justice. i wasnt going to write about it at all – it hurts and it makes it real – but the downward spiral is lasting too long to not note it somehow.

a very very long story made shorter:

The break up:

  • last week, Christian told me he was never in love with me, just loved me, and had been dating me because he thought i ‘needed something special’. he basically wanted to save me from being bipolar by fake-loving it right out of me. like he could fix my brokenness by giving me the gift that was him.
  • i was enraged. i am still sort of. it was not only painful from a break up stand point, it hurt my soul. it was like everything i feared made true.
  • i felt and feel completely broken and unloveable, more so than before, which is an impressive amount.
  • he never really knew me, even when he was physically here, he expected me to be needy and in need of a saviour. he wanted to save me. i do not fucking need saving.

The break down:

  • i spent tuesday night in a tail spin of self destruction. i sliced my leg open with an xacto knife. i spent most of the night in the shower trying not to bleed on things. i was a mess. i almost killed myself.
  • it wasnt about the break up, it was about the feeling like everyone just saw me as broken and fucked up anyway, like none of the work i’d done mattered, like everything was just bull shit and there was nothing i could do to fix peoples perceptions of me, or fix me, or be anything other than just the bipolar girl. like the only reason people would be around is to fix me and be self congratulatory about any of my personal gains. only not any of that. i just felt and feel horrible about myself. just fucking horrible. ive hated myself for a long time but normally it stays as a background thought. its not in the background anymore.
  • i feel like a burden to everyone who knows me.
  • i broke and am breaking.

After:

  • Christian stayed up most of tuesday night with me making me not kill myself. which is ironic because he is both the cause and the thing that stopped me.
  • I guess he finally got to play saviour then, and that probably was good for his ego.
  • We are friends now and I think I’ll eventually trust him again, but it makes me feel really stupid.
  • i’ve barely gotten out of bed in the past week. i went to pride and got fucked up as hell at kale and donnas, spent most of the night talking to sav  and robb about how fucked up i am and how im not making it through the night very well anymore.
  • im not making it through the night anymore. i talk to christian for most of the day, like we always have, like nothings fucking changed, for better or worse. but he sleeps and i do not. or i do but in fits and bursts. i always said id never try to kill myself through pills because it rarely works and usually you just end up with fucked up symptoms because of it instead of dead. but ive counted all the meds i have, which is a lot. i dont know the lethal doses of any of them anymore but i think i’ve got enough of everything to do some serious damage.
  • i havent cut myself since tuesday. that was the first time in 3.5 years so i dont expect i’ll do it again. im not really one for half measures. and the scars hurt.
  • I’m having like dual versions of Christian right now.  i hate one. i hate one so much. but the other is here for me and is a good person and i love him a lot. i cant figure out what to feel about anything. we are acting fine and sometimes we genuinely are fine.
  • i am very good at forgiveness, i’ve had a lot of practice with important people cutting me to the bone. and forgiving them.  and i mostly forgive him. im not over it, but i forgive him.
  • I feel like im letting him off without pain. not that i want to hurt him but i also need him to understand how much he hurt me and i dont know if he does. he’s one of those annoying permanently ok to happy people and i dont know how he feels. or if he feels. about any of this now. i cant tell if he just thinks its over and we survived it. because its not over. it doesnt go away. its a permanent part of who we are now.
  • i broke and am breaking.
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