Closure.

I've suffered through some anniversaries lately. It brought back the pain of losing my xbf all over again.  The one year anniversary of our first break-up, Valentine's Day when we had our first fake friendship non-date that ended with a lot of kissing and ultimately disaster.  Even the Egyptian revolution tortured me with memories. (There's a story  behind that.)  I never stopped hurting for him, but it has a new urgency.  My body aches for him again. And I've been crying.  All year I hoped he might change his mind and come back to me.  No one else ever loved me the way he did. Now I know that's never going to happen. 

What I need is closure. Our last breakup was such a mess, he just ran away and left me hanging. He gave me a line about needing space on the phone, but said it wasn't forever. I didn't know what that meant. I gave him a month. Then I couldn't take waiting and constantly checking for emails or phone calls.  I emailed him to find out what was going on. He did not reply. I tried several times over the next two weeks, asking him to tell me to leave him alone or give me a time line or breakup with me for good. Nothing. I finally got psycho with a nasty email, an apology, and one more begging him to tell me it was over. No reply. I finally threatened to go to his house to make him talk to me. To that, he replied. He told me he could have no contact with me and I especially could not go to his house. It was over. Hallelujah! That was a relief. And really, really, painful.

Still, I didn't believe him. He couldn't even say the words out loud. I didn't understand how someone could walk away from what we had.  Maybe he just needed more time. And I felt so horrible about how I behaved.  I hated what I had done.  I hated knowing he probably hated me.  For a year I've been regretting that and everything else I did wrong with him.  That, along with pining for him has been miserable. Now it's all making me angry on top of everything else. This has got to stop. 

My first attempt to deal with it was an email to his friend, the one who set us up.  I asked him to tell me my xbf was happy now.  If I knew he was happy with a girlfriend who gave him lots of sex, then I could move on.  I would be happy for him, and it would mean our break up was a good thing. --No reply. 

Like a lunatic, I began to think maybe it was time for me to make a move. Maybe he was as unhappy as I was.  I could ask him to come back to me. I fantasized about going to his house, imagining he would cry and kiss me and we would never part again. I got over that foolishness.  He doesn't want to be with me, the end.
But I did need to talk to him. I need his forgiveness. I want to know he is happier now. I want him to tell me he has no regrets.  Tell me that we're better off apart.

I sent an email.  It was short:Hi there. Are you amenable to a chat?

He replied: I don't know if that's a great idea. I hope you are doing well but I don't know what we would have to talk about. I'm sorry, I know this sounds harsh. 

It was a punch in the gut. I got livid.  Like being rejected yet again. He should have asked me what I had to say instead of arrogantly declaring we had nothing to talk about.  He could at least help me with closure. And how insulting that he tried to nice it up and water it down. Just say: No, I don't want to talk to you.  I could handle that.  But his condescension, I can not. I was thoroughly disgusted with him.

This could mean he is not over me and that's why he doesn't want to talk to me.  But maybe not.

I have been on a roller coaster all week.  First I was furious that he wouldn't talk to me.  Then I was okay. Then I got angry thinking that he might be alone and unhappy. That would make our breakup pointless and even more stupid.  Today I am very sad. I don't want to let go of him but I have to. It breaks my heart, again, and still.

My therapist is making me write a letter.  Say what I need to and be done with him.  She said it's the only way to get over it. I hope it works. I'm ready to move on.

Catching Up 2011

I have a lot of things going on in my mind these days.  That's what happens when my mood stabilizes or goes manic, whichever.  (I got back on meds in December).  When that happens it feels like I am waking up from a hazy sleep, from not being fully alive -- a sort of sleepwalking.  It's creepy. And stressful, because when I wake up I have to clean up the mess I made by sleeping. This post may be boring, but I need to review things. 

I don't want to waste one more year of my life rotting away in my stinky apartment living on the edge of ruin. So I've  made plans.  I'm trying to hedge all my bets, to give God lots of opportunity to make something good happen.

Plan A. My PhD: At the beginning of last fall I had new plans to write my incomplete papers, with help from others, so I could get myself back into the PhD program I dropped out of a few years ago.  Plan A. To continue what I started.

I also tried this in the fall of 09. After 6 months of struggle and no completed work, I decided it was impossible. My emotional baggage was greater than I could overcome. (I fainted one night while trying to work.) So, Plan B.  At the last minute in January of 2010, I applied to new schools to start over.  It was a very traumatic process, facing the demons of my failure, reading my old work, and asking for recommendations.  It took a few nightmarish weeks but I did it.  It was a massive triumph.  Though I missed some deadlines which meant I didn't qualify for funding for the program that accepted me.

So it didn't work out. And I turned back to Plan A in August 2010, to finish my Incompletes and grovel myself back into my old program.  I started two papers.  I felt great, I was excited.  Then my insurance was canceled, my medicine ran out and I fell apart.  No more work.

At the end of December I started getting better and I started getting ideas.  It was probably time for me to give up this PhD thing.  There was a reason I haven't been able to do any work in 4 years.  Either I didn't want to do it, I couldn't do it, or God didn't want me to do it. If that's the case, then I needed a new plan.

Plan C: Get MSW and LCSW to become a therapist.  I can have my own practice so I won't ever get fired. My friends have always said I would be a good therapist.  I have 20 years of practice on the wrong side of the couch, making me an expert. And, here's the weird part.  My Patriarchal blessing said I should help people in the way that a psychiatrist does because I have the gift of healing. That horrified me when I was 16.  But I always planned to do something with my PhD sort of in that vein on the side.  Maybe that wasn't good enough.  Maybe I've been acting like Jonah and running away from my responsibility?  Every time I started to get things together for my PhD, something went wrong.  For years. So maybe I should swallow my pride and give up. Fine.

The last week of January I made the final decision to do it, to apply for a social work program. That was on a Tuesday.  I found one nearby that was affordable, and checked requirements and deadlines, Feb. 5th.  I  started it that night. Then, on Wednesday I came across an ad for a studentship in my field, at the school that accepted me last year.   I popped over to their website and checked their deadlines. Feb 1.  I already had all the work done, it would be easy to send it all in again.  They accepted me once, maybe this time I could get funding.  And while I was at it, there was another school in London similarly ranked that I might as well apply to too.  I started those on Wednesday night.

Which puts me back on Plan B.  The PhD apps were due first so they took priority.  I spent the next week working on them, sending emails for recommendations, revising my writing samples, writing a personal statement, and re-working a research proposal.  I didn't sleep for 3 days before the due date.  I enjoyed it.  This is what turns me on.  I don't expect to get funding, it was probably a waste of time.  But it was good for my self esteem to see my qualifications all in once place. And, I'll know that I tried.
 
Now it was time for Plan C again, the MSW app.  Groan.  I didn't know what to write for the personal statement.  I put it off until one hour before the deadline. I didn't know who to ask for recommendations and procrastinated that too.  Saturday afternoon I painted my bathroom floor instead of working on the app.  I finished the floor at 10pm  and told my friend I wasn't doing the app.  I just didn't want to.  But I said a prayer that the Lord would help me do it if that's what He wanted.  I sat down at 11 p.m. and whipped a personal statement from my rear, then entered the names of referrees I hadn't heard back from yet.

After hitting the submit button, I found out the fee is $125!!!  I don't have that!  It's extortion!  But I checked the box saying I would mail in a check.  If this is what the Lord wants from me, then He can make it work out.  To better my chances, I spent the early part of this week looking for other MSW programs nearby.  There were some with open deadlines but they require work experience I don't have.  And the fees all range from $60-125.  Plan C isn't looking good.

Then there is Plan D.  I started this in December.  I'm applying for disability.  My shrink and my therapist have wanted me to do it for years.  I didn't want to.   I'm not that sick.  I don't want to be that person.  But it would qualify me for Medicaid, which I need.  My meds cost almost 2k per month at retail price.  Maybe if I go on the subsidy, I'll have the stability to finish my research.  Or, it could put me in a situation to go back to school for a few years and get the MSW.  And/or, give me the opportunity to continue with Plan E. 

Plan E is my novel. I worked on it all summer.  Then, after I had 70 pages I realized it was crap.  I don't know how to write fiction.  I got discouraged and quit.  But over Thanksgiving I was inspired and wrote a new first page.  I started over completely.  I made an outline of the whole book this time.  It was much better than the mess I had before.  It's going slowly, I have to re-write, re-write, re-write, because this is a new skill and I'm learning as I go.  But I think I might be able to make something good with enough time. 

That's what I've been doing the last two months.  I also started dating, but that was by accident.   And that's for another blog post.