I received his text before my appointed time with the Therapist.
I didn’t open it until after my conversation with her.
I think I baffle my therapist the same way I baffle anyone who knows me. How does this smart, competent, attractive woman lose her mind in an instant?
But that really was what happened.
Some important things happened in a days time span:
Immediately after my cray: One friend talked me off a cliff, one got mad and refused to talk to me about it and my sister just remained baffled and wanted better for me. This was the first time I realized I was pulling my friends into a hole with me because of my inability to control Trixie. Maybe I knew before but I wasn’t paying attention – but yesterday – knowing these were the same women who worried over my life in Mexico – I couldn’t let that happen. They have been too good to me and for me.
The next morning: The therapist listened and I am pretty sure she never said “do not respond” the way everyone else had. She only suggested “put some time between it.” I had already made up my mind that I was going to ask him why he did that after all this time. But she did say several things that made me pause and think. I cannot jeopardize my friendships and I must learn to control my tantrums. And mostly, I have to start forgiving myself and just move forward. Is it earth shattering? No. I’m just listening and actively participating. Some of your comments were good for me – why do I snap the moment I am rejected by a man? Most importantly, I needed her to hear my mania closest to the time it happened. Once a week I can be pretty good at looking alive and well. She needed to have a dose of Trixie because she hides and bites.
After the conversation with my therapist, I told Tony the truth (via text), why I reached out and then why I went cray. Then I apologized. His answer was that I had “liked” a post and he saw his wife scrolling through every like and he panicked. He apologized and said he didn’t even think I would care after all this time. He said he would “re-friend” me if I wanted. Does it matter? It shouldn’t but it was enough for me. I cried a bit because I knew there would be no more, but I didn’t have to press him for questions and answers on anything else. I felt the need for validation and I wanted it so desperately and I didn’t ask for it.
I was happy I cried. Sometimes I think my new meds are too strong. But the tears were ok. If my friend had not come over I probably would have mourned all day, but she did so I didn’t. Then 6’4″ asked me to coffee for Friday morning. So the day moved with less dwelling than any past contact with Tony.
Steps. Steps ahead. They aren’t great. And I am still angry he made the choices he did. My cousin pointed out that anyone who has to check their husband on social media isn’t living the best life. I admit to taking a little satisfaction in that. I feel less of a need to tell his wife, but I can’t say that’s entirely gone. I’m sure it will go away in time.
The result is that I have to call for help when I slip. I was DETERMINED to find his number. It was a psychological need that felt physical to me in the moment. And I knew it was wrong and ignored the sane part of my brain going: you really forgot his number! Good for you! Had I listened to that cheerleader in my head, I would have dealt with the emotion any way I wanted EXCEPT contacting him. I could have cried and screamed and thrown things and a thousand other ways to express my anger. I would have still given my inner child a voice, allowed a controlled tantrum in a safe place, and moved on. Why do I need the person who upsets me to hear me? He couldn’t help me.
So, fork in the road, almost 15 weeks of no contact and I screwed up. I wanted more from him but I finally “feel” that I won’t get more so I feel a bit more confident about letting go. I know that all sounds crazy, but that’s how I feel. I have to focus on how I get what I need from men in my life. Men who are available. And learn how not to take this crap forward with me into any relationship.
In the summer/fall 2016 I thought I had it all. I never felt “put on a pedestal” in my life…but I got to live and love up in the clouds for about a year before my world began crumbling. The fall from those heights nearly killed me. Losing my job in the fashion I did, and having a boss dismantle my credibility was painful. Today was the first time that I realized that as much as Tony hurt me, the damage from the job is probably worse. I was never great in relationship (or at least my track record from marriage didn’t give me a good foundation might be a better way to say it) but I was amazing in my roles at work and always rewarded well. As I talked through the Tony situation today, it dawned on me that I’ve been allowing myself to dwell on something I can’t repair instead of something I can – causing me to feel hopeless.
I can’t go back to my downward spiral after April. I can’t go back to the black hole I put myself in because I am barely, just barely out of it now. The meds are strong and are probably doing the heavy lifting but now I need to use that for my benefit. The fact that I felt less driven regarding Tony today is a step forward. The fact that I realized I can focus on something I can (at least possibly) attain is a step forward. I’m still traumatized but yesterday and today were good learning days.
And tomorrow I see a handsome man for coffee and have a hair appt in the afternoon. So that’s not so bad either.