State of….Indifference

I almost said state of Apathy, but it sounded to strong a word for me, no matter they mean the same thing I suppose.

My head isn’t screwed on straight.  I can feel it sort of wobbling on my shoulders.  It’s loose, uneven  and crooked and I can’t find the tethers.  I think they rusted and broke off.

This place I’m in has broad effects.  I can’t write.  (Though I forcing myself to get some of these thoughts out of my mostly empty head and onto paper). I can’t concentrate.  I exhibit some of my worst personal behaviors.  I swing through a fog of mania and almost-but-not quite-depression (and believe me, I know this is NOT depression).

I’m just in-between.

It feels too long now, 2 months out of work, and a minimum of 2 months more ahead.  My sense of purpose has diminished.  I don’t know who I am or where I am going and it’s so terribly hard to see ahead.  My vision is blurry at best and I can’t find my glasses.

Strangely, I am not afraid.  I know things will set themselves straight.  I am a believer in the universe righting itself.  I’ve been through so much in the past 8 months of my life I must believe there is something better waiting for me around the corner.

How long can I last believing this if it doesn’t actually happen?  A few more months?

I feel proud and disingenuine to say I feel I need a “break.”  People always have it worse than me.  But there is this small voice inside of me saying: you really do deserve a break for once, you’ve had it pretty rough, even if you have come out relatively unscathed.

A friend and I went to an outplacement service on Monday and then out for drinks (of course we did).  We had met a third coworker we didn’t know at the outplacement orientation and this poor woman was significantly depressed.  Have you ever met someone so depressed that you wanted to run away from them as fast as possible because if they touched you, then you might catch it?   It was that bad.  I felt awful for this woman.  Awful that I could do nothing to help her other than to be polite and listen, offer some advice, and be gracious.  Awful that I wanted to get away from her.  Awful that we didn’t include her in the drinks afterwards (obviously not awful enough, because we didn’t).  I felt dirty after speaking to her.

Walking away from her, my friend and I were discussing how we never got to that place.  We never hit rock bottom.   In a leadership course I once took, we would call that place the “Pit of Despair.”  It’s the lowest level on the “Mood Elevator” and certainly not where anyone wants to be.  I have learned, through the course of my life and particularly from leadership training in my career, that when I get to the pit of despair, the best thing I could do was set up a beach chair, umbrella and have some cocktails, because I might as well embrace the place I am in.  Not to say enjoy it, but why fight a (hopefully) temporary state of mind?

But that’s me, ever optimistic for the most part.  Glass mostly full type of person.  This poor woman was not that type of person normally, I suspect.

Should I have hit rock bottom after losing my job?  Should I be more worried and feeling differently than I do?  Should I be doing more to ensure I get into a job as soon as possible? Or is it all ok to just take a break from life, be ridiculous for a while, knowing that whatever step I take next is likely to be a tough one for any number of reasons.

I’m in a fugue state for sure.  I hope I don’t stay here for long because it feels like I can get lost in the dark.  It’s a little bit too comfortable for me. The days and weeks are slipping by.  Will I look back on this time and be sorry I wasted it?

I have no idea.  I wish I cared more about it.

Possibly contrary to the mood articulated above, I have little to no downtime.  I am more busy than ever.  I fill my social calendar to overflowing and have chosen to embrace this stay-at-home-mother routine for all it’s worth, while I have it.  Thankfully, I have already had a sincere impact on my middle guy, my toughest kiddo, because I “make foods he likes.”  Go figure.  Hey, it’s a small win, but I will take it all the same.  (and by the way, I just asked him what he would like to have for dinner and he smiled and told me we could order in so I didn’t have to cook!)

So much has been going on that I want to write about and can’t seem to put the words in any coherent form.  Dating happens: Bennett and I have something going, I have been on a date or two,  both Denver and Boston have stayed in touch with the promise of seeing me again (and some good phone sex).  Career stuff is slowly rolling: I’m working with the career outplacement center, interviewing and sharpening the skills I need, including the resume, to get into my next role.  Friends are aplenty and I’m  spending time with lots of people I love and adore.  I even made a new friend, thanks to ASV.  My gym routine is solid and intact and my trainer kicks my ass.  I am going into detox for 3 weeks before the kids and I take our California tour.

This is why it’s so hard for me to understand myself, and why I still feel so ambivalent.  I’m not sure I have ever felt so quite without purpose…my life has mostly followed the path I set, for better or worse, I achieved many goals and dreams over the past 46 years.  Trying to figure out what to do next to secure our future perhaps is almost too daunting to actually grab on to, maybe I am avoiding it after all.  I’m not sure.

Conversely, I have these strange moments of strength and peace.  Belief that I have a solid foundation.  Even a belief that soon the right man will come into my life because I’m almost ready.

I am sure that I will be ok.

Oh, And that I need to go catch that Pokemon before he gets away.

The Butterfly Strike

It’s in the air.

Something about the month, the water, the smell, the breeze.  I don’t know.  But it’s time.

I am very thankful that the vice-grip on my heart was partially dismantled earlier this month by a jolt of sexual electricity.  I desperately needed the reminder that I will be a sexual being again and my blood will flow white-hot for someone.

Do you know how good that felt?

As silly as this may sound, I felt my body and mind relax and tell me true acceptance for last summer is coming.  Eventually, the memory will remain pleasant and wonderful, and maybe even stay rose-colored for a long time to come.  That’s ok with me.  The universe didn’t give me what I thought I wanted and needed so badly for a reason, there must be a reason.

I just don’t need to find the reason anymore.

Now I just need to find what’s next for me in terms of a relationship.

I have been careful about who I am speaking with.  It’s so much easier to weed through the wasteland, and actually even less disheartening, when you stop entertaining people who will do no more than absorb your energy.  If I don’t match with you Mr. Handsome Brain Surgeon, I’m going to match with that next handsome man….soon.  I know it.

Now, I know it.

Guess what?

I found an amazing match!

I matched with someone who was damn near perfect in too many ways to count AND had a similar style to my own in terms of dating.

I felt my pulse quicken.  With each text, and then with each call, the magic carpet came to carry us both away.

It was soooooooooooo hard (yes, it required that many “o’s” because it was THAT hard for me!) to slow down.

But, slow it down I did, a little.  I admitted to getting carried away easily and suggested meeting in person might do us both a favor.

He agreed.

I met him on OKC.  Ever since I altered my search criteria, I have been coming up with much better matches.

He is tall, 6’2″ and very modern looking.  Edgy.  Interestingly enough, he had one sort of distance photo where I couldn’t see his face and we hit it off on repartee long before I finally saw his face.  He is handsome, really handsome.  An amazing life and career.  A son.  Almost divorced. He shaves his head entirely so that will be a first for me.

The banter flowed smoothly and easily.  He was kind, gentle, silly, attentive and curious.  We found 100 weird coincidences like our sons have the same name, we are born on the same day (different month), he has the same name as my father/brother, his profile has one of the same tag lines mine does, and more silly little things like that.

He text a bit in the evening, then again the next morning.  As the text became more and more full, I mentioned I would love to hear his voice and he called immediately.

That’s the second time in the space of a week a man’s voice ripped right through me.  I love this feeling!

And did I mention we are a 99% match on OKC…fun!  I mean, seriously.

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I love when the Butterflies strike!  I am such a sucker for the butterflies!

Let me say this now, I know I am a sucker for the Butterflies.  I fall every. single. time.  But, this time, I caught myself and tried to slow down.  That’s progress!

I could feel his smile through the phone which made me grin even more broadly.  He was gregarious and light, not full of a million “are you the perfect woman” question but just sharing stories and experiences.  I didn’t feel like I was being interviewed, I felt like I was making a new friend.

By mid-day, knowing I had to slow it down, I admitted to him I felt we were both very excited about meeting one another and that we should try to meet to see how the in person chemistry was….he readily agreed.

We set plans for one night away to meet for a drink after work, and if all went well, we would see the Opera together on Friday (my friend had to cancel and the ticket was available…)

Have I mentioned how happy I am that Spring is here?

I feel such a renewed sense of energy with the change in weather and perhaps, with my change in luck.  To have met several men that are viable dating opportunities isn’t a bad place to be!

Now….here’s the key….I know how carried away I get, and easily.  Way too easily.  I LOVE feeling like this.  I love how he is so attentive to me and can’t seemingly get enough of me.

I also know that every time this has happened before, every single time, it hasn’t worked out for me.  That’s the piece I have to focus on or I’m going to be in for a world of hurt if I let things escalate at this pace.    I keep reminding myself to slow down, way down, enjoy the feeling, the euphoria, but slow way the fuck down.

The thought has crossed my mind that men who do this, get carried away like this, maybe all they really want only sex anyway and they are just so clever that they approach it by being the perfect relationship guy.  Once they get the sex, which tends to be quite easy with me, they disappear – which was their intention all along.

I would like to believe that there is really a man out there, like me, who can get carried away and still remain sincere and true, but like I said – it’s never happened.  Not to me.  Not to my friends.  Sure, you hear stories about it, but I don’t know these people.

This time around, I’m going to enjoy the butterflies with a healthy dose of cynicism.

At least, I’m going to try my best.

I know butterflies, as welcome and wonderful as they are, have proven to equally be a recipe for disaster.  The pace at which we are moving forward is too fast.  You know what they say “the higher you fly, the harder you fall.”

Why do I know this to be true and just hate, really HATE to acknowledge it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Emotional Overwhelm

I have to admit, I had a day that I almost slipped and made a phone call to him.

I didn’t because there is no sense in this what-so-ever.

This is not a post about him, I have nothing to add about him.  This is all about me.

The day before it happened I began to feel tired and sort of sad.  I also started my monthly.  I am journaling these feelings and emotions because I feel like they might be tied to hormones, or maybe not.  I don’t think I have paid enough attention in the past to when and why I feel emotionally burdened like this.  I don’t like feeling like this and I really want these feelings to go away now.  I truly want to stop thinking of what I have lost and what is past.

The day started off poorly, I hadn’t slept the entire evening and had been tossing and turning.  He was on my mind, but there were no clear or articulate thoughts or images.  More like a presence.  Most like an empty, hollow space that I was falling through.

I felt overwhelmed by this big, dark, empty space.  Like I was being swallowed up by it.

Sad. Hollow. Empty. Dark. Lonely.

I couldn’t’ wake early enough to work out and I fell asleep on my commute to work , which only happens when I am exhausted.

I couldn’t shake the feelings of dread all day.  These gut feelings usually happen to me when something bad is about to happen, but nothing bad happened to me that day or the subsequent day.  I had no expectation of hearing from him or contacting him in any way, but the drive, the desire to pick up the phone to hear his voice was awful. It really took everything I had not to pick up that phone.

I remind myself there is nothing there for me and try to move forward.

I ensure I tell my friends, several of them fellow bloggers who have been holding my hand all the way through this heartache.   Everyone is supportive and listens.  Everyone keeps me on track.  I have to hold myself accountable.

But that little voice that says “Fuck it – call him anyway!!” persists.

Go away voice.  You are wrong.  This will solve nothing.

I have the sense of my heart breaking and a feeling of pain in my chest.  These symptoms haven’t hit me in a long while so I am surprised by them.  The tears are flowing easily and I am having a hard time keeping it together at work.  I am miserable. I feel defeated and depressed.

A bitter cold and rainy day doesn’t improve matters.

Making it home, once again falling asleep, I don’t exercise as I should.  I shower and climb into bed.  Talk to my kids a little bit and try to sleep.  But, sleep eludes me once again and I let tossing and turning.

I know I am not waking up to exercise once again.  I also know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself but it’s only day 4 of my “new” commitment to myself and I am already failing miserably.  I know if I get on that treadmill I will actually feel better.

I continue to lie there and cry.

I get in a good long cry and eventually fall asleep.

Then, when I wake up late for work and get moving the next day, the sun is shining, my cramps are gone and I feel better.  The feeling hasn’t dissipated entirely, but it’s not drowning me today.

Out of curiosity, I decide to measure the length of time:

Since I last saw him: 5 months

Since I last heard from him: 2 months

I suppose I have come further than I thought.

Nothing came of this.  My gut was off on this day….I had that sense of dread and it passed.  Some of the depression lingered the next (few) day(s), but more as a passing thought I could get by.  I managed through it somehow, knowing it can only get better.

A week later the feeling hit again. Not as bad the first time and definitely not as overwhelming. But consistent and insistent. Like a fly buzzing around my head that I keep trying to swat away.  It just keeps bothering me.

I wrote him and email I didn’t send.  I sent it to myself and some friends.  All of whom ensured I didn’t send it to him.  I deleted it the next day.

I admit, I will be happy when this is over, really, just over.

When my therapist said “It’s going to take as long as it takes” I sort of wanted to curl up and die right about then.  I don’t want it to take any more time and emotional energy from me anymore.  I am actively doing all I can to be positive and remain in a positive space, but days like this one certainly suck the life-force from me and remind me just how fragile and broken I am after that relationship.

I hate how this still weighs me down and knocks the wind from my sails. Believe me, every day I try so very hard to remain positive and hopeful and move forward.  It’s an awful, terrible, horrible, and gut-wrenching feeling wanting something you can not have, and someone who does not want you. It fucking sucks.

I’m taking bids on a lobotomy. Any one offering a deal?