Over the past while, I truly believe I have become hypomanic (or manic – not sure yet) again. If I can describe hypomania in the shortest of ways, I just become hyper and I have a constant adrenaline rush. My body feels like it is bubbling all the time, and I have less of a need for sleep (but this does not eliminate irritability – i.e. I can get pretty irritated). Even though I do not smile at times, I do not feel depressed. It is a milder form of mania, so there is less chance I will do something crazy, act illogical or become outrageous. I do not get hypomanic often, because I veer more towards the depressive side. I am basically depressed 90 percent of the year, and then for the other 10 percent, I am hypomanic, which I should actually consider a generous treat from my psycho mind. Who am I kidding? I am psycho 100 percent of the year.
With the exception of one day this week, my mood has been lifted in the most energetic way, and even when I have felt like crying, I cannot cry. I have however not tried to hurt myself. In the past, if I desired “feeling”, I would ‘scratch’ my wrist with a razor just to feel pain and make myself cry. I am not quite there yet; perhaps I am a bit too numb. In addition to all this, I cannot fall asleep properly, and I have been waking up continuously at 4 am feeling completely wide awake. I feel strong urges to talk to people – someone, anyone really; and in some ways, I have reverted back to the “old me – the social butterfly” that JH loves to refer to and misses. The only issue is that underlying all this is still a very unhappy person with a lot of issues. Underlying all this is also an unfocussed person. In fact, the only thing I have been able to focus on (other than work – by force) is my phone really, which I know deep down is dangerous and addictive. I know that if depression were to come back, and I do not see messages or calls on my phone (and I cannot will myself to reach out to others first), it will start breaking me. The phone and social media are both very dangerous. Yet, I cannot seem to focus on other activities – reading especially. I have been trying to finish at least one self-help book from the many that have been recommended to me through my Facebook “coming out”. But, I stare at words, and they just do not sink in. I literally take an hour to properly absorb ten pages – that is how frustrating it is. I feel very concerned with how I am right now because I am wavering. Every time I have been “up”, I have been worried about depression coming back. Every time, it has come back. I understand that maybe if I do not think about it, it will not come, but I felt like I have been already tested with this usual cycle by virtue of what happened on Monday.
On Monday, it so happened that I had no plans or activities after work. No one messaged when I got home. I felt demotivated to message anyone myself (the first time in a while). I tried to read and write, and I could not focus for either. I tried to watch TV, and I could not focus. It was raining so I could not go outside for a walk or run. I ended up crawling into a ball and for the first time in a while I sobbed. I sobbed for an hour because I felt completely alone again. I felt depressed. So, being caught in the middle of depression and hypomania is literally the most confusing scenario for a person. One second, I am quite possibly the jumpiest person in the room, and the next second I am sobbing. I am trying to cope, but at the end of the day, all I just want is stability even if it’s not happiness, just so my mind can take a five-second break. These are all things of course that I will need to raise with my doctors this week and next. I guess it’s just all part of the journey. At least for the energetic moments I can ride the wave. And maybe, in some ways, when I feel depressed, I can appreciate the ability to have emotion.
As per usual, that was the psychological update. But I want to talk about other things. Today, I want to continue the conversation on abandonment. In the post about my mom, I mentioned a relationship that paralleled the way she left. At its very end, it broke me to the core; because the person – let’s call him “8” – walked away and treated me in many ways like my mom treated me – with indifference and absolutely no clarity. The parallels were striking, and it’s like I had to re-live an incredibly difficult moment twice. To be very honest, very few people in my life know about this relationship because it was not actually a relationship at all. I cannot call him an ex-boyfriend, he never met my family or friends, and I never met his. I barely talked about him to anyone. He was not actually part of my “life”. He may as well have been a dream (or nightmare). As I describe this in more detail, hopefully it will make sense. It’s a crazy story really that spans just less than a year. A lot of it was my fault in the beginning, but it was just the very end of it that broke me.
Sometime after my parents’ divorce, I met 8. We were friends first, and I grew such a fondness for him because we had so much in common and I just looked forward to talking to him every day. Where we did not have things in common, we taught each other new things. I was pretty sure that we were going to be lifelong best friends (oh how little I knew). That is how solid I felt about this person, and at the time, I am pretty sure he reciprocated the same feelings. He cared a whole lot or seemed to show it always. He always probed me deep about my family problems and ‘why I was sad’ (while still respecting my privacy). I felt like he understood me more than most people in my life at the time. It was never romantic for me at first, though in hindsight, it might have been for him. It was about a person who could get me, listen to me and be there for me unconditionally – not necessarily as a boyfriend. I basically just wanted a boy best friend – kind of like my original, quintessential Gr.8 boy best friend that I regrettably lost in a whirlwind of stupidity in high school (but have since reunited with – very exciting).
But, as typical as most stories go between a boy and a girl – deep, sometimes unexplainable feelings did develop because of how much time we were spending together – in a variety of settings, from parties to eating out, to just walking and talking around in some area of green. We talked a lot about anything and everything – especially about at a certain time in our lives, moving away to work abroad or travelling the world. We basically dreamed together, and nowadays I find that to be rare in others. At the time, I was really not ready for commitment, and I was very transparent about that. In fact, I was not ready for commitment at all. So, we decided to date openly despite his protest. As time passed, I was still not ready for commitment because of all the problems I was going through in my life. I could not “see him” fitting completely in my life at the time, but I was fond of him and I cared about him a whole lot. I always thought about him throughout my day. If I came across something interesting, he was the first person I would think of to share what I had found. I sometimes felt that I always wanted him around. Maybe in some ways, I was falling in love with him.
He was dating casually, but it seemed that there was something wrong with every girl. So, at some point he stopped dating. He wanted a commitment with me, he was in love with me and he became upset whenever I gave him the ‘wrong’ response – “no”. Truthfully, we had upbringing differences so I am not sure if we would have worked out anyways. But obviously, at this point, I will never know. In my own selfishness, I didn’t realize how all of this hurt him – the lack of commitment – but for some reason, I felt that deferring to his ‘friend’ side, he would understand that I had too much going on at the time to get into anything else complicated, even if it might make the both of us happy. Deep down, I just wanted him to wait for us, for the right time if that even makes sense. I think at some point though, like any normal human being would, he just got frustrated with “I can’t”. In many ways, I understood what he was going through. I was not allowing us to move on because of my own problems. At this point, it was my fault. I can admit that.
The truth is I was falling in love with him. I think, even long before the romantic part started, I was in love with him unconsciously. But, it was not something I was willing to admit to myself at the time because I did not want the stress of pain or heartbreak to add to my problems if it did not work out. The story continues. He met another girl through his family. He decided he wanted a relationship with her, but he did not break things off with me. I crazily did not end things with him either, and I allowed myself to be the side girl. The day I found out he was with her and that he expressed wanting to be serious with her (i.e. goodbye), only then did I truly realize I was really in love with him and I wanted to be with him. I was actually afraid of losing him. My timing of course was all wrong. I went on a rampage to talk to him and to tell him to stop being with her. I even wanted to show up to his family and tell them how much I loved him (he stopped me). But in many ways I was too late. He found a girl that wanted to commit to him, and he wanted to stay with her to see how things would go. When I asked him to be with me in a real relationship, he refused. He wanted to stay with her, but even after trying to break things off with me, he would always come back. We had this insane draw to each other. I couldn’t let him go, and I think the feelings were reciprocated. I think with her, at first it was out of duty to his family, but after some time, it may have been love. He might have been in love with us at the same time. As a result, he insincerely kept both of us hanging for quite a while. But, once again, if I think back, I did keep him hanging too initially with my commitment problems. So essentially, this story just is “ugh” for lack of words.
Anyways, for about two months, he dated the both of us (her in a legit relationship, me on the side), and I tried always to hide my injured pride. Truthfully, she was kept in the dark until the very end, so she may have ‘suffered’ too. I was crazy not to end it earlier, or at the very least just ask to be solely friends again to preserve any sort of relationship. He kept me hopeful, saying he was trying to choose between the both of us and that he still loved me. He could somewhat see a future with me, but he could also see a future and relationship with her. There was something “wrong” with the both of us. I let a lot of his words predicate how I felt, and I became consumed, almost crazy with getting him back. I found myself constantly fighting to prove to him how “good I was”, which kicked my self-esteem to Mars. I also found myself trying to win his attention. I became obsessed, and he took over my thoughts, both positive and negative – all day, every day. I felt weak, and at some points, I did not feel like a strong woman, or a strong anything anymore. I had “deferred to a man”, and it was frustrating. It was humiliating. All the while, he became less and less loving over time. He spent more time with her, and in many ways I could feel the feelings waning. I stupidly did not end it to protect myself even as I saw him slipping away with each day. To this day, I do not know why, but I think I was consumed by my feelings for him and a stupid hope that this was “the guy” (he wasn’t). I think in some ways he kept me around for other non-emotional things – “ahem”.
One day, he asked me to go take a walk with him – almost like the old times, when we were friends. We went for a walk, of all places, through a crowded walkway. As we walked, he broke it off with me (whatever I was to him). He said he could not see a future without her. He actually repeated this exact statement several times in a row as if I could not hear, as if I was deaf. So, right there in the middle of a crowded walkway without any privacy in the world, I was blindsided. There was no respect here to take me to a private, quiet place. I had to be told that I wasn’t enough in the middle of a crowd. I cried and blew up a bit, with crowds and crowds of people moving around us. I did not even know how to process anything. It’s like at that moment in time, everything froze, and all I could process was my humiliation. I was so frozen in my thoughts that all I could do was walk away. So I walked away. I think I looked back after 30 seconds, and he was already gone. Sometimes, I feel like this moment was retribution for every boy I had hurt in life prior. I mean, I broke up with my Gr.8 love over e-mail, and that was pretty brutal.
We would have many de-brief talks after that particular day. I asked him questions daily about why and what happened, and he could not give me a good answer. I got a lot of “it’s just a feeling” and “this is just the way it has to be”. There was also a lot of bullshit like “this is not meant to be”, “things would not be great for us”, and “I can’t cry for you”. Those statements to me signalled that he did not want to fight for us. Through all of the challenges, I was not enough or too hard for him to fight for. I could not process how he fell out of love with me so quickly. He was cold and stone-faced through everything; and to this day I do not know if it was an act, or if he was just an ass really (though he did cry the very last time we hugged). Needless to say, to this day, I still do not have proper closure, even though I have long gotten over it to some extent. To be honest, I was heartbroken. I felt like an inadequate person compared to the other girl, and that my self-esteem had broken into a million pieces.
Despite my apprehensions, I wanted to stay friends with him because of how good that part of our relationship was, the romantic part put aside. I felt that, barring all hurt, I just wanted this person in my life because of how we understood each other. But, he decided also to end our friendship and never talk again. His literal words were “it would be for the best….[ ]…and you have so many other friends”. This felt completely abrupt and so cold – and it made me flash back to my mom and “there’s nothing left here in Toronto”. Our friendship obviously meant nothing to him. What hurt me a lot was that he knew I was afraid of abandonment, yet he walked away (and quickly at that) without really looking back. In the end, I knew my commitment issues were the reason he didn’t fight for me romantically. Maybe he just felt compelled to fuck me over because I made him wait. But, after everything we had been through, I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t fight to stay my friend (well, I knew why from logical point of view – the other girl – but that’s besides the point). So, at the end of the day, the loss of the friendship was even more impactful and hurtful to me. He basically chose her twice over me. He could not see a future without her, but could stand to lose me. I meant so little. And, in a rush of events that I feel never really processed in my mind, I lost someone that I had talked to everyday for a year.
Through social media, I have seen their wedding photos. They look ‘happy’, so in some ways, I guess he made his right choice. I also found my fate and my moments of happiness. But as a result of the twice-over loss with him, I was depressed for a very long time. I started to question again everything that was wrong about me – my body (resulting in eating problems – story for another day) and my personality. I just felt ‘inadequate‘. I felt like a really inadequate woman. And for some time, I actually did feel like dying because I felt my self-worth was so low. I guess my depressive behaviour had existed for quite some time without me even realizing it.
So, twice in my life people have gotten up and walked away without giving me clarity. In many ways, I have still not learned how to properly cope with both their losses. I think loss in general has become a major trigger for me when I start becoming depressed and having suicidal ideations. I always have to walk through their stories again, relive them, and cry through them to get to the other side (i.e. out of the depression). Yet, their memories still live within me, and they get repressed again. I struggle so hard with this. I cannot let go.
I know the stories are not the same of course, but I feel very much that he left the same way she did, and in many ways, both of them found their happiness instantly elsewhere. I was not “happiness” for either of them, and that has always stuck with me. I know abandonment happens all the time, but the scary thing behind it is that the lack of closure sticks. Even all these years later, I still think about both situations and ask myself more questions (my mom more so). I am also rigid scared of abandonment. If anyone in my life tries to leave now I bet I will have a breakdown. But, these are issues I am trying to work through with my doctors. Maybe they will be solved, maybe they won’t. Maybe one day I can just let this all go (especially with my mom; the guy I am fine with never seeing again). Anyhow, I have spoken a lot, so for now, the issue of abandonment ends here.