Wednesday, November 01, 2006
These last few days have been the wierdest of my life. Many of you read this blog daily and have probabley read the blog that I wrote and have since deleted.
One of my biggest failings in life is my impulsiveness. There are times when it has held me in good stead- like when a great job came my way and I took it, or when I met J and decided to move in with him. That being a good thing being debatable right now of course, but at the time it was.
But my impulsiveness can take me bad places too. Like this weekend.
Thursday night J called me, just to talk. Ok that was a surprise. Friday he called again. He wanted to see me Friday, but both of us had prior committments. So he organized to change his plans for Saturday, and I shuffled mine around and he told me to call him when I got to Boston. This was my first impulsive move I shouldn't have made.
When I got to Boston I called him, and he told me to just go home, because he had not cancelled his plans. I got angry. I mean I had PLANS in Boston on Sunday, I didn't want to go home and then come back again. I had shuffled things around for him, and he didn't have the courtesay to call and cancell in the morning. So I convinced him to let me stay the night while he was out. This was the second move. I should have gone home.
After he left, I felt just like I felt for a lot of our relationship. Abandoned. Left Out. Hurt. I started to walk around his house looking at things, remebering. I noticed that my number was no longer pinned to his bulletin board- even though I've changed my number, that thing has been there for years- since the night we met. That hurt seeing it gone. As I was heading back down the stairs, I noticed a journal on the floor. Opening it, and reading it was my third mistake.
Inside was details of other women. Details about dates. Kissing. Sex. There is so much truth in it, details about me, that there is no reason for me not to believe. The pair of shoes that Katy left behind when she and he boyfriend stayed. Except in the journal he was sleeping with Katy. The weekend he was meant to go back and help his Dad with the garage and I took him to the train station. He had a date with another girl. "Little did Jen know the real reason I was going". My whole world crashed. I didn't know what to do. So I ran. I took the journal and went to a friends. But on the way I made my fatal mistake. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to punish him. So I called his parents. I told them he'd been cheating on me. I should never have done that.
Evetually I went back that night. To give him back the journal. Because he wanted to explain. He says the journal is not true. He says he was doing what I told him to do- embellish on his life to practice his writing (which I DID do). I called Tom, my cousin and his friend, and Tom says that there never was anyone else. I don't know what to believe. Looking at J that night, I did. I believed him. Leaving I believed him. Now, I don't know. I don't know what to think. I do know that he will never talk to me again because I got his parents involved. So again, I get hurt and it gets turned around to be my fault.
I tried to just go on on Sunday. I went to Breakfast, and a movie. Gerard tried. But it crept up on me. This cold, hollow feeling in my chest and stomach. The same one I feel now as I type this and every time I think about J. When I left Gerards, I went back to his house. He wasn't there, I am not sure if I wanted him to be or not, and I left a letter in his mailbox. And then I drove towards home.
As I drove, I felt like this cold feeling was suffocating me. My stomach was churning, my heart ached, and a thought popped in my head, or rather an image. Sitting on my bed and writing out a will. I don't have one and that has stopped me once before. Writing a will, and then how easy it would be to take something, go to be, and never wake up. I could FEEL that impulsiveness creeping over me. "No one would believe you'd do it- prove them wrong." "Talking about it means nothing, that's just trying to get attention." These are the conversations I was having with myself.
I am NOT that girl. I am smart. I have a lot in my life. But by this point, J has crushed any sence of strength I have left. Luckily, the Lexapro must have been helping. Becuase I had a shred left. More than last time when my roomate coming home made me stop what I was about to do. I had enough to know I needed help.
SO I called Tonja. My roomate. Told her to hide my Muscle Relaxants and the Valium. Then I called the crisis center. I thought if I could get someone to talk to, I could talk out how I was feeling and it would releave the 'pressure'. But the 'talk' line was busy, and when I called back they told me to come in. And so I did. I ended up being admitted until Tuesday afternoon. It was enough time to condence what I was feeling, and take away the harmful impulsses, and I really didn't need the level of care that a phsyc ward provides. I'm home now, but not 100% sure I am ready to be here. I'm afraid to sleep at night. Afraid to dream of him. I don't like the cold feeling that I still get when I see his face in my mind. When my mind starts with the "what-if's".
I am going to take a hot shower now. There are a lot of you out there who read my blog. Friends, family. I wrote this blog for you. So you know what is going on. To tell you to go easy on me for a little while. Please don't ask me to talk about this. Because I can't- when I do, I get a horrible sensation in my gut and heart and I can't stand to feel that way. I know I need to let myself hurt, and I will, just not yet. If I need to talk, I will talk to you. I love you all.
And the worst part is. I love him too.
By 7:23 PM, at
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