On his birthday, she read my good morning message and then took a phone break for the rest of the day which left me alone to think and worry about how romantic their day might be. I didn’t so much mind her not talking to me – I am not like that, I just get so insecure when I know that she is spending his birthday with him with her phone off and I can’t even see her for five minutes. It just hurts and makes me feel really unimportant in her life. I know that will fade as soon as she starts being sweet to me, but which she is distant, it lingers over my head and makes me feel like she doesn’t take me seriously.
I have to say that the isolation that this year has not made it any easier.
On Friday, I hope that she was having fun – even with him… It just broke my heart to consider that they would be having a romantic evening alone.
I truly believe they are not in a relationship anymore and it’s not like that but the fear seems to still be very real. I just want to be important to her.
Tonight, I am up, watching my ex’s kid while she goes out with the new girl. It was in the last year that I was diagnosed with PTSD, but it is also the first time I ever went to a psychiatrist. I had my last appointment with him on Thursday. He changed my medication from Lexapro to Zoloft. Tonight, as I am reading about PTSD, I see that Zoloft is one of the four prescribed for it, so I can only hope that it helps.
Since I woke up this morning in a panic when Maddison came home at 6:11 AM from said girls house, I helped my brother by listening to him breakdown for a few hours and I can only assume that he is in there sleeping now. I haven’t seen him in house. I slept until about 4 PM and then eventually I went to dinner with Maddison, where she didn’t eat her food. I spent my last $60 cash at Olive Garden and she bitched the whole time. She wouldn’t hang out with me once we got back and then asked me to watch her kid so she can go out with this girl for a second night in a row.
She thinks I am being ridiculous and another word I can’t recall right now because I have turned my phone off. I have cried so much in 2019, it is embarrassing. There is this hysterical cry that I get into that makes my teeth feel numb from all of the air going across them – it was like that. I don’t even understand why I care so much. I don’t know why it hurts so bad or why I feel so worthless all over again.
This morning when I was getting tacos and I started thinking about the fact that I couldn’t have been awake since 5:30 and that I must have been dreaming, I wanted to figure out how I woke up so awake and why I started crying so hysterically. We watched “But I’m a Cheerleader” last night and they were talking about their root that made them gay. The movie is complete satire and I really want my hair like Clea DuVall all over again now, but anyway, it made me start to think about why I react the way that I do and trying to figure out what my triggers are. I realized that I freak the fuck out anytime I go to bed while my partner, or in this case, ex partner is not home. If I wake up in the middle of the night and they are not there, the reaction is both physical and mental in an extreme way. I instantly imagine every possible, horrible situation. The first time I really remember it happening is when Teal would go out with her co workers from Salt Grass and I would stay at home waiting for her to get home. Once in a while I would fall asleep, and that was always worse. I haven’t really had that many serious relationships, so besides Maddison staying out at the new girls house at all hours of the night, I don’t think that I have really had to deal with it too many other times.
When I try to figure out why this would happen, I keep going back to a memory that I can not even remember on my own. Is it possible that a memory that you can’t even remember could cause awful PTSD issues? I am sure there are more than one reason, many that are related but I’d imagine it all goes back to this one night, a night I have heard about my entire life. It’s crazy how things like that can stick with you. I can’t say the story is ever told in detail but it has come up several times in my lifetime. It probably started with my mom hanging out with her work friends and partying. I feel like she worked at a tool delivery company. I don’t even really know what that means and one night she stayed out real late. My dad couldn’t sleep and I was a young baby. He slept on that couch waiting for her to come home and she never did. That is probably the beginning of the end and may have a greater impact on my life than I had ever imagined.
I cried profusely when she made me take her baby so she could go out with someone else. I pro-actively went by a friends house to get enough green to last me though the long night ahead. She texted me asking me if I knew where her black bra was, because I had helped her with her laundry. That was twisting the knife that she had already stabbed in my back. She lives next door to me. I adore her children but I need to find a way to get away from her. She manipulates me to the point that I am driving myself insane. The psychiatrist asked me if I had any friends. I felt like that was an embarrassing question, of course I have friends, tons. The truth is, when I think about it, I know a lot of people. A lot of people were sad that I got let go, but how many of them have come to visit or even messaged regularly? She ran off most of my friends in the two and a half years that I was with her. I don’t even feel like I like her as a person. She doesn’t impress me and she constantly uses and hurts me – so why am I so worried about losing her in my life.
