Qulams

It's been over 3 years since that disastrous night with Sean went down and despite coming out of the situation in a better, healthier place...i fucking hate that I am still plagued by that night and the aftermath. I hate that I carry his words with me, even now, even after all this time.

I've been having a pretty shitty couple of weeks. Nothing major, just anxiety related stuff that has made functioning like a semi-normal person a hard task to undertake. Kat is being difficult and needy which only makes me needy and cranky. Last Friday after work we had tentative plans to grab dinner and see the new Ghostbusters movie. Her brother has been having an equally shitty couple of weeks so she invited him and her bf Mark to dinner and the movies. BUT during work that day 'the boy' asked me to chill after work with him. I texted Kat immediately and told her that I would probably have to skip dinner but would meet them all at the movies because something came up (followed by emjoi eyes and a wink). She went batshit and said that I made plans with her first so i couldn't skip dinner cause her brother was looking forward to the night.

Needless to day the boy and I did not hang out that night.

On top of my continued issues with Kat, my mom and I are in the midst of a mother-daughter argument that has brought out the petty 16 year old me who went out of her way to make sure people knew when they were being ignored. My mother is my best friend and that is probably why when we do argue, which is rare, it feels like having an argument with a friend rather than a mom. We've been passive aggressive to each other the whole week. Work, oh work, is becoming stressful because they want me to give me more responsibilities, since I am doing so well at my current tasks.The problem with this is that by dumping more work on me, it has sort of prevented me from excelling at my actual job. I feel like they (and maybe everyone in my life) thinks I am a swiss army knife, capable of performing all sorts of functions upon request. I am definitely not a swiss army knife. I am a tight rope walker: just trying to balance myself on the line so I don't crash into the ground.

Pfft. Splat.

When I am anxious, like i am now, my sleeping habits are terrible. I generally am a perfect sleeper. I am like a cat, I can  curl up anywhere, anytime to take a nap that turns into deep sleep pretty quickly. I fall asleep fast and can clock in 8 hours of uninterrupted shut eye. But that is when I am not anxious. When I am anxious, going and staying asleep is a struggle. My mind wanders, my body is tense, i drum up every single thought and explore it with frustrating vigor. The other night I went to be around midnight (cause the DNC has been killing it this week) and woke up at 3 and could not shut my mind off to return back to sleep. I was miserable and cranky the whole next day and instead of resting peacefully when i  got home the restlessness remained.

Like most things in my life I am ruled by cycles and my general unease and anxiety is almost always related to something in the universe. July tends to be a hard month for me in many ways. It's a humid, sticky, uncomfortable time of the year. I am a Spring baby who loathes the heat and the shine and desire for activities outside of my house and July is the epitome of summer and I just can't handle. But as I was tossing and turning the other night, it finally dawned on me: 'it' happened almost 3 years to the day.The disastrous night at Sean house that could have been nice and murky and disastrous which instead turned out to be awful, swamp-like and disastrous. Over 3 years since "it" happened things said and both unrevealed.

3 years since he showed me who he was like a moth emerging from a cocoon. 3 years since he freaked the fuck out at being exposed and revealed. At being naked and vulnerable and in need of someone like me. And because he felt all those things ( i imagine) he lashed out and said I wasn't good enough, that I would never be good enough out of both honesty and fear. He said I was a mistake and that he never saw a future with me at all because he wasn't a attracted, he was never interested.

3 years since I understood what it meant to pitied for the 2nd time in my life. The first being when Marie died. I knew something was wrong the days leading up to her death. I know that she was in trouble and I kept calling out for someone to take my fears seriously. It would not have prevented Marie from dying but it would, in many ways, have validated that i saw her too, a butterfly struggling to hatch. I saw her too and I knew she needed me. And when she died, I just remember how it felt to be watched by everyone. how they pitied my foresight and small voice.

The 2nd being that night in Sean's car, during our confrontation. There was initial awkwardness and unease when we both made the decision to talk about the night before and everything (said and unsaid) that happened. I began to tell him that I cared for him but that I didn't feel comfortable with everything that happened the night before because he was in a relationship. I told him that unless things were clearer between us we couldn't do what we did the night before. I told him that i saw him, that night, that where i held and caressed and loved, he revealed himself to me. I saw him.  But instead of confronting my fears, validating my voice and maybe even my body he diminished me. He devalued my worth and then looked at me with pity:

"why would i ever be with someone like you" and every ugly thought that i've had about myself, every reason for not wanting to continue and be a person were validated selfishly by him. And it broke me. It continues to break and chip away at me 3 years later. How is that fucking possible. Today is his birthday at date that I hope i'll forgot sooner than later and I am so frustrated by the stupid residual pain left from the mess we both made.

I worry constantly that I am so jaded by the Sean situation, I won't know how of if I am able to open up to someone in that way again. I mean, don't get me wrong the last 3 years have been extraordinary to say the least.  I live in a great place, I can pay my bills, I have friends and a life that I am so grateful and proud of. I am not that girl who Sean looked down on in this car, I am not that girl who people starred at after Marie died. I am different, essentially the same heart but the parts are rearranged. But these affirmations about my life now doesn't mean I don't worry. I am still a girl who lost her best friend. A girl who worries that I cannot hold on to people. A girl who wonders if I will ever be good enough for anyone to stay.

And despite moving on from several bad moments in my life, despite coming out of the other side a little stronger though banged up... I worry and I wonder how much of what I still carry with me might prevent from me from fulling moving forward.