full circle

. . .from an upward battle of struggles and emotions to a journey of healing, growth, and laughter. . .


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first world problems

Yes, that little phrase puts everything into perspective. So does the cliché “life’s too short.” While it took me years of severe depression (The Breakup), three months of stress leave from work, and a few years without a man in my life (aftermath of The Breakup), I have learned that you can control only your reactions to negative situations. You cannot control other people nor the circumstances. But you can be a grownup and stop sulking about unimportant things. Life is too short to worry or dwell on something that doesn’t involve your health or ability to live, your family, or helping the community.

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I started writing the above post in December, and I see now that I never finished it. It was about M, with whom I am no longer friends effective May 20 due to unrelated reasons.

 


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pull the trigger

I cried myself to sleep last night. Perhaps I knew it was coming. Perhaps I didn’t. But my depression is back. Why else would I cry myself to sleep last night over two men who were each in their own ways my triggers of severe depression?

You know about T, so let’s start there. His 50th is today, and since my 40th in May, I had been thinking about sending him a card or an email to wish him a happy birthday. I was waffling until yesterday. I looked him up on the various online sites I know he’s on. Usually, there is no new information when I am nostalgic and look him up. But this time, I found out that he’s been songwriting with a couple of women. I wasn’t jealous (even though they were half his age). I was happy that he was writing songs again. But I was sad because I wanted to be part of his life. I was so proud when he wrote a new song. He once wrote a song for my birthday. And then I went looking for his songs, so I could listen to them. I was too lazy to dig up his actual CD, so I just listened to one I found online. I was in bed, and that’s when the tears started streaming down my face, on the verge of turning into painful sobs like when I was severely depressed after we broke up for the final time. And it’s not just about the tears – uncomfortable wet lines down my cheeks. It’s the physical pain that’s the worst. The pain that’s still there after I wipe the tears with a balled up tissue.

And then there’s M. I have debated many times whether to write about him here. But it’s such a complicated situation that I have shied away. Just thinking about our friendship makes my head hurt. The very short version of the story is that he and I are good friends but often act like we are dating when we hang out. We’ve known each other for 21 years, but we didn’t become friends until the last 10 years. He was there for me when T and I broke up. But he was also the reason I stood on the bridge in the middle of one winter night five years ago, looking down at the water wondering if I would drown right away if I jumped.

I haven’t seen him in over three months, and he lives five minutes away. When we hang out, it’s great. But when we don’t, it’s like I don’t exist. It’s like he’s embarrassed to be friends with me. He posts photos of him and his friends on FB, but when we went to see Gordon Lightfoot (his bucket list), I was not even mentioned on FB. There are other indications that point to the same conclusion. It’s so stupid. It’s like dating drama, but we’re not dating. Anyways, we were supposed to get together last week, but I never heard from him – not one single day until I texted him on the weekend. His story? Drunk all week. This shit is typical. I have a love/hate relationship with him. Girlfriends make plans and stick to them. And if they can’t, they actually call you and tell you they have to cancel. But what triggered me last night was that his new profile pic showed up in my news feed – him and some woman. Again, where am I in his world?

So, that along with T put me in a dark place last night. I don’t think I need to increase my meds. I don’t think… I just have to get through the next two weeks until my next family trip.

I’ve written before about being content that I’m single. But a part of me wonders if finding a new guy to hang out with would divert my depression. And then again, do I want to deal with a new friend/relationship?

I’m just so sad right now.


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stop it, just stop it

People who have done me wrong in the past need to stop contacting me years later acting like we’re still friends. Just because you don’t remember what you did doesn’t mean I don’t. I value loyalty. I value loyalty a lot {being a Taurus and all}. Trust takes years to earn and a moment to break. We’ll never be friends again. Now piss off.


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drama queen

My life used to be full of drama. In the years I spent alone after The Break Up, I worked on healing—whether actively or passively. After the second or third year, it felt good not to have relationship drama in my life. Early last year (the seventh year of regaining my independence), I decided I didn’t want any drama in my life, i.e. the drama of other people. Just because I am your friend, it doesn’t mean I want to be sucked into your relationship issues or dating frustrations. I will be supportive and provide advice if asked for it, but if you ignore said advice, then I don’t want to hear about it. Because it’s up to you to make a decision to resolve your relationship issues and dating frustrations, not me.

Everyone has a dream job. I have one, too. While I enjoy my current job, it’s not my “dream job.” So, when I had the opportunity to apply for my dream job {ironically, for the second time} last summer, I thought it was meant to be. It was for a foundation that raises money for housing for homeless and low income people. I was even willing to take the 20k pay cut. I would make the monetary sacrifices because this was MY DREAM JOB. It doesn’t come around a third time!

I didn’t get. Once again, I come in second. I took it better this time round. I guess it wasn’t meant to be after all. The next evening, I went for drinks with one of my former bosses, who was a good friend and one of my references. I talked about my various theories about why I didn’t get the job and my feelings—bad and good—about not getting it.

Fastforward three months. My friend had lost his own job, so another mutual good friend and I took him out to dinner. Towards the end, he asked if I knew who got the job I had applied for. I said no but that reminded me to check the website to see who got it. And then he blurted out that he knew who got it—and it was a woman we had all worked with, who, as sweet as she is, is not half as qualified for the position as I was. But wait, it gets worse. And then he said he knows because he was a reference for her, too. Um . . . WHAT?!!!!!

My mind was awash with confused thoughts, my eyes filled with tears. I calmly asked what he meant. He said he was a reference for her but gave me a better one.

I felt betrayed.

I was his close friend. He knew this was my dream job. He never even worked directly with her. Aside from the reference issue, he had months {MONTHS} to tell me that he had been a reference for her. Why now? Why this way?

And he was clueless. He emailed me the next day to ask for the email address of another friend. That was it. I waited for him to contact me and explain. Nothing.

We ran into each other at an event a month later. He said hello—I mumbled hi and went into the room. I think that’s the first time he may have realized there was a problem.

But still nothing.

And then in January, two months after that event, I received an email from his girlfriend {wtf} telling me she was writing despite telling him she wouldn’t, hoped the falling out didn’t affect her friendship with me {wtf}, and that we could still meet for coffee. {this woman is deluded.}

Then I got an invite from him to their party. Nothing else.

A few weeks ago, he finally talked to our mutual friend {the one who was there at the dinner when he blurted out the truth}, and she basically had to tell him what he did wrong. Like, seriously.

Last week, a day before a gathering of mutual friends, he emailed me asking if we could talk to help him understand “what caused the breach between us” and hoped we could be good friends again.

And here I am. I resigned from our friendship months ago. I don’t want the drama. It’s too late. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to dredge up the recent past and go through those emotions. I was willing to talk about it eight months ago. I am not so willing now. I understand his need to bandaid our friendship, but he waited too long. I feel sad that he ruined our friendship, but I’ve moved on.

I had replied to his email and said I would need to think about it because he waited way too long to contact me. But last night as I was cleaning up my inbox, I realized that I have no desire to talk about what had happened. Or repair our broken friendship. I’m over it.

I don’t want anybody’s drama in my life.