Confessions from a “loveaholic”.

When dealing with heartbreak, breakups, and that type of loss in general, I’ve always assumed that I needed to “forgive, forget, and move on/let go”. There are many sayings that people have used to cheer others up who are going though that type of… heartbreak (there’s no other word really for what I’m trying to say). I’ve heard phrases like, “To get over a guy, you need to get under a new one”, “They didn’t deserve you”, “You’ll find someone better”, etc. and etc. They aren’t lasting pieces of advice. You can’t cling to these empty phrases in an effort to find the healing you search for, because they simply will not provide it.

I’ve felt heartbroken for the majority of this year… Then, when I think I’m fine and “healed” I go and get sad/ almost sick with the usual depression symptoms that have tormented me for several years. Lately, although I have been feeling a bit better than I have been in the past months, something set me off again. So, I attempt to comfort myself with quotes people share on Instagram, guilty-pleasure shows that have will have me pretty much in a trance for days, or eating concoctions that fill me but aren’t good for me (that one is probably less damaging, in my eyes, because at least, I’d be eating. LOL). I hate the fact that I feel as if I am losing control of myself and my progress this week. I really do, because although I know that growth and healing are not linear it is still so unsatisfying to feel stuck. It’s awful to feel as if you are regressing back into a state/ time of your life of which you are not proud of.

So, while I’ve been kind of down this evening, (thinking and ruminating on negative banter in my mind, as well as the annoying “what if” monologues), it brightened my day to see my cat once I opened the door to my apartment after a long day. After I did so, I wandered into my bathroom (I really don’t remember what I went in there for), but something dawned on me. Not everything about my relationships this year was bad. I mean, that goes without saying, relationships are all beautiful at one point in time. But, the bone I have to pick with myself is the fact that I chose to forget about those good times. Naturally, I could have, it is my right to attempt to let go of painful memories in an effort to feel better. But, in the beginning of the year, I was shown respect, kindness, and a refreshing take on dating. Now, that did end, but I was still shown something I was never shown before.

My incessant depression has clouded my better judgement and stumped my creative expressivity (hence why my writing on this blog is so sporadic). Nonetheless, that does not mean that I am not an expressive, creative, and joyful person that am sure has love to give somewhere underneath all of the resentfulness and pain. Things rarely go my way. The months passed and I gave more of myself than I should have. I carried hope in a wicker basket everywhere I went in hopes that my love would be requited… In hopes that in some miniscule way, I would receive “the gift” of loyalty, honesty, and devotion all inside of the box of a person who would stay: who would appreciate me equally and would in turn stay. Even more time passed, I kept comparing people to each other and hating myself for allowing certain things but doing nothing to change them out of fear, but here’s the kicker. I forgot about January.

In January, I would pray to God for the opportunity to love someone and I received it. Although I am not always clear on the logistics of went on in my former sig.other’s mind during the extent of our relationship. I do remember that he cared a lot about respecting me. I always struggled with self-respect, so it was refreshing to be respected overall. Overall, the experience of the early new-year/ spring, was a beautiful one. It was nice to call someone “my own”. Despite all of the heartache that came after and the mess that was all on me a few months later, I chose to forget that it was beautiful. Remembering that time probably is not necessary for my healing today, but it might be. There were many valuable lessons there that I chose to shut out, because well that’s what you do when your heart breaks: you “forgive, forget, and move on”. In two months, it will be a year in the past, and if there is anything to remember from that specific time, I feel like it should be that I still am me. Yes, I love hard, I love anyone, and I love long. However, by forgetting moments in which those parts of me brought me a positive/beneficial joy, I lose hope in the possibility of feeling a “love that doesn’t hurt”. It is so so easy for me to be a cynical person, but it is exhausting for me so I don’t want to be one.

Something I am confident in, is that love for others is a beautiful thing. Love for friends and care for others is a pretty easy thing for me. I guess maybe I should stop fearing hurt. No one is perfect, I am bound to be hurt, every time, by every one. So… the conclusion? I am not sure that I have closing thoughts, for the remainder of the week I am going to be working on reminding myself that I am blessed, I am loved, and each day is a new one: each day is a gift. Because I hate HATE how worn out, being sad makes me.

If you are reading this, keep me in prayer. I am okay, not going crazy (I hope that’s not the impression received while reading this post), I just need to learn to share affirmations with myself.

The end. 🖖🏼

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