Intro: I started typing this without direction, and came to a genuine realisation part way through. So then I set the title. So bear with me if it seems a bit disjointed at times – you’re following my thoughts. Thanks for reading.
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If you take a look at what I’ve done with this blog, it is a 100% authentic representation of how I approach things.
I start. I try. I really mean it. I pour my heart and soul in, and believe I can change and make a new start… then it’s 4 months later, I’m sat on my sofa in tears at nothing and wondering why.
I don’t know why I’m sad. Interestingly, I was thinking that maybe the cloud was lifting. But when I look back over the 4 months since last I posted here, frankly I don’t know why I’ve been feeling a little better, or why I’m suddenly thrown into free fall. So, here’s my 4 months:
- Lost out on a promotion at work
- Moved house
- Had 3 family members move in with me for a couple of days, which became a month
- Mum has been really sick again – 3rd time this year that I’ve wondered how she’ll pull through
- Got someone who said she’d be my sponsor at OA but it fell through
You know what, it’s the first and last of those that affected me the most I think. I’m no good at dealing with rejection. And by no good, I mean absolutely incapable to the point where it’s quite debilitating at times. Actually, more debilitating than I realised I think – and trust me, I’m not completely without self-awareness.
I’ve been in love 3 times, 3 times not the one to end the relationship, and the last time involved deceit and lies and I was more heartbroken than after longer more serious relationships ended. That relationship – if you can even call it that – ended in December of 2014. We met to discuss in January, spoke once in March, and that’s it. I’ve learnt through Facebook that he ended up with the other woman, who happened to be my friend at the time (I promise, this is so complicated, but she genuinely did nothing wrong); they marry in a few months time. And I’ve not been with anyone since. In a desperate attempt to prove to myself how OK I am, how able I am to move on, I hooked up with a guy I met in a nightclub abroad in 2015. And that’s it, not a sniff since.
I think about online dating, because I’m lonely. Sometimes I start. And you know how it goes?
I start. I try. I really mean it. I pour my heart and soul in, and believe I can change and make a new start...
…and then nothing. I don’t get “matched” or “swiped”, not so much as a dick pic. Seriously. And it’s heartbreaking. I can’t handle the rejection.
Every single night I go to bed, I will spend the first 20 minutes at least wondering, will I ever share this bed with someone? Will I feel skin instead of sheets? Will I hold someone in my arms, instead of the teddy bear I’ve had since I was five? Will I ever hear someone say “I love you”?
I’ve lost hope. I believe the answer is no. When I lose out on a promotion at work, I feel rejected. When someone says they’ll be my sponsor at OA, and they don’t hound me and make me commit, I feel rejected. On Christmas Day, when I open presents from my family, I’ll be disappointed at every one that I asked for (why can’t they think for themselves because they know me?) and I’ll be disappointed at every one that I didn’t (why would they think I’d like that? Is that how little they know me, or do they just not care?) – and I’ll feel rejected.
I think I felt a bit better because I had family living with me for a while, and I felt needed. I didn’t feel wanted – I never feel that way – but needed is good enough. If I earn good money, my family will need me when they’re badly off. If I continue to contact my one or two close friends even when I’m depressed, and hide my depression from them, they will turn to me when they need someone. Needed is the best I can do.
It’s all so much about feeling rejected. I don’t know how to fix it, either. I had this wonderful moment a few days ago. I woke up on Sunday and I felt OK. I was motivated to go to the store and buy fresh vegetables and tasty, healthy ingredients. I cooked for 3 nights in a row. I made homemade lunches. And I don’t know why that’s crashed again.
Well. There’s no happy ending here is there! August was one of my lowest times, when I was writing here. For the past few days I’ve been thinking about writing here. I still don’t know if it helps me, or anyone else. Maybe if you’re reading this, it’s because of the OA tags; if so, how did you do it? Did you do it? I can’t break the cycle. I am obsessively overeating, piling weight on, not taking any kind of care over myself, and I’m so desperate for a change.
I’ve been staring at the screen (and searching images to pop into the blog post) because I don’t know how to end. I wish I could be “mindful”, “grateful”… maybe one day I will be. But I don’t feel it. So maybe, more than anything else, I’ll wish to be hopeful this Christmas.
Family, Fears and Food 