Gray. And more gray.

I'm not doing well. And I don't mean in a throw myself a pity party and wallow kind of way. I'm actually worried about myself. And still torn between courses of action. I thought about driving ten hours to where E lives. For the last week or two that thought gave me some sort of comfort, a sense of control. I could decide at any point to do that or not. I was going to leave tomorrow. Except that I talked to him last night. And he told me he is using his one day off to drive to see a friend whose father just died. Good guy right? That's what a nice person, a thoughtful friend would do. And yet I can't help but think he has a day off and he's going to see his friend and not me. I am not an emergency. I am not a priority. Except that I should be. A friend in need should be visited, should be seen. But when your entire life and relationship is falling apart and the person you love is depressed and miserable and having constant breakdowns, and you're using your limited amount of time as an excuse for why you can't be there for her, then maybe the best course of action is to delay seeing that friend, to send flowers and a note and a call to that friend, and deal with what's really important.

And what's worse is that I can't tell him this because he already constantly thinks I'm criticizing him, nagging him, blaming him. To which I would say, then quit screwing up. Quit being a coward and make a fucking decision. And maybe that is his decision. Treating me like this should cause me to make a decision. But I can't. It's killing me. Wow. This is really bad. And not at all my purpose when I started writing this. What I was going to say is that I talked to him yesterday and a part of it was nice. I don't feel any better. At all. I don't feel loved or wanted or prioritized. I have hoped and been let down so many times. And he still won't give me a clear answer. How would this ever survive? I don't know. But I have to feel like I did everything I could. I won't be able to move on if I don't.

He told me I should have gotten a job by now if I wanted one. He doesn't understand that I'm not doing that because I'm making him my first priority. But he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be responsible. He's willing to risk losing me. If I did nothing to fight for this he would just move on. Again. I'm always pushing and pushing and hoping for a breakthrough. I can't decide whether to keep going or give up and move on. But I tried to move on and it didn't work. It made me more miserable. I don't think I'm there yet. But I need to expedite the situation or it's going to kill me. Which is why I'm trying to take control of it. Which is why I was going to drive there. I think I still might. It may do nothing. But right now I am doing nothing. And maybe it will feel like I'm making a step I need to make. I don't know. I just need to keep it on the table. I'm considering going on the 14th. Monday. Right now that's the most logical time. He doesn't have a day off. But if he did he'd probably be visiting a friend. God, this is so pathetic! It's unbelievable. I never ever thought I'd end up in a situation like this. And he somehow justifies it. Rationalizes the whole thing. Seems to question my very worth as a human, as a partner. It's humiliating. How is it possible to love someone so completely, to be willing to do anything for him, and then be treated like this? I am not that type of person. I don't know how it happened.

But now I have to get through it and out of it somehow. It's not coming easily. And I can practically feel myself aging and time slipping through my fingers constantly. I have decided on two things. They may change. But right now I need some sense of control to pull myself out of the icky mess of stagnation that I'm in. He says that he is going to come see me this weekend. I don't believe him. It's in six days and he doesn't have a ticket. I'm not going to count on that. I'm going to plan to drive there on the 14th. I'm going to leave at 7 AM, which with an hour stop, should put me there at 5. Maybe I'll leave at 8. He's never off work by 5. I'm not sure yet whether or not to tell him. Because knowing him the whole thing will go to hell and he'll have something else going on or be out of town inexplicably or have a friend over. And that will just be extremely frustrating and humiliating. And he won't have time to talk. But it will be a gesture. It will make me feel like I've done something. Like I have some sense of control. And I hate to admit this, but my body is aching for affection. Not sex, just being held. At this point I would probably let a convicted criminal spoon me. Maybe it would destroy me emotionally to sleep with him (and I really mean sleep, not "sleep"), but it might be somewhat healing. I don't know. I will report back. His birthday is in a couple of weeks. It may mean nothing to him, but I decided I'm going to give him a present. Which may seem ridiculous to people. But people won't know. It's none of their business. And this is a person I've loved and been with for years now and I am taking the high road. I never want him to be able to say I didn't do every positive gesture, to ever say that I was mean or neglectful or anything else terrible. I figure if we are ever together, it will have been something positive, and if we're not, I will have done all I could and it will be easier to move on. I hope.

The second thing is that I'm going to continue in my life, at least in action, as though I am not going to be with him. This may take awhile to fully take effect. But I have to do it. He told me to get a job. Away from him. What more do I need? I cannot count on a miracle. At the same time I can't play games or feel like I'm not being honest with him about my feelings and needs and desires and like I've done everything I can for this to work. Plus there may be literal deadlines because I will have to make grad school decisions. It may make me go through emotional hell again, but I feel like it's better to spend some time trying to make this work than giving up now. At least we'll know. Not that maybe it's not known now. But it's not. Not to the deepest part of me. And that's what matters. I'm in hell now. I can go through a different kind of it if it will bring me knowledge and clarity and the ability to move forward. I wish I could drop it. Honestly I do. Of course I also wish he would just love me and treat me well and make a commitment to me and we would live happily ever after. But if that is not going to be possible, then I wish I could drop it. Get over him. Have an E substitute waiting in the wings. Start planning a wedding. But all of that is crazy. It is a gray issue, as all are.

I am going to have to strike a balance between persistently pushing him to make a decision, no matter how hurtful it is, because I have realized I cannot give up on him on my own and I cannot continue living in waiting. It's devastating and humiliating. And moving forward with my life. Because I am depressed. And it's killing me. And I'm not willing to waste my life. I have to move beyond this. But I'm afraid what will happen is I will make a move and he'll say, see, I guess it's not going to work, I guess this didn't really mean anything to you. It's insane logic. Totally insane. Which is why I don't want to just move on without yes, even more of a fight. It's insane. I know. But there has to be a balance between moving on and fighting. I have to do both simultaneously and constantly reassess as things continue. I am hoping for light. Praying for it. And I don't pray.

I have become depressed and paralyzed. I need to get out of this. I have a headache that is immune to massive quantities of Advil consumption. I think this is a message from my body. And my brain. Save us! You're better than this! In the short term,...dear God it's almost 1:00. I can't believe this. But that's fine. I'm being positive. It's not dark yet. Although it's horribly gray and dreary and rainy. And will soon be completely dark. Awesome. I am going to get up and put on a show on Hulu. I'm going to get dressed, make myself look decent, and go downstairs and eat some fruit and juice and milk and peanut noodles. Then I am going to bundle up and go to the beach. Yes, in the rain and ickiness. Because it is peaceful and I need fresh air and a walk. I'm losing it in here. I'm going to call my grandmother on the phone. I'm going to go to my favorite nail salon and get one of those 10 minute chair massages. Because I need physical contact and anxiety reduction.

I'm going to come back home and straighten my room and start some laundry, and work on my applications and plow through my to do list. Okay, plow is too strong a word. I am going to accomplish a couple of items. I am going to do something nice for myself tonight. I don't know what that is yet. Maybe read a book? Wow, we're digging to the bottom of the barrel here. Should I go by the bookstore? Maybe. But that might be too ambitious for today. I need something I could feel a modicum of excitement about. Cooking? Maybe I could find a recipe and then stop by the store for ingredients? I had wanted to make Julia's boeuf bourguignon. But I don't know if I want to touch raw beef. I thought about a movie, but I don't really like movies. I need to create something. Maybe I will do the boeuf. Maybe the grocery store will be my post massage trip? Wow, I have the resemblance of an actual plan. Yay for behavioral activation! Although I could be losing out on time. Realistically I won't leave here until 2. I would be home around 4. I suppose I could wait and start the boeuf at 8? Have it be an evening activity? To do list first? Yes, I could do that. Or maybe I won't. But it's at least a plan instead of a vast empty nothingness of sadly wasted time.

Tomorrow I am having brunch with a good friend. It makes me upset to talk about my current non-relationship situation, but I just won't talk about that. Because she's a good friend. We have fun together. And I want to see her. And I can't let my depression and shame overtake me. Because they could. If I don't fight them. I'm going to take a shower, and style my hair, and wear something cute. And then after brunch I'm going to go see a movie with my cousin. These are plans. Temporary, but real. And they might keep me afloat. I will go from there. Monday more to do listing? More beach walking? I may even do a beach walk tomorrow morning before brunch. That may be too ambitious but it is at least an option. The problem is that I feel better after making these plans, but then I don't actually want to do them. And that scares me. Because these are not horrible or monumental things. Ordinarily they would be enjoyable. But somehow they're not. Red flag #1 of depression. I've got to get out of it. Maybe if I start doing, start laughing, even if I relapse on occasion, I will slowly move forward, make some progress. I have to.

I spent one entire day this week doing applications that I hated. I am proud of myself. I honestly wasn't sure if I could do it. It was a horrible, aversive, emotional experience with a lot of pressure. But I did it. I have more to do, but I often don't congratulate myself enough on accomplishments, no matter how small. I focus on what I have not done. I made two hair appointments. Got up and went when I didn't really want to. Fought off a feeling of panic at one of them. I know that this signifies major levels of pathetic-ness and distress. But I am not going to focus on that. I'm going to focus on the positive things.

Positive Focus:

In spite of my splitting incurable headache and creeping depression, I am in good health. I am (relatively) young. Age is always relative. It could be worse. I can still reach my goals. My life has not ended. There is room for positive, non-debilitating experiences. I have family members who I enjoy and can actually stand to be around. Not all of them, but there are enough. They have been a support. Even just by existing. I don't know what I would do without them. Even though my friends are sick of hearing my neverending non-relationship saga and feel sorry for me, I have them. I have an entire handful of good friends who are solid people. I might be dead without them. In spite of incredible searing pain from my current experience, I have had 2 truly amazing experiences with love. Some people never even have one. Even married people.

The Escape Begins

The title of this post is actually mislabeled. I have been trying to escape for a long time. This is really the beginning of my blogging about escaping limbo. I am in crisis, a relative term, but crisis. The person I thought I would marry (relatively soon) broke up with me. It was 3 months ago. We had dated for 4 years. I was in the process of moving across the country and making major career changes for him, something I did not enter into lightly. We were on a trip together, with his family. He woke up in the middle of the night and told me he couldn't "do this anymore." It was like the plot of a bad Lifetime movie. I was literally in shock. I spent the whole night shaking, crying, in desperate disbelief. It was literally out of nowhere, or so it seemed to me. I escaped to my parents' house, called them crying in the wee hours of the morning, an adult forced to act as a child. Thankfully, they rescued me. I sought refuge. I tried to focus on just eating and sleeping (extremely difficult things to do under the circumstances) for a week. 

And then he called me. We have talked several times since. He has told me he's sorry, he wants to be with me, in various incarnations. I have felt temporary relief, but cannot take him at his word. Trust has been broken. I do not think it is a coincidence that he had a breakdown when real commitment was imminent. I don't doubt he cares about me, but something is keeping him from this. He is still hesitant, reluctant. This has continued for 3 months, my life on hold, in limbo, nothing changing. 2 days ago we talked for 4 hours. 4 hours! I don't know why it was different. I hit a wall. He didn't commit. He didn't ask me to move there, beg me to forgive him, to come back, declare that he couldn't live without me. As impossible as it seems, we somehow talked about nothing of any significance. He said he had more things to talk about. I told him we were growing apart, that I thought he was avoiding the issue, that he still couldn't commit after all this time.

 I told him this wasn't my choice, that I wanted to be with him, had always thought we'd spend our lives together. He said we had more things to talk about. I told him I couldn't "do this anymore." Not because I don't want to be with him. But because I really can't. My life is frozen. I'm stuck in limbo. He says things that are not reflected by his actions. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I trust him anyway. I agree to talk to him again, and again, thinking next time things will be different. I think he doesn't want to be with me, can't really commit to me, but doesn't have the guts to really let go, to be mature and rational and logical and caring in the process. It is outrageously painful, brain-numbingly painful. Sleepless nights, too sad to sob, gut-wrenching, nauseated constantly, death of my dreams, stab me in the heart painful. 

I said it because I meant it. But not because I don't still want this. I'm just desperate. I was prepared to let go, but secretly thought he wouldn't let me. It's been two days, no text messages, no phone calls. I've had to turn off my phone to save myself from the obsession of checking it. It's been my worst fear, but I honestly never thought it would be confirmed. On some level I still don't. I still have the delusion of reprieve. Or maybe hope? Insanity? We'll see. Time will pass, no matter how slowly, how painfully. And I have to try to take control of it in the process. This is my life. I'm on a mission to escape limbo. And hopefully to find happiness.

Oddly, I found my way into the blogging community through infertility blogs. It's a topic that has always fascinated me, and I related to the theme of loss. I have never gone through it myself, have never even tried to get pregnant, so I cannot possibly truly identify with the plight of infertiles, but their stories provided me comfort. These women were open about their loss, they were strong, and persistent and creative and inspirational. They were dealing with an issue that ruled their lives, but over which they had very little control. I identified with that. Trying to seize control over the things that you can, while acknowledging and accepting that which is beyond controlling. I don't know what category or community my blog would fit into. If anyone has suggestions please let me know. I am writing because it has always been cathartic, because I am desperate and don't know what else to do. I need a channel, a life raft, a salve, an ear, something, to aid me in the journey. Because right now it is really hard. It constantly hurts. The future is unknown. I need strength and comfort.