OH WHERE TO BEGIN.
Let's start with the easiest one, my dad. Him and I have never really had any sort of relationship, and by that I don't even really mean that we had a bad relationship, just that we had none at all. I feel like it was established into my adulthood, as I never made the initiative to speak to him and we rarely ever saw each other, that our relationship was past a point of repair. I guess I assumed incorrectly and he's tried to force me to keep in contact with other members of his side of my "family." I always say that I don't have a family because truly, I don't. I have grown to recognize that blood does not have to make somebody your family. I spent my entire life not having any sort of a relationship with these people due to distance mostly, but they also made no effort to get to know me, thus how I feel. I don't have animosity towards them, frankly I take it he's the black sheep of the family so I hold no ill feelings about them, I just do not know them whatsoever.
He's made it a point recently to try to force me in contact with them, I'm assuming so he could still have ties to me in some way if he's the only thing holding me and that side of my family together. I've left it alone and ignored it for a while and I finally got to a point where the pestering and the faking illnesses and emergencies to try to drum up some sort of sob story for me was just getting to be too much. I finally had to confront him and tell me that I do not have a family.
Next, let's go to my relationship ending. F*** him, the end... jk.
Cody and I went through a breakup last year in April right as the pandemic was growing. I was taken aback, I was hurt, I found out details surrounding our break up that caused things to become even messier, and overall I was just empty. We lived together in a little home I thought was perfect and we had to still make that work despite being broken up. Months went by and we tried, but it wasn't working. We ended up moving out and away, and then coming back together again. I was convincing myself for the last year that everything we went through in 2020 was a hurdle we had to overcome. I had to tell myself that we hit a rough patch and some of the best couples most likely will. So long as we found our way back to each other, we could mend that broken relationship. It wasn't broken beyond repair, right? I guess I was wrong.
Things started off okay. We were trying to find our footing in this healing process and I was working really hard on just trusting him and trying to be open with him in the way that he wanted before. I would tell him what I was feeling, what I wanted, when I was upset and what upset me. I also told him good things. He knew I loved him, that I appreciated him, that he looked good, that I was proud of him, etc. I really tried to pour the love on him, but it just didn't seem to work. He never reciprocated that, as usual. I would brush it off in the beginning because, ya know, healing. We got a dog together and spent a year just arguing over raising this dog. We also went through a miscarriage. I haven't told a lot of people, but we miscarried in March.
The lease for the apartment is up and at this point, a year after all of this, I'm still unsure of how he feels about me and whether or not he really sees this as the partnership we once saw it as years ago. We were each others' person and nothing was breaking how we were, not a god damn thing. But all of that has since fallen apart and I'm starting to wonder if this is beyond repair. He doesn't really give me much of an answer to this, always sorta brushes it off like I'm just in my own head. We start trying to find another, better place to rent. That's not working and we start to decide we should rehome our dog. After months and months of trying to make things work for her and nothing getting better, we made the hard decision to start trying to find a better place for her. I hated the idea so much, as did he, because we both loved her dearly. I hated people who do what we did. I tried to make sense of it by thinking of it as a long term fostering. We provided a viable home with love, warmth, food, water, toys, safety, etc. Until she could find her forever home. It was f***ing heartbreaking. I felt like I was giving up a child for adoption.
With this, we were looking for a house before arriving at the decision to rehome her. Cody expressed that he was feeling pressure from his parents and friends to move forward in our relationship. All of his friends are married and have kids or are planning on proposing and doing big things and here we are, with no kids and engagement. Things were asked of him that forced him to really sit and evaluate how he felt about the relationship and ultimately, it just wasn't the same anymore. I was nothing more than his friend. When Cody makes a plan in his life, literally everything shifts along with it. Suddenly he's ending our relationship because he doesn't see a future with me, he's getting a new job and moving to another city. Things were changing so rapidly, I felt like I didn't know who was sitting in front of me anymore. This person that I have been in love with for the last 4 years is almost a stranger to me in a matter of weeks and I think that broke me the most. That again, somebody could shift everything and even I wasn't the exception to the rule.
I ended up moving back into my mom's because I had nothing more than a suitcase worth of stuff and absolutely no furniture to trek to a new place, I had nowhere to go. I love my mom to death, she's the only constant in my life at any given time, understand that. But we have a dynamic that hasn't changed in a decade that makes it nearly impossible to live with, especially in these conditions. I feel a lot of the time that I am her emotional support and more of a parent to her than she has been to me. I've kinda always taken care of myself, a lot of that due to her working all the time (which obviously I don't fault her for). She ended up diagnosed with a brain tumor when I was 14 and had to have surgery that put her out for a month. During that time, I lived alone while she was an hour away doing therapy.
She came back and relied on me to take care of her, to push her, to motivate her to get better. I was trying to do my best while experiencing depression for the first time. I didn't have anything left in me to care. I was scared and worried for her everyday, but for her sake I felt it was nearly impossible to be vulnerable and show her that. I felt like I had to be strong and not express the fears I had and soon enough, that just became a habit. Not only is it hard to be this vulnerable with people in general, but it's especially hard with her because I just can't find it in me to let her in.
I was scared to go back for a number of reasons. 1. The sudden fall from grace. I had finally been making it on my own and I loved having my own place to call mine. Having to face that I have nowhere to go and cannot handle sh*t on my own right now is embarrassing. It shouldn't be, but it sorta was. I left way older than I wanted to be because of her, I didn't wanna be almost 25 and having to crawl back home to mommy. But 2. I know I don't do well there. The last few years that I lived with her, I sank into a really bad depression. I wasn't taking care of myself, I was destructive, it was overall just not a good time. I had my room that at the time, I was blind to, but I was a disgusting hoarder. I never cleaned because I didn't care, I hoarded everything. When I moved out, I grabbed a small amount of essential things and left my entire mess behind. Coming back to that and having to face it was just... a lot.
I had to debate with myself constantly whether or not it was worth trying to stay there as long as I could. She wanted me there, I would be able to save a ton of money quickly so financially, it was a decent idea. The other option was to stay there only as long as it took me to find the first place available. If I were to stay there, the option to really take the time to clean out my room and make it liveable was an option but I just knew I wasn't in the headspace to deal with something so triggering. I slept on the couch for a bit, lived out of my suitcase and didn't really unpack much at all, I tried to ride out the temporary living for as long as I could. Even if I was able to find SOMEWHERE to live, it wasn't going to mean I had enough money to live in it. I didn't have a single bit of furniture. Not a single thing to even sleep on.
During all of that, I was feeling so lost and so heartbroken. Being that I didn't really have a place to be private, I felt like I was always on display. I lived in a common area, and my mom was always around. I loved spending time with her, but I didn't get much to myself. I didn't have time to process or break down. I was holding it all in, pretending I didn't care as much as I did and reverting back to old habits. I stopped taking care of myself, I was smoking and/or drinking every single night. I was even struggling at work because I was constantly just drained. Emotionally, mentally and physically drained.
Sooo.. yeah. That's where I've been at for the last few months and frankly, I'm kinda tired and would like to just be happy now. If the universe could grant me this one, please f***ing do.