Moving Up and Onward...and the Setbacks.

Artwork by Augie Pagan

It's so hard to examine oneself when you :

1) Think you're kind of a mental fuckup even though you think you're relatively okay compared to some of the whack jobs out there
2) Think you're being stupid for getting upset when you come across photos of your ex...two months after you've broken up (granted, from the night we broke up, and right next to pics of my cat Nina who passed right afterwards)
3) Feel one day like you're doing FINE and the next, well, today I guess, like you are not FINE and wondering how the FUCK did that happen?
4) You are very different than you used to be in post-breakup mode; an almost asexuality has descended up on me like a wet blanket.

I think, since my descent into and subsequent emergence out of the nether regions of my mind a couple of weeks ago that brought with it panic attacks, intense depression, and a feeling that I would never again be okay, I have started really to get so much better. I have had all this great stuff happen for me: the article about my being an acting teacher and my philosophy in the New York Examiner, my being added as a staff writer for TheFabMarquee.com, and the putting together of the fundraiser, readings, and all those things that come with trying to stay busy and being successful at it - on top of taking on more work from my day job so I stay late - and it has really helped.

But all that is questioned when you can get thrown off balance just by accidently coming across photos of yourself with your ex on the night you broke up, that you had forgotten about, wedged next to pics of your dead kitty. I find myself hoping sleep will come quickly and I can get off this train to self-pity and mourning.

Mourning for what? My cat, yes; she was my baby girl. I will be having a new cat come by for a visit that I found on petfinder.com - her name is Rain and she's a tortie-maine coone mix, about 2.5 years old. Since I'm running a geriatric center over here for animals, I need to get some young ones or else when they all start to kick the bucket I'll have to be locked up. But mourning for my relationship? Still?

I'm not used to this. I'm older now...and I'm amazed that it takes so much longer...even though months ago I knew that this man and I were destined to only be friends, that we just wouldn't be able to make it work, although I desperately wanted to because he was only one of three people since my ex husband and I parted ways that had been a kind, loving person who didn't just want me for a piece of ass.

Getting over and getting beyond...it seems to come only in spurts. What do I have to do, lock myself in a room and avoid all audio/visual stimulation in case Brad finds his way into it?

We talked on the phone for the first time in a week today; second time in two weeks, as per my prompting that I just couldn't talk to him and recover. But we spoke like 10-15 times and at one point, it was like we were having conversations that we used to have: how to help him pick out a printer...things like that.

It really was okay until I saw those pictures. Then my mind went into a gridlock.

Artwork by Clint Scism

I know eventually I will be okay, but want that to be now, because I have to be around this guy a lot over the next few days and suddenly I just want to stay at home and not go anywhere, not be anywhere near him, for I am afraid that I will cry. And the strange thing is, is that if he suddenly said to me, "Dianna, everything was a big mistake, we should try another chance," I know that it wouldn't be worth it because it wouldn't work. He can't give me what I want...and I can't do the same. We can give love and friendship and loyalty...but sometimes that isn't enough.

And I want to know, when those things aren't even enough...what is everything worth anymore? Just sex? Just pet dander and allergies?

I have to now spend the rest of my evening trying to forget these past two hours...and try to move on. I have a man in my life who adores me and I adore him, but I can't be intimate with him because I have this fucking block. It's not fair.

I just want to move on like Brad has.

Couple of things I want to just say, for the record:
1) I'm so sorry that my first time at a Yankee Game in old Yankee Stadium was with him. On the night we broke up. I am forever disgusted by that and will try to really think of the next time I go to a game as the "real" time.
2) I'm so sorry that my first cruise was with someone who I was broken up with two months later. And that during that cruise my hopes for our relationship were suddenly increased to the point that I thought it was actually going to work...only for it to come crashing down.
3) I'm almost sorry I met him...and then have to say no...THAT was worth it. For it was. I just wish that so many firsts for me were not with him - for I really don't think he was worthy of being "my first" of anything...since he never gave enough of himself to me like I gave to him. He tried...but his giving of himself and my giving of me are like night and day.

Sigh. Sorry to bore...but I'm sad and angry at my being sad. That's what sucks...when you can't even cut yourself a break.