Starting Over

Last night I went for a run. I’ve said for years that I can’t run to save my life. The last time I remember running for anything was playing tag in elementary school and the gym class I took in high school where we played field lacrosse and baseball among other things.

Last night I had to be alone, I had to be outside in the dark. I felt the walls closing in on me and I needed to clear my head. A walk just wasn’t going to cut it. And so I ran. I ran until my throat started burning and my legs were sore. I ran until I stopped thinking about him and what happened. For someone who’s never run in her life before, I don’t think I did too badly. I need to work on my breathing, but I’m proud of how many kilometers I ran versus how many blocks I walked.

Yesterday my doctor told me I needed to be selfish and start looking after myself. It’s not something we often hear as a woman. We’ve been raised to nurture and consider others, to always be polite and think of the other person. Selfish wasn’t really in my upbringing as my mother modeled absolute selflessness in regards to her family. Being told to be selfish is somewhat unusual, and yet she was right. I don’t look after myself, I don’t eat properly, I don’t exercise regularly and when I’m with a boyfriend I usually put myself second. Last night I thought of myself and went for a run.

Today is a different story. I’m back to being confused and wondering if I did the right thing, puzzling over the ‘what ifs’ and feeling hurt that he appears to be getting over me so quickly. I want to talk to him to clarify things in my mind, but I know I should just leave it alone. I feel like I want to spend one more night wrapped in his arms while I sleep, and then in the morning we smile as friends and go our separate way. That’s the idealist in me. The realist knows I can’t go there and what is best for both of us right now is for me to give him space and leave him alone completely. I did the right thing and there were so many reasons why we never quite fit together but that doesn’t stop me from missing things about him.

It’s time to start over and get reacquainted with myself. It’s time to think of what is best for me and to get a little selfish for a change.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

You tell me you love me, but you don’t show me. I tell you I can’t do this anymore and you ask for a couple of days.

“We deserve that at least?” You say.

“That’s only fair.” I reply.

But inside I’m screaming and outside the tears are running down my cheeks. I feel sick to my stomach and I know that you don’t really get me. I feel like I can’t be myself around you and you’ve never really listened to the words that come out of my mouth. Like almost everyone else I’ve ever had a relationship with you only seem interested in what my mouth can do while it’s wrapped around your cock.

You slyly denigrate my work- the very essence of what I am. It’s all I have and right now it is slipping out of my hands and you have no idea.

I wake up every morning and I’m angry. I go to bed every night and I want to slit my wrists, and somewhere in between there I lose myself a little bit more. It’s time to get out before I lose it all.

“I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say right now.” You whisper.

“It’s ok,” I say soothingly, “You don’t have to say anything.”

And just like that I’m once again thinking of someone else’s needs instead of my own, regardless of the consequences to myself. Tomorrow I call my Doctor to up my meds before I do something ridiculous.

Writers Paralysis

I haven’t written a single thing for my degree in almost 4 months. It’s a bit of a shocking realization, and yet not a complete surprise. I’ve worked myself up into a complete state of writer’s block, and worse than that paralysis since I can’t even open up a word document to try to peck away at it, let alone sit to write an entire paper. My mother is beyond concerned but there’s little she can do to force me to finish my two outstanding papers. The consequences of having an incomplete course that is now almost 1 year old is something I don’t really want to think about at the moment. It only fuels my paralysis and feelings of panic.

An acquaintance of mine from the old University had a similar problem in that she was having issues committing to a topic and writing anything coherent. She finally went to the graduate coordinator to explain that she was having significant difficulties and to seek some advice. This is the gem that the grad coordinator left her with:

Grad Coordinator: “Simply stop talking about it and get some A/C.”

Her: “You think I should get air conditioning?”

Grad Coordinator: “No, you need ass on chair. Start writing.”

Funny, but in the end not the most helpful piece of advice. That being said, I’m trying hard to commit to some “ass on chair” time to hammer out these two papers hanging over my head. To say they’re dragging me down is an understatement. I haven't been able to even write out an opening sentence, let alone an opening paragraph.

An Inauspicious Beginning

School starts again tomorrow and I wonder how I got to the place I am right now. I wonder how I’ll manage to dig myself out of this hole, or if I even can? I think about packing it all in and going home. Of sleeping away my days until everything resolves itself. Yet I know that I’m on my own now and it’s my problem to fix. It is my mess to clean up as best I can, and face the consequences if I can’t.