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The doomaversary is looming

13 Jul

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Apologies to all my male readers, but: DEAR GOD MY HORMONES ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.

I’m totally wiped out. I’m struggling to think of a time I’ve felt this tired. Between work going bananas, trying to keep up with all my classes and hobbies and running, and dealing with hormonal issues, I really need to hibernate for some of the summer. Instead I can’t get through a night’s sleep without being woken in serious amounts of pain. Pain, I can deal with. Pain is pain. What is unexpected is the tears.

I haven’t cried about my ex in weeks. This morning I did.

I know I can blame my hormones and I know that this will pass, but I also think it’s to do with the time of year. My therapist has told me before that grief remembers anniversaries, dates and events. It’s like they become hardwired into our system and we have a physical reaction to them.

One of my friends has mentioned the same phenomenon to me before. After she went through an (entirely different but entirely just as traumatic) experience, she found herself breaking down in uncontrollable tears at some point in the future. When she traced timings back she realised it was a year to the day since her life had turned upside down. Weird things, our minds and bodies.

Anyway, a year ago right now I was all excited to be going out to visit him in New York while he was working there.

Little did I know that I would go to New York, and then the following week he would come home and tell me he had never been in love with me.

The pizza of doomaversary is three weeks away.

I’m determined to make it a positive door-closing, moving-on, life-affirming kind of experience. So I’ve booked an appointment with my psychic for the day before, and I’ve invited friends over on the 3rd of August for – yup, it has to be – pizza.

But I’m holding out my paws and asking for help. I’ve felt so good and so relieved the past few weeks, I really hope that once the 3rd of August is out of the way I will feel better still. So I’m open to suggestions on things to do that will help make this a positive experience. Whether it’s nice things to do for myself, therapeutic things, or even things to buy myself because – hell – I deserve it, I want to hear from you.

The doomaversary is looming.

What can I do to make sure it’s an ending and a new beginning?

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Datecation?

9 Jul

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I can’t be bothered with men.

At our company conference on Friday I gave our CFO access to my Tinder account. In fact, I let her play on it for a good thirty minutes or so and hook me up with lots of men. I would like to say “young, hot men” or “eligible bachelors”. But I’d be lying.

It gave me a kick start, though. I’d not been on a dating site in a couple of weeks, and suddenly I had ten guys messaging me. But why does everyone want to talk on the phone, though?

It’s not that I can’t hold a conversation or worry about talking on the phone. I think my voice is nice enough. I can chat away to anyone. But I’m really, really busy right now.

I have no time to spend evenings speaking to men I don’t know. I’m busy learning Italian and going to awards ceremonies and visiting friends and doing yoga and eating olives.

I guess, if I was really interested, I would make time. I do allocate a fairly generous number of hours to my favourite television shows.

So maybe I’m just not ready?

In fact, if I consider what would happen if I actually met someone. Well. Wait. I can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine liking anyone right now. Not in a sad “ohmygodI’llbealoneforever” way. It’s just I’m enjoying getting to know myself again. Because I’ve changed. And I’m so fun to hang out with. It’s nice to rediscover how happy I can be in my own company.

I do want to meet someone one day. Of course I do. But for now I might take a datecation and relieve myself of the boring text chat and ongoing requests to talk on the phone.

Or maybe I’ll just wait for a dude with some decent manners who can muster up the energy to actually ask me out.

I’m a guest blogger today, buddies

7 Jul

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So, what’s going on?

Oh, you know, I’m just guest blogging over at Lessons from the End of a Marriage.

I am totally honoured to be featured today on the blog of Lisa Arends, who has been such an inspiration to me since the pizza of doom. If you’ve never checked her out before, now would seem like the perfect time to make yourself a coffee, find a comfy chair, and read everything she has to say. Plus my guest post, of course.

Graduation

29 Jun

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I don’t remember the exact date (which is funny when I think of all the dates and anniversaries that I do obsess over), but it was ten years ago right around this week that I graduated from university. I was 22 years old. I was blonde (with the help of a lot of chemicals). I was fat (with the help of a lot of burgers, beer and biscuits). And I had absolutely no idea what was next.

Some of my friends were going travelling, taking time off to explore Australia and Thailand and other exotic locations. Some of my friends were coming back to university to start post-graduate studies. I had a vague idea that I wanted to work in marketing, a job in an olive oil shop, and a holiday in Spain booked with my friend Francesca.

But I wasn’t worried. Well, not exactly. I do remember about ten months later having a bit of a breakdown on my parents because I wanted someone to plan things with and someone to help me decide what to do with my life. But for the most part, after graduation I concentrated on me. I lost a TONNE of weight. I dyed my hair back to its natural dark, dark brown. I made new friends through my job. I learned how to run an olive oil shop (funny what you can do with a law degree). I moved back home with my parents for a while, and I learned to enjoy my family’s company in a way that you just don’t when you’re a troublesome teenager, full of angst and desperate to leave home.

Gradually, little by little, my life fell into place. I moved to London on my own. I got that job in marketing, and new friends, new adventures and even new boyfriends were waiting.

Right now, I feel like I’m on another one of these life precipices. I have to cross my paws and hope for the best when I say this but: I feel like I’m over my ex. It has definitely been the worst year of my life, but I am finally emerging through the darkness. And – it has to be said – I’ve learned more in the past year than I did in my four-year university degree.

I don’t think it’s just me, either. One of my greatest supports for the past year has been my blog and my blogger community. I’ve followed many of you on your own journeys as we navigate through the heartbreak and find ourselves battered, bruised, but ultimately changed for the better at the other end of the tunnel. Some of us are even friends now. And I’ve noticed the changes in you too as the clouds lift and you refocus and – ultimately – move on. So I feel like our little breakup community is graduating too.

There’s other stuff going on. I graduated my yoga course last week. Official graduation involved doing handstands which is some of the most fun I’ve had in months. I’m also graduating therapy (although I’m pretty sure that’s not the professional term for it). It’s another story for another blog, but it turns out my therapist and I had a big misunderstanding at the session before my last one. She thinks I’m doing great. And she’s a pro – she knows her stuff, right?

So, ten years after that sunny day in Edinburgh when we got our degrees, had lunch with our families (as you can imagine, fat April particularly enjoyed that part of the day) and then went out drinking and dancing all night long, I feel like I’m graduating from the biggest learning experience of my life.

I’m going to channel 22-year-old April and try not to worry. I’m going to have faith that life will fall into place.

Who knows what another ten years will bring, but I’m making a promise to myself: I’m going to enjoy the adventure.

Stress

17 Jun

There are days that the stress of my job overwhelms me.

Today is one of those days.

I’ve removed myself from the office to sit on some steps outside for ten minutes and calm down. My head is thumping. My heart is pounding. I feel an intense, itchy need to scream.

I can’t help but feel that if I had gone home to someone last night, or woken up with someone this morning, my stress from yesterday wouldn’t have carried over into today.

As it is, there’s no release.

I’ll be a wreck by Friday.

Where does the good go?

9 Jun

It was a year ago this coming weekend that my ex came back from his first stint working in New York.

It was the second worst weekend of my life. (The worst being the fun-filled weekend of the pizza of doom, which was to follow a few weeks later). I came in to work the following Monday and collapsed on a colleague in tears. It’s all a little bit blurry in my head. I guess I’ve blocked a lot of it out because it’s too painful. Or too embarrassing. But I remember telling my friend, “I don’t think he feels how I feel anymore.” I felt like a different person came back from New York that weekend. And this different person was kind of a dick.

But, my goodness, a year ago this week I was giddy with excitement about him coming home. I remember I was on a film shoot and wouldn’t stop babbling away to the client about everything I had planned. I made him his favourite red velvet cupcakes. I booked a table at our favourite restaurant and cocktail bar. I counted the sleeps. I left work early on the Friday. Stupid girl.

Because there was a different energy in the air that Friday evening. As though he didn’t know what to do with me or say to me. But I put it down to jet lag. Like I say, stupid girl.

But this whole concept of energy is something Irish Two and I were discussing recently. How you can sense tension in the air, how you can feel calm in an environment, how energy can be palpable. I’m no physicist. So it’s actually from a book about ghosts and ghosthunting that I discovered you can’t destroy energy – you can only transfer it. Yeah, I think most people learn this stuff at school.

So if you invest so much energy and so much of your being in loving someone, what happens with all that love? I was a good girlfriend. No, a great girlfriend. But what’s become of all that energy? I guess that’s why we are programmed to try and find someone to fill the void. Because we have all this energy and capacity for love which is suddenly rendered redundant. But it’s such a positive force. Where does it transfer to? And is it ultimately just going to be wasted?

Where does the good go?

 

Happy Birthday to me

2 Apr

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Hello, 32.

Let’s make this a good one, please.