Tag Archives: depression

Two years gone by

31 Aug

Hmmm. Not sure if anyone will read this post. I’m not sure what any of my readers are up to these days. It’s been a very long time. So long, in fact, that WordPress has kind of changed and I’m not entirely sure how to use it anymore.

As if to prove that point, my screen keeps freezing. But I’ll keep writing anyway. Because that’s what we do.

It’s been two years and 28 days since the Pizza of Doom, dear friends. Is it pathetic that I know that? Probably. But bear with me. I promise, I’ve done you proud.

Two years ago right now I was still a mess. The man I thought I was going to marry had broken my heart. I was about to start a terrifying new job. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. A lot of the time, I was struggling just to breathe. I know that sounds ever so dramatic, but the pain was physical. And deep.

A year ago I wasn’t sure that I would ever get over what had happened. I was frustrated by my inability to move on. I was angry and bored, and I felt that life had let me down terribly.

Well, dear buddies, I stand before you today (or write before you, I suppose) a new and very happy woman.

Have I met someone?

Nope.

I’ve had a few comical dates. I’ve had a bit of a fling with someone. But I feel so detached from the world of relationships that the very concept of having a boyfriend never really crosses my mind.

So here’s what is going on:

  • Work is good. I’ve worked hard, and I’m enjoying it. I’m travelling lots, I’m meeting new people. It’s exciting.
  • I’m exercising. I swim pretty much every morning. I’m doing Kayla Itsines too. OK, I’m only on week 2, but that’s something. I walk about 9 miles a day. And I’m still loving yoga too.
  • I went to Japan on my own for a month. It was incredible. It scared me, and surprised me, and delighted me. It left me unafraid, with an appetite for travel. And sushi.
  • And the biggest news of all – next month I’m moving to New York. I’m transferring with my work and starting over stateside. Am I terrified? Of course I am. But I’ve come to realise that the scariest things usually work out the best in life.

So I wanted to write today, because it is more than two years, just to say that I’m doing fine now. And, if you happen to stumble upon Pizza of Doom because you’re feeling sad and heartbroken and reaching out into cyberspace, then I can promise you that it will get better.

But, remember, nobody else is responsible for your happiness. Just you.

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Putting my heart back together

28 Dec

I haven’t blogged in a long time.

My apologies, but I needed a bit of a blogcation. In truth, I’m not sure whether I should continue to write here on Pizza of Doom, or set up some new place to post all my ramblings. Not because I don’t love what I’ve created here – I do. But because my life is finally moving on.

This week it will be 17 months since the man I loved – the man I thought I was going to marry and have beautiful children with – ate half a pizza and told me he had never been in love with me. What followed was nothing short of hell. I didn’t know true heartbreak before this happened. I didn’t understand trauma, or depression, or myself.

I remember when, five years ago, a friend of mine had her engagement called off. Her boyfriend of five years had met someone else. That first week after it happened, I reassured her, and I told her, “I promise it will never feel as bad as it does right now.” I should never have said that, because I realise now that she was still in shock. She was still processing things. Her pain would come to a sharp climax sometime later, and then linger for months that turned to years. I want you to know that this friend got married (to someone else) just before Christmas. She has a baby girl. She’s very happy now.

I think my pain was at its worst for the duration of the first six months following the Pizza of Doom. Oh, you can read that pain right here on my blog. But, what scared me, was when a year later – even over a year later – the pain was still here. I thought it would never go away.

Then, all of a sudden, something shifted. Funny how it happens. One day I thought to myself, “Hmmm, you haven’t cried in like two weeks – weird.”

There’s a passage in The Kite Runner by Khaled Hussein that explains how it works with my eloquence than I ever could:

“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

Now, I’m not sure that I’ve quite reached forgiveness. But I’ve reached contentment.

I refuse to feel sorry for myself that I’m still single at 32. Yes, the world is f***ed up for the fact that nobody celebrates you past graduation unless you’re getting married or having kids. But I don’t need to let that drag me down. I’m lucky. I can travel. I can buy things. I can live and create the life I want. And, if someone comes along, fantastic. But I can’t just sit here waiting.

I’ve started making changes. I’ve booked a trip to Japan. I’ve cut my hair (which I hadn’t had cut in nine years). I’m swimming and doing yoga and making sure that I celebrate things for myself – because nobody else will.

And, here’s something, I’m going to Japan on my own. It makes me slightly anxious, but it doesn’t scare me. Before, it would have. Before him. While we were together. Immediately after. I wouldn’t have had the confidence or the guts to pack up and head to the other side of the world for a month. Now, I do.

You see, this experience has changed me. It has totally changed me. All for the better. I am more sure of myself and comfortable in my skin than I have ever been. I’m resilient. I’m empathetic. I like myself a lot. If I do meet someone, if I do one day get to be a parent, I’ll be all the better at it for this experience. I guess it’s our darkest moments that test what we’re made of. Here are some Ted Talks to illustrate my point.

So I need to make a decision as to what to do with my blog. It will be here forever in cyberspace, hoping to offer comfort and advice and reassurance to poor broken hearts who Google points my way.

But I’ve finally put my own heart back together.

What I have

15 Jun

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OK, I’ve thought about it and decided the best way to deal with not knowing who I am anymore is to start with the good stuff. So here we go: ten things that I still really like about myself.

1. I like that I make what is probably the best aubergine parmigiana in the world. No, wait. Definitely the best. But it’s not just the parm itself I like, I like the fact that I only make it for people I love. Because it takes hours to make and stinks out my flat, it’s reserved for very, very special friends and family. I like that I show my love through food. It keeps me authentically Italian. Or at least part Italian.

2. I like that I’m not arrogant. Yes, yes, of course I’d like to be just a little more confident at times. And not doubt myself so damn much. But there’s no fear of me ever alienating people by being an arrogant twat. So, you know, yay me for that.

3. I like how much I love animals. I like that I’ve been helping to keep pandas alive by sponsoring them for the past five years. Not to mention the monkeys, penguins, leopards and tigers who I’ve also donated to. I like that I stop to say hi to cats and dogs who I meet in the street. I like that I can sit in the park for hours imagining the conversations that dogs are having with their owners.

4. I like that I laugh a lot. OK, so maybe the therapist and Irish Two reckon I come across as miserable, but I know I spend a lot of my day laughing. I know it only takes one look at this clip to set me off in hysterics. I know that before all this happened I used to regularly have trouble falling asleep at night because I was laughing so hard at things that had happened during the day. Life is funny.

5. I like that I can make fun of myself. That I know I’m a geek. That when someone leaves a date with me after only 40 minutes, pretending to be ill, I find it humorous enough to post on Facebook.

6. I like that I’m one of the most empathetic people I know. It’s probably because I’m such a bl**dy sensitive cat, so at least I do have the ability to channel that into helping others. And I like that I feel good when I do help others. I’m no saint. There’s nothing selfless about it: it makes me feel nice. But I’d rather that made me feel nice than kicking kittens or tossing hedgehogs at a wall. Or breaking people’s hearts.

7. I like that through everything that happened last year I never missed a day of my new job. I never thought about it at the time, but physically forcing myself out of bed and into the shower when I was lying, sleep-deprived, food-deprived, tortured by sadness, with tears streaming, is one of the bravest things I’ve ever had to do. There were days I considered giving up. I very nearly asked to take a month off to get my sh** together. Who knows, maybe I should have. But I chose to keep going. And I did keep going.

8. I like that I have learned appreciation. Some of my friends met the love of their life before they even turned 21. Some shortly after. And they are nearly all now married and making new people. I’m alone. As far as I’m concerned, life has spoilt them. When it happens for me, OK, if it happens for me, I’ll appreciate it so much more. If I ever find someone who actually likes me enough to want to spend their life with me, I’ll never take them for granted. Never. Ever.

9. I like how excited I get about stuff. I like that I start packing for holidays weeks in advance. I like that I count sleeps and make lists and daydream. I like that last time I went to Disney World (unfortunately the time that I broke up with the ex-before-the-ex), I was so excited I ran out of the hotel room without my flipflops on. My ex sometimes told me I got, “too excited” about things. What a f***ing c***.

10. I like my friends. My real-life friends. My blogger buddies. All of you. I like that I can pick up the phone to people around the world, or type out an email, and know there’s someone at the other end who cares and who’ll respond. And I like knowing that if all these wonderful, smart, funny, caring people value me as a friend, then I must be wonderful, smart, funny and caring too.

Maybe I don’t exactly come across as a ray of f***ing sunshine right now. But as a buddy put it earlier in the week, my beating heart was ripped out of my f***ing chest. I’m allowed to be sad sometimes.

I’ll get back to the person I thought I was. With a little more baggage. But a lot more wisdom. Eventually.

What do I have?

14 Jun

confused-cat

I had a couple of weird conversations this week that, frankly, knocked me for six. “Oh, don’t bother listening to people who make you feel bad!” I hear you cry.

And usually I’d agree. Except in this instance it was my therapist and Irish Two. My therapist is a professional. And she’s never been wrong before about stuff. Irish Two, well, I knew he wasn’t being an asshole. He was delivering some home truths.

I’ve always considered myself a bubbly, friendly, happy joy to be around. Turns out I don’t come across that way at all. I come across as “low energy” and “unhappy”. Or, “nice but sad” as Irish Two put it.

So I’m left wondering: was I always this way? I thought I was starting to feel more like myself. Was I ever a bubbly, friendly, happy joy to be around?

Ugh. I do not want to be a big old drain on everyone else’s happiness.

I lost my mind for a couple of days, emailing everyone I know asking what kind of person they think I am. I also had some email chat with a blogger buddy (you know who you are) who made me feel approximately ten thousand times better.

But when I wake up every morning I’m still feeling confused as to who I am and who I’m supposed to be and who I was before the pizza of doom. Through the whole mess of the past ten and a half months I never doubted that I’m a good, kind, fun, friendly person. If I don’t even have that, then what do I have?

Yes, what do I have?

It’s not an entirely rhetorical question. I’ll answer tomorrow.

Oh. OK. Yeah. What am I supposed to do now?

12 Jun

Apologies for writing less, my buddies. I’m sure you miss my ramblings terribly.

The problem is, I thought I was OK. So I was thinking, “What shall I write about, then?”

And then I had therapy yesterday.

And now.

Now. I. Think. I. Am. Having. A. Breakdown.

For real.

I have harassed a few friends on email today. I have met Irish Two for lunch and cried on his shoulder.

I’m seeing a friend for dinner.

And a margarita.

Keep. On. Going.

31 Mar

cat-mountain

I just stumbled across this picture while doing some totally legit work. Seriously. My job is that silly.

Anyway, check out that furry little beauty. Look at that determination in her eyes. And she must be freezing her whiskers off.

Let this be motivation to us all: however cold life feels at times, run don’t walk towards the sunshine.