Tag Archives: progress

Why can’t I stop

12 May

1. Obsessing over the fact (which is actually more of a hunch, an intuition) that he’s with someone else.

2. Crying. I’m on vacation. Come on!

3. Imagining this hypothetical new girlfriend of his meeting his family, meeting his friends.

4. Thinking about him at all.

5. Going over and over and over the words “it’s not fair”.

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.

Ugly aggression

27 Feb

I think I have a few issues with displaced anger.

I’m so mad at my ex. So mad. Mad at him for treating me like crap. Mad at him for saying he loved me when he didn’t, and saying he wanted to marry me when he didn’t, and hassling me to move in with him. Grrrrrrr. Mad at him for not loving me.

I’m also mad as a March hare about some sh** that went down with him. Like when he got paint on his stupid shoes and trampled it into my carpet. And the time I made him breakfast, then went to the supermarket to get food for him staying that week, and when I got back he was still on the sofa in his underwear and hadn’t even put our plates in the sink, let alone the dishwasher.

Ahahahahahhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Problem is, I have no outlet for this anger.

Except Irish Two.

Irish Two is a curious cat. He’s pretty much not affectionate. But he’s not a bad person. No, no.

Last night he stayed at mine. I had seen my therapist after work so a few issues were fresh in my head.

As a result, I slept very aggressively.

I’m ashamed to say that I kicked him in his sleep. I pushed his head off my pillow. I shouted at him to stop snoring and stop moving around.

I apologised this morning. I truly felt terrible about it.

And even angrier at my ex for turning me into this cold-hearted person who attacks others in my sleep.

What a bitch.

Confusion loves company

18 Feb

The best thing about writing a blog is that you get a whole bunch of new friends.

Especially when those friends are going through exactly the same things that you are.

While my real-world friends are getting married, having babies, and generally being blissfully happy, my dear blogger buddies are feeling the same things that I am. Misery. Pain. Shock. Little bursts of hyper happiness. And confusion. We’re a complex herd of cats right now.

Back in August when I started my blog, I was so deeply, deeply heartbroken. Nothing comforted me more than hearing the stories of others in the same situation. And getting to know others in the same situation.

You all know who you are.

In fact, we’ve often mused over how insane it seems that we experience the exact same feelings at the exact same time. Like were all living by some breakup calendar.

What surprises me now, six months on, is how our paths have continued to collide. Now, I find myself “seeing someone”, as many of you are. And I’m confused as f***. As many of you are.

A couple of days ago, luciddream85 asked, “What are we supposed to do?”

Though I know she was feeling and sharing despair at the time, I loved this comment. It hit a nerve. There’s such empathy in this question. Such a sense of community.

Because things do get easier, but it’s still one hell of a bumpy ride. Well, there aren’t any heartbroken cats I’d rather be on this rollercoaster with.

Here’s to the next six months, buddies.

Love you lots.

I’ve made my choice

10 Jan

I’ve been a bit bad at blogging recently.

2014 is off to a crazy busy start. But, I am over the fricking moon to tell you that I’m enjoying it.

Sometimes I find myself almost hyper with glee that I feel normal again. And that I can watch TV without crying. And sleep. And eat. Oh, it’s all just so much better than I even remember it.

I’m also feeling very grrrrr about everything. I lost a lot of 2013 to sadness and that makes me angry.

After all, I’m pretty awesome.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m ever so slightly in love with the TV show Nashville. Ooohhh, I’ve listened to this song so much recently…. And just like the singer herself, I’ve made my choice between heartbreak and revival.

 

Something that happened last year

6 Jan

I haven’t been writing as much recently.  I haven’t really felt the same need to get the nasty things in my head out and onto my laptop screen. Because there haven’t been that many nasty things hanging out in there. Honestly, my darkest moments come when I dwell on the amount of cheese I’ve eaten over Christmas and the fact I fear I have put on around 100 lbs.

It’s dark and dreary outside, but in my head springtime is already here.

When I saw my counsellor before Christmas she said, “I’ll see you in the new year. And the new year can do all sorts of things to people.” I wished her a Merry Christmas and scuttled off down the street thinking how silly she was. It’s just a new year, after all. It can’t change anything.

I should have known better.

My counsellor is never silly. She’s an absolute fricking genius.

Indeed, I feel different. I feel better. I feel more like me.

I always knew – even through the depths of my sadness – that there would come a day when the pizza of doom was just something that happened to me once. Finally, I’m starting to feel that way. 

And I love being able to say that it was, “Something that happened last year”.

A little reflection

21 Dec

Today I went to see the psychic who I saw the week after the pizza of doom.

It was a good experience. We concentrated a lot more on my career and what the hell I am going to do about that area of my life. She assured me, once again, that I am getting married and having two kids. And she seemed to know exactly how I feel right now. Mainly that I am slapping on a big smile for Christmas, but regularly crying because I’m terrified I’m going to spend my whole life alone.

Just as interesting, though, was my journey to her house. The same journey I made on the 10th of August.

The 10th of August was a hot day. I was wearing a crumpled dress and flip flops because I had no clean clothes and no ability to dress myself. I had no makeup on. No jewellery. My hair was wet. I stopped at Starbucks on the way and sat shaking while trying to drink my coffee. I listened to Taylor Swift as I walked up Holloway Road. I met the psychic and almost immediately burst into tears. I spent an hour wiping my face while she assured me that, “This had to happen.” A mantra I have repeated to myself ever since. I left and sat in the park with my friend Trudi and her kids, trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of them saying cute things and doing funny things. And the I got the bus home, wondering how the hell I was going to get through a Saturday night in my flat, on my own. I was actually terrified.

Today was quite cold, and very rainy. I wore a clean dress with warm tights and my winter coat. And a hat and scarf for good measure. And all my usual jewellry. And makeup. I stopped at Costa on the way and treated myself to a full fat gingerbread latte. I sat and drank it, watching the rain, and people rushing around doing last-minute Christmas things. I listened to Christmas music on my way up Holloway Road. I chatted away to the psychic, about family and work and dating. I left, went into town and picked up some odds and ends that I still needed for Christmas. And when I got home, I immediately put on my pyjamas and revelled in the warmth of my flat, the smell of my scented candles, and A Muppet Christmas Carol.

I cried tonight. Hard. I was thinking about how my career is as successful now as I could ever have hoped it would be. But I’m the most unhappy I have ever been.

Then I thought back to the 10th of August. And the week before that. And I realised how far I’ve come.

This had to happen.