Troubled

I am troubled today.

Sometimes I can't handle it. I couldn't handle it yesterday, and I can't handle it today.

Sometimes I wonder if my negative response is enhanced by non-related man-hating activities. I found out on Monday that someone upon whom I wish immense ill will got married months ago, and I flipped out. I don't know why I still care. I guess I care that someone else has the life I was supposed to have, that someone could cause so much pain and then go off and himself be happy, that someone loves him enough to marry him and nobody has ever loved me enough to marry me.

I'm a combination of jealous and pissed. This is probably the worst way to feel.

Therefore I couldn't handle it yesterday. I have a vast arsenal of defense mechanisms from which to pull possible artillery, but he really blindsided me yesterday. I chose "Focus on the Positive" and was able to do so for about two hours, during which I comforted myself knowing that this will mostly be over in two months. The finiteness of it is scary, but knowing something is powerful. Having a date on the calendar is good. I said "Are you going to bring someone with you in case you... well, you know... in case you can't call anyone afterwards?" The defense mechanism of "Be Organized, Consider Options and Think Ahead" is a good one too.

He crossed the line big time yesterday. Hugely. You can't even imagine. He crossed the line so much that I literally blocked it out for a majority of the evening, during which I allowed D to cheer me up en route to the hockey game. I blocked it out while watching Arrested Development post-hockey. I even blocked it out as I began to fall asleep during the show. The lights went out and D was chatty, and when he started to snore I had lost the window and remembered and I thought "I can't take this. Nobody should have to deal with this."

Sometimes I feel like my family is like something out of a Todd Solondz movie.

I sat with my eyes wide open, wanting to cry about someone else's happiness (that bastard) and someone else's sociopathic tendencies (that bastard). I wanted to scream. I got up after twenty minutes of this and didn't scream and cried instead, because I want all of this to be over.

No, that's not true. I want it to be 1979 and I want everything to be different.

Or I want it to be yesterday at 5:00 and I want to not do the right thing and I want to not make the phone call.

Or I want it to be yesterday at 5:45 and I want to be having the phone conversation in my apartment and not having the conversation at work and I want to scream and yell and say "What the f-ck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you are still hurting people? SHUT THE F*K UP AND NEVER EVER EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!"

I nearly posted an anonymous Craigslist rant about this because I need to talk to someone about it but I feel like if I even speak the words I want to say I might implode.

Sometimes I am proud of myself for being as sane as I am.

Nobody should have to hear these things. It's weird and wrong and unsettling and wrong and weird and I don't even know. I'm glad I'm, ahem, 30. I can't imagine going through this in my teens.

Anyway.

D and I are going on a date to the movies tonight. I asked him to, because I don't really know what to do with myself right now. I'm trying to remain positive and look forward to the future, but I am scared to death to be immersed in this. What am I doing? I'm scared of the confrontation during which I say "I don't want to see you anymore" or "I can't handle this" or "You stress me out in ways I don't even know yet." Or worse, having to walk through a metal detector to have a confrontation.

D said "He's in war-time mode, where he's just trying to convince himself that what he's doing is right." D is so generous with his opinions, so positive. I agreed, because he probably is, but he's always in war-time mode. He never thinks that he's done anything wrong. It's not what he did that bothers me most (and oh, it bothers me), its how flippant he is about it. I could forgive him if he repents, repents in a way that normal people repent and in a way that makes sense, but I don't think he'll ever be able to do that, because he'll never get it. He doesn't get it. He just doesn't get it. He thinks he does, but he doesn't.

I swear I'm trying to think positively, but it's so much to handle and sometimes I can't handle it. I feel weak when I can't. I hate that feeling.

My hands are really dry. It's getting cold finally. There was a minute of snow today, at 9:55 am. Because I'd been looking online all morning for some sort of support group, I was late to work and walked in just as the snow began! See? Positive!

And D and I are going to a movie tonight, a full-priced one. We've been so obsessed with the cheap blockbuster matinee that we haven't seen a good indie film in a while.

Last weekend was good. There was dancing, and lots of it. In the apartment, in the club, in the street. I haven't danced like that in far too long. Ah, the good old days. Before any of this had happened.

This coming weekend is a long weekend with no plans other than a good ol' sleepover at MY's where we will drink and play videogames and watch lots of movies and never leave the condo.

This week has been a struggle because it is a full week, and I haven't worked a full week in ages.

OK. I'm in a bad mood, but I think at this particular point in time I am allowed to be. Hopefully my peanut butter sandwich that I brought for dinner (saving money! yeah!) will cheer me up.

Until tomorrow...