Fixing Myself #2: Relationships

This is a tough one for me. I mean, it's all tough for me, but at least I know I'm not sharing too much information for myself. I've now set myself the challenge of discussing relationships, in regard to my mental health, without potentially sharing too much about my relationship history and the people involved.

So, I'll talk about experiences I've had out of order, preserving anonymity and making sure to only discuss things which directly relate to me and my mental health. As such, do a bro a solid: if you know me or my previous partners in real life, respect their privacy. We cool?

We probably cool.

So, let's start with the big one: I was in a fairly short relationship at one point which was just terrible, for both of us. I don't think we were really good for each other. She did a lot of recreational hard drugs—not necessarily something I'm against, even if it's not my bag—and, as such, she was never really happy when she wasn't on them. This isn't me being a sap; they were her genuine words.

I take a lot of responsibility for that relationship imploding, even if I think we were both at fault to certain extents. In truth, it's hard to look back at situations like that and think positively about how you were; it ended on pretty bad terms, I haven't spoken to her since, and I knew she was going through a lot in her personal life. I think it's natural for someone who already hates himself pretty strongly to afford a level of blame to themselves. The issue, of course, is how much blame, and the hatred plays with that to an excessive degree.

I don't miss her. And I'm almost certain she doesn't miss me. I don't know for sure, as we have no contact. But the relationship was never gonna work; we started as an open relationship (which was by no means the right choice for either of us in the mental states we were in) and it ultimately imploded before we reached anywhere really serious. If the girl is reading this, I really do apologise for all the wrongs I did. But I still think it's right that we aren't together.

There was another; let's say, we had a weird relationship. We just had an odd dynamic, and, in that regard, yeah, I fucked that one up, too. I could've been better, generally, but that one was just a weird one. I think we were both just not sure how this kinda relationship was supposed to work, so neither of us really did as well as we shoulda done for each other. The key point there is that I wasn't on any medication, and I think it was too hard for her to work with my mental health. Part of that might just be that she's never really had to, part of that might be that she didn't know how to, and part of it might have been that she just didn't think it was part of her "girlfriend responsibilities" or something.

Maybe she's right about that last part, as we'll talk about in the final aspect of this little blog, but I think the mere fact that I had these problems at all provided an unbreakable barrier in the long run, as she grew to resent me for my emotional instability, and I grew to wish she could support me better, which was totally unfair of me; nobody should expect anyone to support you for things they may not know about, or know how to.

Finally, there comes my best relationship. I don't say that as a dig at any of the previous, albeit it probably sounds like that. I think it was more that we were both showing each other the calibre of person we both deserved. I think we both kind of idolised each other in that way, which is not healthy, really. At least, I know I certainly did.

Why did this one end, if it was all so great? I know this girl's still as beautiful as she always was and was so genuinely kind and amazing that I genuinely couldn't believe I'd landed her in the first place. But honestly, my mental health proved an issue. Big surprise, right?

My anxiety kept me up at night, worrying that I just wasn't good enough for her and, while I trusted her to the ends of the earth, it's impossible to accept something you believe to be false, even if it might be true. My depression would always dull her sparkle, always bring her down. And I couldn't live with myself for that; I hated myself for that. And then she'd feel pressured to keep me "happy," which would peak my depression even further because I had such a great girl in my life but I couldn't just be happy.

Sometimes, having everything perfect is horrible for you, when your mind is battling against your happiness.

I never stopped loving this girl. I'd love to say I could just go away, get myself in better shape, and maybe we could pick up where we left off somewhere down the line when I'm in a better mental state and feel less like her patient (which, again, is no fault of her own). But, the truth is, I couldn't blame her for moving on. I need to fix myself before I can love someone like her, and if I've blown my chance in the pursuit of my mental stability, then that's just something I'll have to deal with it. Doesn't make losing her any easier, but it's gotta be done. For my sake.

Relationships are hard when you're not in the right frame of mind, whatever that may be. Maybe later on in this series I'll discuss what it's like to date, flirt, have one night stands, and other such stuff with this mental state. But, for now, I'll leave it with this:

Dating is hard. Dating when you're battling your own thoughts and mind every single day is harder.

As Watsky said in his latest song, "You're tough to love, when you don't love yourself."