How Breaking Up With My Boyfriend Showed Me I'm Stronger Than I Thought

It's fairly common for us to ask our friends and family to describe us in as few words as possible. I had many school assignments that asked me to ask friends and family to describe me in a sentence. Ten to fifteen words, max.

I had a lot of words used to describe me. Some of the most common words tossed my way were: creative, artistic, quiet, shy, lazy, and curious. For all the people who know me, all of those are correct.

But everyone I've ever known has also agreed on one thing. When it comes to my interactions with people, I'm 'socially challenged' to the point that my quiet and shy nature is simply a way for me to mask my inadequacies.

My family thought I'd never date because I have next to no interpersonal skills. I can't read between the lines, subtle facial cues fly right over my head to the point they might as well be a myth, and I often don't react in the way people think I should in less-than-ideal situations.

So, when I did get a boyfriend, my family was shocked.

When it lasted for more than a year, they were hopeful.

Then, on our second anniversary, we broke up. Or, to be more precise, he broke up with me. On a day that was supposed to be one to celebrate, I was instead having to figure out what I was going to do with myself now that I was, once again, a single woman.

In one moment, I was pushed into a situation I had never been in long before I was ready. I was, quite suddenly, living alone and on my own.

The Hardships of Living Alone With ADHD (ADD), Autism, and Chronic Depression

Before 2019, before I was diagnosed with all the above, I had thought that all the things I grew up having a hard time with were my fault. I wasn't trying hard enough. I was lazy. I was unmotivated. All sorts of negative thoughts drifted through my mind, and, more often than not, I believed the things the darker side of my mind whispered in my ear.

None of it was true. It still isn't.

It took my boyfriend breaking up with me on our anniversary to realize I needed to learn how to function on my own. It was, quite suddenly, of vital importance that I figure out a way to take care of myself, my home, and all that comes with being a self-reliant human being.

The first six or seven months were hell. I was depressed. I cried a lot. I was scared, my footing was uneven, and I had no idea what to do with all the new furniture in the house.

I didn't know which cabinet to put my plates in.

I struggled to figure out where to store my cups.

My plates and cups had no place to go because I hadn't lived here, in this house, before. This house isn't the one I grew up in. And the struggle went even further, branching out to the purpose of each room and where the furniture should rest.

Part of me wasn't sure if I should move the couch or my bed. Part of me didn't want to move them because, in the beginning, I hadn't processed the house was mine. Rented or not, the place I live in now is mine to do with as I please (within reason).

It took breaking up with my boyfriend for me to figure that out. It took that one move to finally reach a place where I could see, clearly, that there were areas in my life that were underdeveloped. That needed to be addressed.

And it was hard.

Change Happens Slowly, One Day After Another

I've had a lifetime to learn about my 'quirks.' They're a part of me, and I've learned to deal with them. Sometimes, with help. Other times, on my own.

Living on my own has taught me ways to fight against the impulses I often don't realize I've indulged in until hours later. Like spending two days playing a video game or writing when I should have done my laundry or cleaned up a mess in the house.

I always tell myself, 'I'll do it later.'

More often than not, it doesn't happen. Not until the week after, or the week after that. Even now, I need to toss my clothing into the washer. I keep reminding myself of it, and then I forget until I'm in the laundry room letting my cat out into the backyard. Then I see the massive pile of laundry, I pause and think, 'I really need to do my laundry soon.'

Then, as per usual, forget. The bird flying by the window catches my attention. The sound of a car door opening or closing has me going around the house to investigate. My oven beeping at me will pull me back inside to flip the burgers I have cooking in my oven because frying them is too much of a chore. I burn myself every time, and the burns hurt. Baking is easier.

When you're living by yourself, there isn't anyone around to nag you about your chores. There isn't another person leveling a disapproving look on you as you write thousands of words on a blank page on the computer that you delete a dozen times. There is only you, yourself, and your mind.

These days, I try to do something productive every day.

I focus on a few small things I can do before something else catches my attention. I get distracted easily. When I get distracted, I don't put myself down over it. I work to keep my thoughts positive.

Things That Need To Get Done Will Get Done

My boyfriend and I might no longer be together, but we're still friends. I see him every once in a while. Things didn't work out between us, but I am eternally grateful for him and the support he gave me during some of the hardest days of my life.

He showed me that, regardless of my lack of interpersonal skills, I can still have relationships beyond close friends and family. That when life changes on me, I can weather that storm with lopsided grace.

Living on my own isn't easy, but it's manageable. We broke up shortly after I got my place, and the timing is interesting. I was transitioning into a new phase of my life, and it was a phase I had to go through alone.

It was difficult, yes, but rewarding. I'm stronger than I thought. I'm able to change as a situation demands. Going through winter without any heat during the coldest part of the year proved that much. And now I'm facing the unforgiving heat with a sense of determination to reach the cold months once again. I'll be prepared, this time around.

Overall, I've learned to take things as they come. Change happens slowly, most of the time. You can see it as it comes. And when you go through something, you can prepare for it as it comes around a second or third time. Humans are, by nature, capable of adapting to nearly any situation.

At the end of the day, one core truth remains the same. My mama raised a survivor. No matter how difficult things get, I always find a way forward. Necessity is the mother of all inventions, as the saying goes.

It was a necessity that taught me to adapt, survive, and thrive.