Chaotic Notes to Myself #1

by Melanie S about a year ago in healing

I'm writing this to clear my head, read again, and put together in a logical order. Wish me luck.

Chaotic Notes to Myself #1

I always say the things are meant to be and everything that happens, happens for a reason—both good and bad things are what we need in our lives. I believe that the Universe balances them accordingly. All you have to do is stay grateful and do your thing—the rest will fall into place.

It took me a long time to find the source of my insecurities and destructive behaviors and thoughts. It wasn't an easy process, and I think it still isn't. At the moment, it's just less difficult.

I would never consider myself "normal," but it applies to the rest of the people in the world. Everything can be normal. It's not just one pattern that exists, there are as many as there are human beings. We all make mistakes but not all of us learn from them. Nobody's perfect. I used to think I'm perfect thanks to my parents, but now (finally!) I know I'm not. So I'm trying to learn from my mistakes and keep improving myself.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not (yet) a total psycho, and I don't think I would ever make one. I'm just a young woman who needs to grow up, sort herself out, and everything will be fine. My journey to recovery is still going. It began three years ago when I started dating my partner. Since then I've progressed fairly but only recently I realized it's still a long way ahead of me. The breakthrough took place at the beginning of the week. How? Let me tell you.

My partner went abroad for a week, to our homeland to be exact, mainly to get a few matters sorted, but also to get a mini-holiday, see our friends etc. I was so happy about it, thinking we will get some rest from each other, and that his return will be even nicer after that time without much contact. He went on Wednesday.

Well, I was okay until Sunday. And then my old demons came by. I made a joke out of myself, stressed my partner, and embarrassed both of us in front of his friends. You know what I did? I started sending him crazy texts, blaming him for all the world's evil, saying he doesn't give a shit about me and talking about his ex and other idiotic things. And I also texted one of his friends. It made him keep his phone turned off until Monday. That morning he sent me a nice text, saying that despite all this he still wants me and misses us—me and our daughter. And I made a big deal out of it again—I started crying, calling him... He shouted at me that I need therapy or something, because it's not normal. And for the first time in my life I didn't oppose, I agreed with him. I surprised not only him, but also myself. I used to be that kind of person who wouldn't want to listen and would just turn her back, say "fuck off," and slam the door.

For the rest of his time away, I was getting better. Once I'd made my decision about seeking help, I felt so much lighter... And also it was as if my mind started opening up, stopped being clutched. The thoughts started to flow, observations and conclusions. For the first time I wasn't afraid to look closer at the inside of my head. And it was absolutely wonderful. I felt free.

One of my major conclusions was that I couldn't cut the contact completely when he's away. He always tells me we all should do whatever the hell we want to. One of my favourite things is to write to him, even when he's sitting next to me. I told him that I will write, but that I don't expect answers from him. And I did write him, a lot. My thoughts were pouring out of me. They were all positive (even if they regarded something not so positive) and we were both glad I wrote them all to him.

I think that was one of the reasons for my outburst. I wasn't expressing myself to him in a long time, I was afraid to talk to him about my fears, hopes and dreams and such... totally unnecessarily, as it turned out.

My fear of expressing exactly what I wanted got in the picture in my early days, I think... but I will write more about it later.

Yesterday I went for a consultation with a psychotherapist and decided I will see her every week. It's good to talk to someone from the outside... but that's not the best thing of yesterday.

We finally talked, me and my partner. We were eating dinner in silence. I was desperately searching something that would start a conversation... And I did. And we talked for over two hours, laughing and crying (me), and it was the biggest relief I have ever experienced.

I couldn't be happier, even though I have a lot to work on myself. Or maybe that's why?


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