I became so consumed by anxious thoughts yesterday that I managed to make myself physically ill.
The last time that happened was during my split with my ex, and while I’d vowed afterwards to never let my head end up in such a volatile place again, I still found myself there yesterday.
It was as if four years worth of lessons about love, relationships and myself vanished into thin air – leaving an insecure, extremely irrational and insanely anxious woman behind.
You see, my boyfriend started a new job last week. A job that takes up a lot more of his time and energy, leaving less time for bullshitting with me throughout the day, the adult sleepovers I’d come to look forward to, or even getting to see me for more than an hour or two at a time.
Gosh darn it, I miss him!
And in less than two weeks he’ll be taking on a type of training for his job that will suck up even more of his time and energy.
I’ve known for awhile he’d have less time for me, and I tried to prepare myself for it. I had long talks with myself about what might happen when I became lower on his list of priorities – first being his daughter, second being his new career that he’s been waiting for the chance to have for years, and then me falling in line somewhere after that.
I made my peace with it, told myself I’d be supportive and convinced myself that all would be ok.
Only then this weekend it wasn’t – or rather I wasn’t.
To be in a relationship I need to feel desired (physically and otherwise), appreciated and like I truly matter. Without those things I don’t feel safe. And when I don’t feel safe my fight-or-flight response kicks in.
The mind is a pretty remarkable thing. While it functions for a lot of good, it can also do a fuckton of bad when coupled with fear.
“It isn’t the things that are happening to us that cause us to suffer, it’s what we say to ourselves about the things that are happening.”
Over the weekend my mind managed to twist and turn a few instances of Ben simply being busy into him being distant, unappreciative, and no longer caring about me or our relationship.
I’m not saying I’m completely to blame for this because there was definitely a lack of communication involved on his part that contributed to my crazy coming out, but I definitely blew things WAY out of proportion.
Ben, if you read this, know how much I truly, madly, deeply appreciate you putting up with me being a Spazzasaurus Rex.
Yesterday I even got myself so worked up with irrational thoughts that I actually thought he was coming to my house to break up with me when he offered to come see me.
I’ve come a long way, baby – but the last few days proved to me that my fear of abandonment is beginning to rear its ugly head and that ish is no beuno.
While I may be over the things my ex did to me, it’s obvious I’m not over the debilitating fear that was born during our split.
The shock & awe of the way in which he chose to leave our relationship rocked me to my core. I chose to bury some of the feelings associated with it at the time because I knew I was not strong enough to deal with them – but now as I’ve dug deep inside myself over the last few months to find the courage to be in a relationship again, it seems I’ve unintentionally unearthed them.
Whether it’s with Ben or someone else, I know no romantic relationship I’m in will ever survive the ebbs and flows of life unless I face my fear of abandonment head on and work through it.
So I put on my big girl pants today and I made an appointment for tomorrow to get a referral to see a therapist.
It’s time to defeat the last scary monster that still looms from my past to get to my future on the other side.