open letter to my love. (my healing diary)

[djalomo]

I'm healing after a breakup, and I'm starting this thread as a healing diary, mostly for myself but it's open for anyone who'd like to read and/or offer supportive comments. I'll probably be posting in here a couple of times a week, to keep myself accountable for my own healing.

This letter will be long, detailed and tedious. I need it to be. I need every detail of what I'm feeling in writing in order to heal.

I'm determined to fight my way through this, which in the past has been difficult for me because I deal with and am medicated for depression and anxiety and my coping skills are somewhat stunted.

Some history for anyone reading:

For the past three years I've been in love with a manic depressive. We've parted several times, usually when a wave of depression hits him. We've each done the breaking up, but the long ones have been his. Loving someone with manic depression is a difficult and emotionally taxing journey, which I realized once I was in. I think everyone who's ever been in this situation knows they deserve "better," but it's difficult to leave if you believe your partner is genuinely doing his/her best and loves you. You know you're not your partner's "nurse," or "crutch," but you realize that manic depression is a disease that leaves your partner unable to focus, make decisions, and a lot of times, simply function. And just when you've had enough, the depression lifts and you remember why you love them so much. And you may even love this person so deeply that the "normal" times -- the times unaffected my depression -- are enough to stand with them through the worst.

This was my experience, and now that it's over, this is part of my attempt to move forward. We broke up last week for good. This time around, I think I will genuinely be OK. I've done a lot of reading, I'm working my my psych, and I'm surrounding myself with good friends and support. So here goes.

=====
Dear J.,

I cried what I believe is my last hard cry for you Wednesday night. Remember Wednesday night? I won't remind you what you said -- I'm sure you remember. What you probably don't know is that after that last conversation we had, the one in my car on my cell phone in the parking lot of that Cuban restaurant -- after you said "I'm hanging up now" -- I hung up and bawled alone in my car for 20 minutes. I had just arrived at that film festival at the restaurant I was excited about. I wanted to leave and drive 45 minutes in the other direction to talk to you in person. I wanted you to see me cry. I know it's hard for you to see me cry. I wanted to hurt you that way.

I pulled myself together and went inside. On the way in I met a few people. I saw this cute filmmaker I met last year and never told you about. And I met his cute associate too. At the bar I ordered a mango-flavored mojito and a nice young man bought me tostones. They were delicious. I wished you were there with me because I know you would have liked them. The films were great. You would have loved the one from Spain. I laughed out loud and almost forgot I had bawled over you earlier. Until I stopped laughing and thought about how if you'd been there, you'd be laughing too.

The cute associate and I talked over drinks. We talked about my interest in films and he gave me his contact info so I could get involved in the festival's organization. I felt better. I wondered if he liked me. I wore those pants you like with my new high heels. Remember the last time we went out together and I wore them? You said I looked beautiful (you always did, though). You liked that with my new heels on, you didn't have to bend quite as much to kiss me. I agreed. I didn't have to look up quite so high anymore, and my neck hurt less. We laughed when I said that.

Anyway, I wore that outfit with my new red bracelet. You didn't get to see that one yet because we hadn't seen each other since I bought it. I know you woulda commented on it had you seen it, because you always do. You always compliment me and notice when I wear something new. Anything new. I always thought that was cool. I wondered how many girls were lucky enough to have a boyfriend, who, after three years, still notices your new bracelet and reminds you that you're hot and have style. And then goes on to tell you you're beautiful and way too good for him.

And speaking of jewelry, thank you again for those earrings you bought me for my birthday because expensive jewelry from Mr. "no possessions" is different. Mr. "I'm from Seattle and everything is waaaay too coporate for me to enjoy." Mr. "I wanna be existential and contrarian all the time and fit everything I own into a shoebox and not leave a mark on this world." Mr. liberal hippy of the new millinneum who buys all his clothes second- hand.

Wow , Mr. Man -- who's beat up '88 Toyota Celica is adorned with an "Invest in America, buy a U.S. Congressman Today!" bumper sticker -- bought me a pair of $500 earrings with a matching necklace. That's more than your half of the rent you shared with that bartender you lived with at the time. Remember him? He told me once after the earrings that he warned you not to screw things up with me again. That you would regret it for the rest of your life. I'm still hurt enough to hope that's true.

[djalomo]

But I felt better when you gave me the earrings. I know I cried when I opened the box but I cried because I was happy. You had just been back in my life for a few weeks and when I saw the expensive little box it made me cry. No, you can't buy my happiness. No, I wouldn't love you more if you were rich. No, I wouldn't love you more if you gave me more presents.

I was so happy I cried because I looked at the earrings and knew that they would be my comfort in the future. I knew that one day, you would flake out on me again. I knew the depression would hit you again and that you would become so selfish and inconsiderate that you would hurt me again. But I knew that I could look at that gift and remember that at one time, you cared enough to put aside everything you believe in to try and make me happy.

So that's what I'm falling back on now. I know you tried. I know that manic depression is hard. I know because I've researched it. I've done the work. I've lived through depression. I've taken the meds and talked to my psych about it. I've done everything in my power to try and understand and to help you, but I know that we're beyond that. And I'm forgiving myself for this not working out. From what you've told me I gather that this is also the reason your marriage didn't work out.

And I know that this is the end. And I'm getting better. People always say that it's always harder to breakup later than it is in the beginning. But that isn't true.

Remember that first breakup? In December 2003? That one was hard. That one felt like a mistake. I spent that month away from you thinking about what I could have done different to make you stay. I swore that if I had the chance I would do this, this, and that differently. I swore.

And then I got the chance, and I did do those things differently. Then the next wave of depression hit you -- remember summer 2004? Three months went by of living in virtual hell. We were both miserable. But having lost you before, I couldn't walk away. I vowed through all the yelling, all the anger, all the hurt, that I would go down with the ship. If you wanted out, I would let you leave. But I wouldn't. Not till you called it quits.

Then *poof*. You woke out of it. Fall came, you got back on your meds and things were wonderful. Remember Sept. 1st, when you cried uncontrollably, thanking me for saving your life? Remember when you said that my support was the reason you were able to pull through, that a depressive spell had never hit you that way since you found your brother dead on Christmas Eve when you were 10, from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in the back of his head? Remember that you thanked me for not giving up?

Then you gave up again, in December 2004. Like clockwork. Of course, days before I didn't see it coming. Then you just woke up one day and decided you didn't want me in your life anymore. I cried on the way home, and left work early the next day to cry.

But that time wasn't as hard as the first. Because remember all that fun we got to have in that extra year together? Remember that time we went to that sandwich shop and the two gray-haired ladies in the booth next to us asked us if we were married? When we said no, she said "I thought so, you look happy!" and we all laughed. And remember that waiter who told us we looked so happy it made him sick?

I took comfort in that, even if we were living on stolen time.

Then things got better. By January I started seeing someone new. I weaned off my meds and lost 6 lbs. I was almost over you.

And then you called.

I debated calling you back. But then I did. We hung out and I remembered that I'd missed your company. I missed that we have the same sick sense of humor and think that the President is a jack ass. I missed that we both hate kids and agree that mainstream radio and summer blockbusters are lame.

And I think you'd missed me too, because we had a lot of fun that night and I don't think you'd had that much fun in a while. We went to our pub got wasted and played Trivial Pursuit and I somehow won and picked on you about it. Then -- remember that man came up to us and said we were having way to much fun in public together? People always told us that.

Then came those earrings. You said that you thought about getting me something sparkly and dangly, like the green ones I wear, but you were afraid of committing a major fashion atrocity by picking out the wrong ones. You apologized if they were too bling-bling, but they were perfect. Timeless and classic studs, I knew I could wear them 20 years from now and remember how much you cared once. How much you cared once to dare be called a materialistic red-blooded American consumer just to buy me something that would make me happy. How you cared enough once to walk into a snooty high-end boutique in the oh-so-homogenous suburbs that you hate and drop over a month's rent to make me happy. For the record, exes have spent twice that on jewelry for me, but money and material possessions are different for you. And I appreciate your effort.

I appreciate all the flowers -- sent to me at the office, that made all my coworkers ooh and ahh. I appreciate the bouquet of "just because" roses, and even more so, the note that came along. I appreciate the "I'm sorry" flowers, in the bouquet you designed yourself at the florist's. And I appreciate the tower of Valentine's Day flowers, because even in their atrocity, I thought they were beautiful because I know recognizing Valentine's Day in any way causes you pain. I know you hate it because it's a stupid corporate non-holiday run by the greeting card companies, who are owned by some other company who ultimately plays some role in terrorism and/or big tobacco and oil. I understand. But please, know how much I appreciate your celebrating with me in spite of all that, especially since I know you didn't with Becca. Know that you putting aside your beliefs in being anti-Valentine's Day to make me happy made me feel special.

And know that those memories are what's helping me get through this one. I'm not happy that you're out of my life for good, but I'm at peace with my efforts to make this work. I don't feel like there's been any stone left unturned, or like I've surrendered and given up. I've turned my skin inside out and exposed every vein to you. You know what you mean to me. And I think you know this is it too.

And with that, I hope that one day I can be over you enough to be happy for you when I hear you're dating someone new. I can with all my other exes. Right now I'm together enough to not have cried much since I got home from the festival last Wednesday (yes, I bawled for you twice in a five-hour time period). I'm surrounding myself with good friends, and going out a lot. I'm keeping myself occupied and I'm remembering that I'm a pretty good catch. I'm remembering that time in January where I was almost over you. And I feel like I can get there again.


...to be continued

[djalomo]

So it's been about 3 weeks since I wrote this letter, and I feel so much stronger. I'm completely optomistic about life, for the first time in a while. I'm still not completely over J, and while I'm optomistic about seeing other people and know that I'll be in a good relationship again, I fear that I won't ever feel that way about someone again. Actually no, I don't fear it -- I feel like I won't willfully allow it. I won't mind being in another good relationship because I've been in too many to count...but I don't see myself blindly surrending so broadly to someone on such a grand scale again.

So then am I really being optomistic -- or is that just the ultimate form of relationship cynacism? :\ I know I can be happy again, but I don't know about that powerful, blinding "I'll do anything for you" feeling again. Happy and comfortable, yes, but wonderful and end-all be-all? No.

[collrob2101]

how you doing?

[djalomo]

So much better, thanks

I've been meaning to come in here and update so I can keep a record for myself and my progress because I honestly didn't think right now I would feel the kind of peace with the split that I feel now. It stings a bit when I see his new car at work because the fact that he bought it when we split reminds me of the finality of it all and of the fact that we're both living seperate lives without having had closure -- it's like a big, physical landmark that marks the end of our road together. But I no longer feel the incapacitating, aching longing to make ammends with him that I have in the past when we've split. I feel pretty "normal" now, or at least the way I think "normal" people feel post-breakup. Like, it's sad occasionally but not debilitating.

I wonder what the next person I become seriously involved with will be like. I've dated a lot and a lot of different "types" of people, and I've had good relationships and great ones, but it's difficult for me to wrap my mind around feeling that all-encompassing devotion to someone again. I know it will happen, but it's difficult for me to imagine what that person would have to be like to feel that way again. I look back and I've dated very, very nice, successful, selfless men with the same interests as myself who've treated me like a queen and while those were great relationships, after Jason I can really honestly say that I hadn't been truly in love with any of them.

That scares me because I thought I was. I went ring shopping with an ex and thought I wanted to marry him, and a different ex propsed to me and I said "no" and thought it was the big, grand mistake of my life that I'd regret forever. But now in retrospect I'm shocked I almost committed my life to either one of them, because nothing compared to being with Jason when he was stable and well. Nothing even comes close.

So I'm still truckin' along, and wondering when it'll be completely 100% ok. I'm about 80% there, I think. But honestly, at this point I'd expected to be only at about 40 or so.

I'm just thankful and happy to not be tragically sad.

[brilliant100]

djalomo - your love letters and progress updates are very encouraging. My relationship ended around the same time as yours. Today I feel like you do, a lot better and less sad. Time really does heal a broken heart.

I look forwared to hearing about your success with your next relationship.

[djalomo]

Brilliant I'm glad things are looking up for you -- time really does help.

I had a bizarre dream about Jason the other night and have been shaken up by it. In my dream I saw him with someone else, and I remember so vividly hurting in my dream seeing him kissing and holding hands with another. It sounds so immature but the dream was so vivid. I can't wait for these feelings to go away, or at least subside.

[Babyprince]

Originally Posted by djalomo

I had a bizarre dream about Jason the other night...

It's natural... and you're going to continue to have these dreams.
Even years after the end of a relationship, you'll still have random
dreams of him once in a while. When you wake up, you'll think to
yourself "Hmmm.. I don't see how anything in my life this past month
could have triggered this dream..." You'll sit there in your bed, think
back for a couple seconds, then shrug it off, and go brush your teeth
and wash your face to start preparing for a new day. It's great to
be alive and to be able to experience so many human emotions. =D

[djalomo]

Originally Posted by Babyprince

It's great to
be alive and to be able to experience so many human emotions. =D

Totally. That's probably the most beautiful statement I've heard in ages.

As horrible as this is I'm thankful for the experience to have taught me what it is to love. To love without hope or condition.

[djalomo]

Wow. Revelation.

J was robbed at gunpoint outside of work Sunday evening.

I saw him Monday and he still looked shaken up. Everyone's asking me if I've called him yet, but I won't. I thought about e-mailing a "hey hope you're ok" note or text-messaging him but I decided against it. I'd feel different if he didn't have a support system in place, but he shares a house with his two best friends now and works with a bunch of his buddies. And I'm sure he knows he has my sympathy, so I don't feel like I need to call. He doesn't need to hear I care -- he's surrounded by people who do.

And honestly, this has helped me with a little closure. Our breakup bothered me because it happened because we were both inconviniently off meds at the same time in the same place and neither one of us was thinking clearly enough to make a decision that wasn't irrational. I hated being apart from him and knowing that neither one of us had felt anything was really wrong with our relationship, aside from our inabilites to cope with everyday life like normal human beings. There weren't differences between us that were too big or too great to accept; we were happy and that was that. Until we both went crazy.

But I finally feel closure now knowing that he can go through a life-changing experience like being held at gunpoint and not feel the urge to call. That makes this easier to get over. It felt like nothing was "wrong" with our relationship aside from our mental issues but this, to me, is "wrong" and that makes me feel like our breakup was justified.

I'm glad he's ok but now I can say with confidence that he's not the kind of person I'd like to be with forever.

I could never have said that before.

[djalomo]

It's been close to three months now and I still have good days and bad -- but I haven't had an awful day in weeks. I'm seeing someone right now that I really like and I'm enjoying the experience because right now my eyes are really "open."

[Ana K.S.]

Time is your friend.

[djalomo]

Mission accomplished -- it's 09/23/05 and I'm officially SO over it.

I'm involved with someone new and J moved far, far away and everything has oddly wrapped itself up in a neat little package.

I'm so relieved. I haven't felt this stable in months.

Thanks everyone for your kindness and support