Broken Bella Donna











And there, ladies and gents, it is. The bullshit to come after all the good stuff, the rejection I knew was coming, just another reminder that I am useless, unlovable, second in line for all of eternity, and I bought it on myself – as I usually do.

What I would like to say to you, but won’t, because it’s just not fair…

Ok so been sitting here thinking – surprise. Remember I told you not all that long ago that for me, it was essentially like you were my online boyfriend, that I treated you as such, and you agreed? Yeah so bearing that in mind, it should come as no surprise to you right now that I feel like I’ve been ditched. By the first person I gave my trust and yeah, fuck it, my heart to in eight years. It’s going to take me some time to come around to this as a concept, us cutting all the flirty stuff and just being ‘friends’, and I’m probably going to be a bitch about it, but I will get there. This will work out, but we’re going to lose a lot in the process. I’ll be surprised if we’re even in contact this time next year. I’ve always valued the complete honesty in our friendship but now I don’t know, there’s going to be stuff I simply can’t tell you anymore which means we won’t be us, we’ll just be associates, you’ll just be another person it’s nice to catch up with, but I share no special bond with. Which is silly cause really, not much should change, it’s not like we were shacked up or anything. I just… I dunno. Suppose I know now. Even up until a few hours ago I could kid myself that I meant something to someone (even tho I had a fair idea this was coming since Tuesday night, I just had a feeling, your pumpkin comment set me off), but this is just another rejection in a long line of them. (I know – or hope – that isn’t your intention but to the ultra sensitive amongst us, that’s what it feels like. I know I’m being unrealistic and dumping this on you but bad luck) You knew I was insecure from the start. It was ‘part of my charm’ remember?

What I will tell you though is that I feel like you lead me on. You’ve always known you were married, and I did too, but you know what you were capable of in the long run and where your line to cross was drawn, and you’ve dragged me along in your wake, building up this momentum just to throw me overboard to the sharks at the last minute when things got gritty. And I fucking TOLD you, when I said about the slippery slope, when I said I wasn’t sure we should spend much time together alone, I fucking TOLD YOU this would happen, this is what I was afraid of. For this, you are a cunt.

I had an ex – the overly girly emotional one – who used to get upset with things I did or said, and ranted how hard it was because I was his best friend and the only person he wanted to talk to about it, but he couldn’t, because it was about me and I couldn’t be objective and he didn’t want to dump everything on me and make me feel bad. I feel like writing to him to apologise now. I get it.

Angry is how I’m dealing with this tonight. I will be mostly over the angry by morning, once I get it out of my system with a big wobbly tonight, so don’t worry on that front. Angry gets me past the first of the hurt. Even me, with my limited knowledge knows that’s pretty normal.

IN saying all this, I owe you a favour. You’ve removed the only good thing I really had going in my life, that I thought I might get to keep long term. By removing that you’ve taken away the fear of losing it, the unknown of when things were going to go to shit. I can go back to being just me, with nothing left to lose.

I’ve been mourning this for the last five days straight, I knew it was coming the night after. Maybe now the heartache can stop, the tears, the anger, the rejection. Now I know it’s all true, maybe I can start to move on from it.

Sadly, this means the spazz attacks are going to come back.

Happy 32nd year to me. Started out beautiful, progressed to fucked up even faster than I could give myself credit for.

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Argh.

All I wanted, not all that long ago, was to feel heartbroken. I felt like I was incapable of love, I had never felt love for another, I had never been taught to love by my parents, I felt I was unlovable and incapable of feeling it. I had never had the joy of unfettered love for another, that devotion and dedication that others speak of, that hollywood romance. I had never left a relationship so battered and bruised that I couldn’t conceive of life after it. I had never had my heart stepped on and brutalised. I just never cared enough for that to be a problem.

I think I might finally have gotten there. I think I have allowed someone to love me, and I think I’ve allowed myself to love in return. I think I have met that person, so far from perfect, yet so right for me. I think I’ve found the other half of my soul, that forbidden creature that I can actually understand.

And I’m too damn late. Isn’t that just typical of my life.

Ships in the night. Toot toot.

How long to I give this, to differentiate between passing obsession vs the real thing?

I feel so flat without having spoken to you, things are so complicated with us right now and you said it’s ok, but I know that it isn’t. You’re avoiding me whilst you sort things in your head, unaware that all that time I’m left to my own devices, I’m making things worse for us. My heart hurts. I’m worried what you’re coming up with. It would be so, so… expected, TBH, if you turned around and – unaware of my epiphany – told me to get out of your life. It would be the fairest thing for you two, the worst for me, but I’m kinda getting used to that.

I’m sinking into a funk again. Twice in a week. This really isn’t good. I don’t know how to keep digging myself out of this. I’m strong enough, granted, I’m not going to turn around and neck myself but everytime a bit more crumbles off, it leaves a little less of me.



{April 16, 2013}  

OMFG. I am so tired. I have got to stop staying up late chatting online. I am too old for this shit.

(As a general rule of thumb, what I am about to say has traditionally been followed by a run of bad luck – but here goes.)

Life is good right now. I haven’t had any problems with spazz attacks in regards to the spazz inducing voluntary work (or, in fact, any other aspect of life); I am feeling more or less happy, and I cannot complain.

I’ve stopped over analysing every aspect of life (for now), and I’m feeling more at peace with myself than I have for some time. I credit this to having someone in my life that I feel accepts me…

Makes me wonder how much my spazz attacks are due to stress from life circumstances.   I have someone who listens to me, and accepts me for who I am, someone who (for lack of better words) loves me and allows me to be me… I relax. I accept myself a little more and I wind down. This makes sense – the whole time I was with Nerdy Ex, my spazz attacks were null and void, I was able to function as a normal person. Now the relationship has grown with Pervy Policeman, and I feel accepted again… I can do things that I haven’t been able to do for years.

I tried to tell him this last night, in a roundabout way. I owe him a lot already, he’s allowed me to find myself again amidst the rubble that is my spazz attacks. Simply by being there for me. I think I’m repaying the favour by simply being there for him, too. It seems to be a mutually beneficial friendship. Everyone wins. Well not everyone.

I do wish I could locate my happy self on my own though, without need for others acceptance, but hey I’ll take what I can get where I can get it. I have gained a best friend, acceptance, trust, honesty, comfort and relaxation all in one job lot. Perhaps this support will be the leg up I need to progress on my own. Lets hope.

It sure is funny how life works out. To finally find a bond with someone, after so long in the wilderness, to find someone who just fits. Someone who is a crazy mix of so inappropriate, yet so appropriate. An ex once told me “I didn’t know girls like you existed”… to this day I’m entirely unsure what exactly it was about me that was so unprecedented, but I can understand now what he meant. I had no idea there was anyone out there who would get me. Now I know.



{April 3, 2013}  

Just had an epiphany.

I’m feeling relaxed, and OK about things that have otherwise been stressing me a little lately. I think I can credit this to the puppy. Hooray for puppy!

See… I have a super active life in my imagination. I make up all sort of lovely alternate realities where I live, and I have all the things I want, and I enjoy them no end. Of course this causes weirdness in my day to day life, when I develop feelings, emotions, ideas or whatever in my imaginary world, that try to transfer themselves into real life.

When you have a puppy to toilet train and raise, to watch 24/7 and worry about, it kinda eats into your relaxation time. In fact it kills it. Instead of going to bed, reading for a lil while, then turning off the light and moving into my perfect world where everything is rainbows and unicorns, I turn the light off as soon as I jump into bed in order to settle Mr Puppy, and then I promptly fall asleep form sheer exhaustion, knowing that I’m going to have to get up in three hours and do it all again. Rinse and repeat.

No fantasy time = no weirdness in real life = less spazz for me.

This brings to mind… is my active imagination my problem? If I had a life in real life, would I not be forced to invent one? If I had other things to distract me, instead of this solitary life I’ve built for myself, would I be happier? I think back to times when I had things in my life, things that made me happy and provided me with the emotional – and sometimes physical fulfillment I required – and i realise yes, I was happier, there was much less spazz.

Is this why I try to fill my life now, with empty volunteer work? I suspect so. It works most of the time.

Does everyone else know this, then? Has everyone else worked out I have nothing in my life, and that’s why I fill every hour with pseudo life?

How do you train yourself to not fantasise about everything you want?

I know where it started. I remember. When I was in single digits, I attended a religious, monied, upper class private school as a low class, poor atheist who was bullied by everyone, including the teachers and couldn’t even hide at my fucked up home from the bullying. I built a life around me in my head, where I was happy, and the boys teased me because they liked me and the girls teased me because they were jealous. It was the only way I could get through early childhood. Sadly I’ve carried this into adulthood with me, and it still isn’t doing me any favours.

I feel very sad for Childhood Me. She should never have been subjected to what she was.

Spazz inducing occasions are starting again this coming weekend, for 2013. At this stage I’m not anticipating any problems specifically, I’m feeling quite relaxed about it though I’m sure that will change. The main cause for the spazz on those occasions is not presently a problem, which I think fixes everything. Now instead of worrying about spazzing over him, I’m worried I might just spazz over the idea of having a spazz. Oh yes. That’s one of my many quirks. I can have an attack over the idea of having an attack. What fun!

Oh, my obligatory happy thought. Hmm. Well I’m not feeling particularly stressed at the moment, and I really should be. I’m presently staring at the two cutest faces I could ever wish to stare at – and furthermore they are finally friends (with each other!). I am making good progress in The Big Project at long last and the end is finally starting to look nigh. I desperately want to be in there by Christmas and that is starting to look a little more likely. Though I’m a little scared of what what eventuate once I get there.



et cetera