Heartbroken

I melted into a puddle of tears within seconds of entering my therapist’s office today. I walked into the building fully composed, but as soon as she closed the door behind me, I started bawling like a baby. This was unexpected for both of us. She was obviously very concerned, but so was I. The past couple of weeks have been extremely tough, as I’m coming to realize a lot of things, but I’ve been distracting myself, filling every waking minute with a wellness practice, books, or work, trying to avoid the deep reality of my situation.

I sat on my therapist’s couch exhausted trying to explain the complexity of my emotions and frustrations. She looked at me with sad eyes and said, “You’re heartbroken.” Instantly, more tears blasted down my face. The moment she said those words, I realized how right she was. I’m heartbroken. And I haven’t taken a moment to acknowledge it for some reason. I’ve been too busy over-analyzing everything and trying to stay strong that I haven’t even processed how much actual pain I’m in. Not only do I feel like a failure, I’m heartbroken.

A little over a week ago, the relationship I’ve been in for over a year ceased to exist overnight. The weight and confusion of the situation is suffocating, and I feel like I can’t catch my breath. My personal life is very complicated. I purposely don’t overshare with more than a handful of people, because I don’t want to explain myself. I internalize most of my emotions and move through life smiling at everyone else, hoping it will change the way I feel. It doesn’t. A constant loop of actions and conversations play in my head on a daily basis. I think about every wrong thing I’ve said and done. I think about what I could have done better and why I didn’t. I wonder what was true and what was a lie. I wonder why I wasn’t good enough. And worst of all, I wonder why I didn’t see this coming sooner. Until I want to puke. Literally. I couldn’t finish my dinner. And I’m not even sure that I want the answers to my questions, because to be quite honest, I don’t know that I can handle them.

Strength and resilience are qualities I’ve worked hard to maintain, but they harbor a lot of pain and resentment. Feeling this defeated and unloved, strength and resilience can kiss my ass right now. I need to wallow. I need to feel shitty. Soon enough, I’ll be numb. Once the numb settles in, I can start moving on. I’m losing my mind, but this time instead of fighting to get it back, I think I’m just going to let it go. These horrible thoughts of myself, who I should be, my past, what I’m doing, and where I’m going are all so convoluted at this point that I just want them gone. I know this all sounds really dark, like some sort of goodbye letter, but it’s not. I’m just fucking sad.

I’m in a vulnerable place. I’m away from my loved ones because I was pursuing love. And so quickly, all the love and support I thought I had here just disappeared. It’s a hard pill to swallow, and I don’t know what to do with myself, which is kind of pathetic. I can’t help but hate myself a little. I put myself in this position. And now, I have nothing but time to isolate and take a long, hard look in the mirror. I’m sure I deserve it. I’ve done my fair share of fucked up shit in this lifetime. Karma’s a bitch. I get it. I’m not sure what’s next, but I do know that I’m ready to be done crying. My therapist recommended screaming into a pillow to get the frustration out, so I’m going to start there. I’ll probably do that around midnight tonight to scare the neighbors. The walls are thin, and I could use a little excitement. After that, who knows? Maybe I’ll change my name and hop the train. Good idea.