Lonely, depressed, and anxious again. Been thinking about my ex a lot lately. It was a short long distance relationship, lasting only about six months. Last August we spent a week together. It was the only time we got to be with each other in person but it was the greatest week of my entire life. I got to experience so much that I had never experienced before: love, affection, no stress, no loneliness, the beach, and so much more.
For once in my life I wasn't sad, my mind wasn't in the usual state of seemingly perpetual chaos and distress. The war that is waged in my head every second of every day ceased to exist for that moment in time. For once I wasn't anywhere near that gloomy marred battlefield.
We left on an amicable note, and we briefly talked on and off every now and then via text. Rarely now though. Moving on is what's needed. We weren't right for each other. I didn't dwell much on the relationship or the trip after we parted ways. But lately it feels as if it just happened. The sights, smells and feelings feel freshly branded on my mind. I suppose this is to be expected when such an experience is the only happy, wholesome memory you have--flaws and all, during a stressful and depressing period. A happy place if you will.
I've been extra stressed out and lonely lately because I have plans to move to Seattle sometime in September. Need to get away from the depressing, toxic life I have here. I only know one person in Seattle. We're online friends for now. I shouldn't feel lonely; I've been alone my entire life. I guess it's the reality of being away from familiar faces.
Sometimes I feel like I'm coming undone. I don't have anyone to talk to besides my therapist, who I only get to see twice a month (IF I'm lucky--usually it's only once) for a 45 minute therapy session (which realistically only ends up being ~38 minutes long). I've talked about having my sessions extended but it's not a current possibility. Maybe I should find another or secondary therapist, but I really don't feel like starting completely over again with someone new. Sometimes I feel like saying **** it to therapy. I'm too screwed up to be helped, especially at the measly 38 minute sessions per month I currently have.
I thought I'd come here to vent. Maybe this post would be better suited as a journal entry, but maybe someone out there can relate. I wish I had someone to talk to. Someone who's a constant instead of a variable.
For once in my life I wasn't sad, my mind wasn't in the usual state of seemingly perpetual chaos and distress. The war that is waged in my head every second of every day ceased to exist for that moment in time. For once I wasn't anywhere near that gloomy marred battlefield.
We left on an amicable note, and we briefly talked on and off every now and then via text. Rarely now though. Moving on is what's needed. We weren't right for each other. I didn't dwell much on the relationship or the trip after we parted ways. But lately it feels as if it just happened. The sights, smells and feelings feel freshly branded on my mind. I suppose this is to be expected when such an experience is the only happy, wholesome memory you have--flaws and all, during a stressful and depressing period. A happy place if you will.
I've been extra stressed out and lonely lately because I have plans to move to Seattle sometime in September. Need to get away from the depressing, toxic life I have here. I only know one person in Seattle. We're online friends for now. I shouldn't feel lonely; I've been alone my entire life. I guess it's the reality of being away from familiar faces.
Sometimes I feel like I'm coming undone. I don't have anyone to talk to besides my therapist, who I only get to see twice a month (IF I'm lucky--usually it's only once) for a 45 minute therapy session (which realistically only ends up being ~38 minutes long). I've talked about having my sessions extended but it's not a current possibility. Maybe I should find another or secondary therapist, but I really don't feel like starting completely over again with someone new. Sometimes I feel like saying **** it to therapy. I'm too screwed up to be helped, especially at the measly 38 minute sessions per month I currently have.
I thought I'd come here to vent. Maybe this post would be better suited as a journal entry, but maybe someone out there can relate. I wish I had someone to talk to. Someone who's a constant instead of a variable.
