Longing

Contemplated for like 48 hours. Decided against. I win the final forever. I think that’s why it was so hard - because I decided the final forever. 

It’s funny to me that at this juncture in my life, my first love did not make the cut of “wonder if they think of me” like the others. I do wonder, but I think because I block those memories so hard, it’s not the same. I don’t think of that period of my life as anything to remember. Same with my ex husband. 

It’s not even about time period, because Ry ran parallel to ex boyfriend and Chevy ran parallel to ex husband. 

I guess exes are not the same as what could have been. It’s the romanticism of potential that I find intoxicating. The want to be “the one that got away,” over “the one I left/who left me.” I hope my ex boyfriend regrets me. I hope my ex husband doesn’t miss me at all. I hope the others long for me wistfully. 

Why am I so fucked up? 

Basically all Bird

Fever dreams of Bird, throwing up meals on the regular, trying desperately to feel something, anything, from hemp and kombucha... Rehoming the dog is a fucking nightmare mentally... I keep having moments where I question doing it, and then he will do something I can't handle again, and I'm reminded why it's completely necessary at this point. I just don't know what to do about him, and it's making me anxious. I need someone to take him away from me and help me with him. There is no one yet. 

Dreams of Bird... Why? What emotion did I feel? Ashamed. Hurt... 

The moment when he told me I was stupid plays in my head sometimes. IDK why I even told him what I was going through - he and Lolly are the only humans I ever told. I told this blog, as I do everything, but no one else. He called me stupid, because he cared. 

Flashes of that moment and the look on his face the night I was with Gerard and he facetimed, come to me in random moments. They haunt me. I can see his face and hear his voice so clearly. Even though both times I was drunk... It's like an image you've looked at so many times you could almost recreate it. I remember how he looked, sounded, and how I felt. I felt shocked. I felt taken aback by the thought that he might actually care, because I didn't think he did. I thought we were playing the whole time.

My brain will flash to those two moments and say, "See this? You hurt him here. And here. And yes, you were hurting too, but those moments are what made him pull away in the end. If you hadn't acted like a stupid whore, you could have been with him." But he was the whore also... And he never told me flat out what he wanted or expected of me. And I don't think I ever really wanted to be with him. I don't know if I feel like he was a good person deep down like I did with all the others. I don't know if he is. Maybe he was like Trip in "Virgin Suicides..." That seems like a Bird move...

I read back over old blog entries, and I always chose my husband over everyone else. I think Bird was an option I had at one point, but I kept saying no. Not directly, but I was. I wrote that I was. It's weird how time can confuse us. I'm actually quite glad I wrote about all of my transgressions in life. They are painful to read sometimes, and I get the urge to delete the ones that are the most unsavory, but it helps me to organize myself. 

I always chose the man I had passion for, even when a safer option was there. And Bird was not the safest option...

I feel like he could have loved me. I think he did a little. I remember Jen's birthday when he acted aloof all night and then called and texted so much after we left that she was like, "What is happening?" He demanded to talk to me and called her phone to accomplish it. IDK what he wanted or expected that night. She was so shocked, and I was not. I think the fact that I wasn't was telling. 

It's so weird the relationship we had; I never know what to even make of it. He opened up to me so many times. He let me in over and over, and I was too fucked up to see that it was happening. Or maybe it wasn't, and I'm wrong. Or maybe he was the too fucked up one. I know he was a mess, and I know just because he was quicker and louder and more precise than I was at executing things, doesn't mean we weren't on the same page sometimes. 

I wish I could just ask him. I want to ask him. I want to text him and just ask, "Did you ever genuinely care about me?" Not in an accusatory way. Not because I think the answer will fill some void or fix something or tell me what my worth is, or give me closure. I'm just curious. I'm curious if he ever even cared that I left.

He played the game so much, that I always just thought we were playing, but I don't think he was. And I think once I knew all the rules, the game was already over... Once I benched the other player, he had already switched teams on me. 

He told me I was special so many times - maybe he was being honest, or maybe he was full of shit. I don't think I'll ever get to know, and that sucks. I know from all the others... All the others that I got to a level of caring with, I got a direct quote from. 

Chevy said our timing was off.
Ry said you're not the girl for me.
Bogs said you are and always will be special to me.

Adam said I want to take you on a date.

Gerard said all the time that he loved me.

They all told me in a moment of transparency the truth about us. They acknowledged the "us" part, and I'm suddenly crying while I type this, and I'm not sure why... It just hurts. 

I just wanted love so badly and still do, and it's so rare to achieve. I have to cling to this hope that he's one of the few people in the world that knew me for me and loved me anyway. He knew me on a very raw level that almost no one else ever got to with me. I want to know that he valued being there, or if he even did. 

He did say to me, "I would never be able to trust you," but that doesn't count. He said "I want to marry you," but that felt like a game also.They both make me feel like the game was still going on. They don't feel real. I want the real story of us, and I don't think I will ever get it.  He may have been vulnerable all along, but I never thought he was. Only in the two moments that haunt me do I feel like I saw behind the curtain, and both times he was in pain. So if the opposite of love is indifference, and we only feel pain when we care, then clearly he cared. But I want to know in what way and why and how. I wish I had the answer to this.

It makes me want to be crazy and get in my car and drive to Otown to "bump into him." It makes me want to text a period at 4am. Or a "do you want to pick up my shift?" randomly. It makes me want to call and hang up and see if he would reach out. It makes me want to add him on linkedin. As I'm typing this, my heart is racing at just the thought of talking to him. Even if just for a moment. 

I remember once he told me an old GF had reached out to him. He dated her like 7 years prior, and she called, and they saw each other and reminisced, and nothing happened, but he felt good about it and was telling me. I get her. I get what she wanted from it. Maybe she was getting married. Maybe she was questioning her path in life like I do sometimes. I wish I could do what she did. I'm jealous.

I wonder if other people experience this - if they think of old loves and moments and what paths they could have taken and wonder how they got to where they are now. Not because I don't think I picked the right path - I think I did. I just wonder what the others would have been like. 

It feels like time has passed so quickly. One moment it's 2012, and I'm ending my first marriage, and suddenly it's 2023 and I have a 5 year old, my stepkids are grown, and I've spent a decade with the second man I married . It was a messy first 5 years, but the do-over was good. Do other people think about their life like this??

And I especially wonder if any of the boys I listed here ever think about me. Do they shed a tear or sigh deeply or feel a twinge of pain or guilt when they think of me? Do they ever think of me? What things remind them of me? What places, or songs, or images make then think of Cally. And when they do, what memories come up?

Does Chevy think of the moment I pushed him into the walk-in so that I could tell him he hurt my feelings, the night at the bar I accidentally called him my boyfriend's name and clumsily tried to cover it up, when he heard me on the phone apologizing and started acting crazy, the night I told him I loved him as I left forever, the night we all went to dinner and he didn't spend time with me after, the night I ran through the restaurant and jumped into his arms and he held me against himself, the night we sat near the train tracks feeling with our knees touching, the two texts I sent him wanting to reconnect that he rejected?

Does Ry think about our endless AIM conversations, cuddling during scary movies until I would fall asleep, the candid photos he took of me and the ones of us together he never posted, the evening I sadly asked a question that I already knew the answer to and he pretended to be asleep later, or whatever emotion he felt when he got my wedding invitation that made us never speak again? 

Does Bogs think of going to raves and watching the walking dead, the night I was too fucked up and just kept kissing him and people from work saw, the night at TJ's pool when someone warned him to stay away from me, the night I gave him my cheek to kiss and he called me a jerk, or the day I canceled our lunch date and he knew I was leaving? 

Does Adam think of the thin pink straps on my shoulders, smoking weed together on his porch, the time I viciously gave him the silent treatment at work for days, hooking up in the back seat of his car in the parking lot of Miller's, the time he came over and complimented my bedroom and I fucked him and he left, the day he told me I was doing too much and I replied he was dead to me, the day he told me he did actually care about me and I told him not to?

Does Gerard think of laying on the pier drunkenly laughing and making out, the moment behind the bar when he said I was giving him the eyes and he took the opportunity to kiss me, the time he called my house and ratted on me to my boyfriend, the nights of chugging wine when we were supposed to be working, the night I spent at his house when I left as soon as he fell asleep, the time I did it again, the evening his car broke down and he missed our date and I didn't give him another chance?

Does Bird think of the two moments I mentioned, the night we drank and laughed on his roof, when I left my purse at his house and had to come back, the nights of punctuation or picking up shifts or DTB's, Jen's birthday, the night with the hotel pool and bottle of white wine when he held me and put gas in my car, the night we made out in his car after work in the rain, the night I sat outside on the phone with him intoxicatedly saying sexy things until he said he wanted to marry me, the night I called him and he wouldn't come rescue me and I said it had to be over?

What do they feel, if anything, about these moments that I live with? Do they ever even think of them? Do they have other moments I have long ago forgotten? What emotions do they live with because I was there? How do they feel about me now? About us? Do I ever even cross their minds?

I hope that I do. I hope they carry a piece of me, because I loved each of them... I really hope they loved me back. 

Lonely

Who do I have to be to be loved?

Pretty, agreeable, lacking needs and definitely lacking wants, mentally stable, hardworking, in a good mood, smiley, nice, pleasant. 

Who can’t I be?

Myself. Can’t be depressed, angry, sad, expectant, needing support, vulnerable, open, communicative. 

Maybe it’s like this for everyone. Maybe you just can’t be yourself. Maybe you have to hide in your room forever with no one truly knowing you and loving you. Maybe every person is dangerous and will use your weaknesses against you. 

Maybe I’m fucking stupid like Bird said. Maybe I’m only special to Bogart, and I left him behind. Maybe I should have followed all the rules, and I would be with Ry. Maybe I should have let Gerard wedge himself in there. 

I wonder what would have happened if I had gone to all those lunches and dinners. If I had gone to his house. If I had stayed where I was. 

Maybe I’m destined to be lonely. Because I always am. I always have been. I had the most soul-crushingly lonely childhood you could imagine. I was lonely the whole time I lived at home, because that’s how my parents structured my life. I was lonely in undergrad, even when surrounded by people, because I knew if I showed who I truly was, I would not be liked or accepted. I would be judged. So I clung to what was easy for me and who told me what to be, and I just did that. With my friends and boyfriend, I faked it. Then he became my first husband, and I faked it even harder. Faked it more and more until someone said one day they would accept me. So I threw all of it away and tried to start over, and I chose a man who saw me but didn’t honor that in the long run. He said he would accept me, but he didn’t know what that promise meant. I had faked it so well for so long that he thought he was accepting something he wasn’t. He doesn’t know me, and when he sees who I really am, he doesn’t like it.

 I let a few people see me for me, and I think some of them might have loved me. Some of them given a chance may have taken away my loneliness. At least a little. But I didn’t want them. I wanted the dream of something that isn’t real. I wanted something that doesn’t exist - a unicorn. And I carved out a huge hole of a place for that unicorn to fit, but since it doesn’t exist, a small little pony showed up to fill its place. And all the extra space is wasted and empty. Because now that I have a pony, I can’t have a horse. And maybe a horse like the one I dream of also doesn’t exist. Maybe all of them just fucking suck. 

No one tells you this, but just because a guy stops hitting you doesn’t mean he’ll ever stop abusing you. He’ll never really love you - he’ll just want to win. Win you and win everything else forevermore. You will always be his victim. 

Rantings

The past week has been good. Yesterday my reminder popped up to weigh myself. I’ve lost. I saw a number I haven’t seen in years. I’m still not there, but I’m much closer. 

I’m going to continue like I’ve been doing and weigh in in another two weeks. I haven’t been super restrictive, but I’m skipping dinner a lot so that my meds are super effective. I have been not drinking caffeine or anything really except water. I have been eating bagel sandwiches which sounds nuts but is so good and helpful. I’ve been eating a snack when I want one. Kombucha is my new bestie. 

I have to get rid of our dog. I can’t handle the stress. 

My husband has not been attentive lately. He doesn’t seem to realize how damaging it is. I’m thinner than I’ve been in 5 years. I’m in a new town. It would be so easy to find attention. So simple… so tempting. I’ve been so good since we got back together in 2017. But I have needs that I know someone else would fill, so he needs to step it up or he can take his baggage and go. Someone else would gladly put up with mine, and if not, I would just get fucked up all the time again… if I’m going to be trapped at home with no attention, I might as well be drunk and high when it’s happening, and this bitch prevents that part for me. Like fuck, I need enjoyment in my life. 

Blah bleh blugh

Being sick the past week has helped me to regroup. Sick and my therapy session… 

I’m trying this week to eat reasonably. Reasonable meals around 300-500 calories each. A day of about 1,200 calories, I guess. I’m trying not to put a number to it, because I will panic and purge. I identified foods that feel both safe and that I like, so I’m sticking to those. Breakfast, lunch, snack, and light dinner so that when I drink my nightly Kombucha, mixed with my meds, it makes me feel drifty. 

It’s been so nice. 

The kombucha. Not the eating. The eating is fucking hard as shit. The kombucha feels like alcohol a bit with the whole experience of it, and it’s so fucking nice.

I don’t know what to do about losing weight, but I know restricting like I try to do ain’t gonna work. I just yo-yo. So we are attempting moderation. We’ll see. 

Todays goal - don’t binge and purge while home alone with babe. 

Meh

I don’t think throwing up dinner and drinking a kombucha instead is the best coping skill, but the past two nights it’s been the remedy. 

I’ve been working a million hours, and it’s good because I’m so broke but bad because I’m so tired. I’m also sick right now.

Throwing up one meal a day feels reasonable compared to what I was doing before, and that’s a crazy thought. 

Whenever I feel overly fully, even if it’s the only meal I ate all day, my body tells me to purge it. My body says it’s too much and I’m too fat and to get rid of it. 

I’m tired. 

Therapy on ED

 I was honest with my therapist. She was helpful. I think I really do want to try to be recovered from my relentless eating disorder. I'm so hesitant to even write that, but I'm so tired of it... I'm so tired of so many things, but especially of feeling badly. 

She says I need to be able to talk about it with people, but I have no idea who "people" could even be. She agreed hubby is not a safe person. She asked if there was anyone, and I told her honestly, no. For so many reasons, but the main one being I don't want to ever show people that side of me. I'm disgusted that that girl exists. I was more open and honest with my therapist this session than I have been in the past with any of them. I don't think she realizes this. I have never given someone the whole picture until her, therapist or otherwise, and my heart is racing right now just even realizing and typing that out... 

I don't think I really want to fully let go of the disorder, and that is hard. I think maybe I can't... I can't imagine not thinking about what I eat, or getting rid of my scale, or not trying to lose the extra weight I have on my body. I know til the day I die, the weight on the scale will matter, and that I will feel better when I see it drop. I just want to be able to shape it to fit my needs. I still want to lose weight, and I hate to admit that that is difficult for me to do that. I can't tell someone I'm bulimic - to be bulimic is to be fat and gross and smelly and disgusting and all the worst things someone can be. And yes, I do objectively think that about the other bulimics. I think Ana girls are fucked up too. I have a notion that you can look thin and beautiful and it be effortless, and THAT is what I want and aspire to. I aspire to moderation with food like it's easy and I've always existed there, and to admit I struggle with it would be a fucking deafening sound. 

She said I'm always the family hero - that I have not put that role down in life, and likely never will, basically can't now - so I'm used to being strong, but when I can't handle things, I get self-destructive. She's right. I want to find moderation with that, and hopefully in doing so can have a body I don't hate living in. I don't need to be skinny or thin - just not overweight. My metabolism is so fucked, and my eating is so weird and extreme... I don't know what to do about it...

I want moderation with all things. I want moderation with my spending, eating, emotions, work.. I don't do well. I told her I'm too extreme - I either work til I burn out or I slam on the breaks. She seems to think an outlet would help, but agreed the anon groups are nauseating. That helped... 

I have a book on eating disorders that I need to read. I'm going to make that a priority... I think a menu would help. Right now I'm just trying not to binge, because I don't want to binge and purge. I'm so fucking sick of being so disordered. I'm too old for this shit. 

I would just like to eat nutritious food. Not food that is junk and not food that is basically air - somewhere in the middle where it's simple and clean, but I actually like it. Does that exist?? I keep putting things in my walmart cart and then removing them, because I don't know what moderation with fucking anything looks like. My brain is so cemented on foods I eat for pleasure and foods I eat for weight loss. Are there other types of food?? 

We discussed alternatives to binging. I don't think her suggestions are within my means of ability, but I got the general vein, and I'm going to try to implement some things I wrote down. I'm not buying that I need to tell others. I can't. I don't want to. So maybe I get better so that I don't have to. I haven't tried to get better on my own like this. I have always just wanted to be disordered. So maybe we try that approach, and if I can't get better alone, then I will involve others.