I love this text by Sandra. I also loves that its written 11 months after the break up. It gives me perspective on my 4 months. That maybe its ok to still have bad hours/days/weeks when im so very sad we didnt work out. To not know how to get through the day. To come home drunk, look at myself in the mirror and scream because i dont know how I ended up here, how this became my life.
It goes up and down and some days im fine, I feel hope and plan for my future. Im happy.
Other days I wonder what im doing. I can see the sadness in me by how desperately im trying to do anything but be with only me. Jules and me spoke once on how you know you are not good with yourself – when you cant stand the quiet to actually have to listen to your own mind. When there is constant music in your ears, series on the TV and the phone in your hand.
That is me. Plus add booze.
How I agree with the above ‘you are so broken its not enough to drink tea and eat cakes to get over someone’. It doesnt work to sit at home. I tried. It doesnt work to take endless walks or just hang with friends. I’ve tried that too. You always have to come home to that empty flat.
Drink to forget and push that head into the wall. That works. For a while. Until you have to do it again. Go all in kamikaze on your life and do everything with that desperate edge that makes things blow up. Meet the eyes of the people who can see that in you and look at yourself in that mirror. Calls for another drink.
Ive been here before and I know it needs to stop eventually. My mind is getting tiny holes where the sadness seeps through. Every time i drink there is more of them. I try to wall them up but they are too many. And then i do stupid shit and there is a big f**king crater with an avalanche of negative thoughts.
Im not sure what to do. Previously I kind of get to a point and then just stop. No more. But that need the hurt to go and if I look really close (which im desperately trying not to do) im still all torn up about all of this. I cant even meet someone to rebound on becaue I know that’ll mess me up even more, Im no good with that.
So, I drink and try to not feel.
Letters to my family 