Old phones & the memories they contain

Friday morning at the crack of dawn. My cat woke me up about 20 minutes before my alarm. My boyfriend has forgiven me. I don't know why he's so forgiving towards me. I don't know why I deserve his love. My job and attitude towards it have gone from poor to fair. Today is my review. I'm nervous.

I feel like I have definitely gained weight and it's freaking me out. Just another reason to quit weed. The munchies are so real. My aging adult body cannot just write it all off, the way it used to. I'm uncomfortable in my own skin. I've read that quitting weed zaps hunger for awhile. If only I could be strong enough to really give it a try. 

Weeks ago, I had the realization that I struggle to feel safe in my skin. Last night, I looked through two old cell phones, to see if there were any old text messages from my brother who passed. There was not. But there was a few "locked" messages from my ex. The abusive D. I don't know why I saved them. I guess to never forget. Did I really think that I would?

One of them, in the context of him defending his abuse to me, was him saying that I got hit with a pillow but deserved a cinderblock.

Another said that he wished we kept the baby.

Another said that I was the ONLY beautiful girl in the entire world. And that he loved me so much, "it was hell".

I wish I didn't read them again. I'm glad that 99% of our communications have been deleted. All social media conversations are gone. But those few messages, plus old journals, plus this blog obviously - exist. It's hard sometimes to remember him, and how he was. I don't NEED to remember him. I don't WANT to remember him.

But he was someone I dated for so long. I thought I loved him. We experienced my pregnancy and chose to go through the horrors of abortion together. I'm not going to say it brought us closer because hell no. But it was a MAJOR event in both of our lives. It affected us both and I would never say that it didn't.

I'm just glad I got out. Ugh. Why did I give him so much of me? 

More importantly, why, in the aftermath of his abuse, did I BECOME so abusive? Why did I learn from him? Why do I find myself SAYING similar things, and doing similar things? "The abused become abusive" is something true in my experience. And I completely admit that I have become abusive. It's not ok. I just don't know how to stop.

I gotta get ready for work. Had nightmares last night, as usual.

Hopefully today doesn't suck.

It's tomorrow but still tonight

I'm burning bridges left and right. Skipped my best friend's birthday get together. Ghosted my parents after my brother's death. Earlier tonight, said something unforgiveable to my boyfriend. Not sure how much longer I'll be able to call him that. 

Today was a day of self loathing. I have never hated myself more. My body radiates hate with every move I make. I ache with it.

I tried to go without weed today and failed. Work has gone to total shit. I am in a major depressive "episode' and my thoughts get so dark it scares me.

I can't even call myself thin. As I age, my body softens. You never think it will happen to you... I feel fat as hell and look like shit.

Put on what I thought was a cute outfit and was having a good hair day for the concert we went to tonight. My boyfriend said nothing. We had been tense and in disagreement mode all afternoon. Made the mistake of getting together for a concert we planned to go to. Fought there. Fought afterwards.

It sucks. I long to feel loved and desired. And he usually does. But the problem is that I don't love myself. I lie to myself and say that I do. But I'm admitting here: it's bullshit. I'm fake. I lie to others and put on a show as naturally as breathing. 

I wish I didn't rely so deeply on other's approval. I wish a lot of things. Maybe if I was a different person, life would be better. But the only person I know how to be is me, a gigantic fuck up.

It's late. Good night.