A little word. A big meaning.
He needs space. The thing is for me it feels as though there really are galaxies and planets between us. I’m lost wandering between the stars but only finding darkness.
I’m bad at not texting. I send multiple texts in a row. I text when I know people are busy because I wanna say something and don’t wanna forget by the time they’re available. So how do I give him space when this is the kind of time I really need to not be alone?
Things are tough at the moment. For me on a personal individual level. And for our relationship. He doesn’t know if he can see our future anymore. Even after I get better. The road to recovery is a long one. I’ve traveled it before. And I’m beginning again. But I’m only at the third step.
I’ve realised the problem: the depression is back. The anxiety has always been there. I think I have too many traits of borderline personality disorder to not consider that as an option. It’s affecting our relationship.
I’ve reached out: to him. To explain. To ask for support. To a friend. But I can’t really talk about it to her. Not whilst it’s happening. That’s how I know I’m suffering again because it’s impossible to talk about. I talked about it to everyone before when I thought I had recovered.
I’ve booked a doctors appointment: it’s for next Wednesday. I have literally no idea what to say. What to ask for. How to get a diagnosis. Whether I’ll even be able to explain. How long I’d have to wait for counselling. Whether I need medication.
Three steps completed already and still I’m at the beginning. This is a road I know well. A road that is long. Hard. Painful. Heartbreaking. Shameful. And lonely.
And he may just be about to make it harder for me. What can I expect really? I know I’m difficult to deal with. I know that. It’s evidenced in my life. I’ve had one serious relationship before this, with my children’s dad, and that ended because of domestic violence. That carries its own residual issues. Most of those I overcame with hard work (alone) and a lot of time.
I thought I’d found my happy place. I thought I’d have it forever. That’s not to say I got comfortable and stopped making an effort. If anything, I’ve been trying harder since I’ve been struggling with my mood. I think I’ve been fighting really hard. I’ve been fighting this thing so hard, without even really realising what it was I’ve been fighting until a couple of weeks ago.
He listed all the problems with our relationship. In reality, they were all symptoms of my mood struggles. See even now I find it hard to admit what it really is. Depression. I have depression. And anxiety. And maybe some other shit thrown in too. As if it’s not hard enough as it is. We talked. I cried. A lot. This was a hard realisation. I thought I had recovered. My life was progressing. I had the family I’d always wanted. The partner I’d always dreamed of. Why would I get depressed now? But boom there it is.
I don’t want us to end. I don’t wanna give up. I don’t think asking for ‘space’ ever leads to a positive outcome. Some people might say if you leave each other alone you will realise how much you miss each other. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. What if it doesn’t though? What if it actually makes you realise that you’re happier without me? Not a part of this family we’ve been growing. I let you into my life. I let you into my kids lives. I let you be their parent and they love you as if you were. And who knows what’s gonna happen now. I’m glad they didn’t ask if you’d be here today, as they usually do. I don’t know what I’d have said. I don’t know how I’d have resisted breaking down.
But, since I keep thinking I’d do anything to save this and to keep us going, I must do what he desires and give him the space he needs. Regardless of the consequences. I’m used to making sacrifices. I can make one more.
I’m also used to being left. To feeling abandoned. To feeling like there’s no reason to carry on. What I’m not used to is having to go to work still. I’ve not felt this low since I started working in December 2015. Today was absolute torture. Sat at my desk, forcing back tears. Wanting to scream and shout and wreck the place. And I’ve got another day the same tomorrow. Who knows how long he’ll need space for? Who knows how long this will go on? Who knows if I’ll even get him back?
I can’t concentrate. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. How am I gonna keep dragging myself out of bed and feeding my kids and forcing the long cold walk of the school run and sitting at work for four hours and then doing another school run, homework, housework, dinner? And then the worst part. When you’re alone, the kids in bed, the time you’d usually spend with the one you love, only he’s not here, you don’t even know if he will be again?
His stuff is here. Lots of it. How am I gonna manage that if he is giving up? How am I gonna be able to see him and not break down and beg like a silly little child? How does anyone ever deal with a break up with someone they absolutely adore?
I’ve been trying to look at things online. To start the recovery process. I read that there are some good workbooks for these problems. I’ve looked at some. I found some free worksheets for relationship related problems. I’m going to print them tomorrow. At least I will feel like I’m doing something productive.
I literally have no idea what’s going to happen. Where my life is headed. It was only a few weeks ago we applied to set up a joint bank account. We were gonna move in the summer, to another town. It was only at Christmas he wrote in his card ‘this is the first card from me and you’ll get another every year for the rest of your life’. Was that even meant? How can you go from ‘I love you now and forever’ to ‘I don’t know if I can see a future’ in a month? How did it end up here? Now I can’t even talk to him. He wants space and it’s my job to respect that. So instead I post on here. He knows my blog and reads it but at least now he has the option to ignore it. I don’t have to see that stupid little read receipt under my writing and know that he’s seen it, and still isn’t replying.
I wish we could rewind to Christmas. That was the best. I’ve always been a little secretly sad at Christmas that I didn’t have a loving partner to spend it with. To enjoy watching the kids open their presents and to spend time choosing presents for a partner that would show my love. This Christmas I had that. And it made the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I don’t wanna lose that. And New Year’s Eve is the worst day of the year for me. All those people out celebrating while I’m at home with sleeping children. Or all the people at home snuggled up with their loved ones kissing at midnight. But this year he was here. We kissed at midnight. I wasn’t sad.
Maybe I won’t lose it. Maybe he’ll decide he doesn’t wanna give up either. But as yet I have no indication. He hasn’t told me he loves me today. That hurts. I’m desperate for it. I’m desperate for a clue.
I’m sure I’ll be posting a lot. I’m going to use this as my counter action when I want to text him. If space is what he needs then space is what he gets. I will cope by myself. I’m almost 26. I’ve only had him 7 months. Sure it’s easier with him around. Sure the road to recovery will be more pleasant and progress faster with someone by my side. But whatever happens I’m strong enough. I got through postnatal depression, an abusive relationship, single parenthood for 5 years, running a household with two children on benefits. I got through suicidal thoughts and self harm. I quit smoking by myself when I was pregnant. I lost weight. I got healthier. I provided a comfy environment for my children meeting all their needs. I pulled myself out of the darkest days. Alone.
Whatever happens my children will always be my refuge, my safety, my reason to carry on. They were my reason to keep fighting when I wanted to die. They were my reason for dragging my lifeless body around until I made it where I was. They were my reason for starting work instead of staying on benefits for another year or two. They are what makes me strong. Brave. A fighter.
I have always been a fighter. Depression means a daily battle, every second. But I will continue to fight it even if it means doing it alone again. I will learn from the mistakes I made last time. I will learn how to resist the bad urges and do the things I know are right when my mind is healthy. Fuck you depression. Fuck you anxiety. Fuck you fear of abandonment. Fuck you heartbreak. I will win. I will beat all of you.