The BreakUp
I went to NYC for some intense training and I knew that it would set me off balance for a little bit. When I came home, after much consideration of whether to stay and what time to leave so that Joe could still pick me up, Joe failed to pick me up from the train station. I took a cab ride-- it was nothing more than about $10 with tax. But I was really excited to see him and was hoping that it would work out. My intuition was telling me that something would go wrong-- that he somehow wouldn't pick me up but W was there, saying, "It's going to be different. Just have different expectations," even though I was telling him that Joe had just sort of given up on the relationship and blamed the band.
Honestly, I think the thought of moving in together scared Joe. I guess he didn't know how to deal with it so he just put me off-- he came to the house later and later, blaming practice (but then blaming the guys for not getting together to practice). He knows that if he doesn't bother them they don't think about practicing. He's a little obsessive about getting all of his money's worth out of the practice space. I've watched him do it. When his hand was injured and he couldn't play, he was telling the band members he would meet them, to clean up, to practice. He was so on them to practice that they were confused as to why he cared. He later said that he didn't practice for two weeks and they didn't either. At the end of the day, I know it's none of my business now and for the best that we're apart.
I've been feeling very strong within myself because I know I did everything, said everything I had to say and gave him the chance to make things right. He didn't. He couldn't handle when I would get rightfully angry about the situation. And when he disappointed me on Friday, I ask if we were together or not since I couldn't take the confusion anymore. He mentioned something about a last conversation. He also insists that we see each other to say good-byes. There's nothing left to say. If I see him and see him cry like he has been, I'm just going to feel sorry, let me heart warm and go back to him, even though nothing has changed. The band, work and family and anxiety and stress will still be there while he takes advantage of my time, my affection and whatever else he will. I've stopped putting up with it.
I re-wrote my poems from years ago and you know, they're all the same fucking thing. It's me-- being here, being there, begging for attention and explaining myself. I would get so mad, I'd have to tell the chronicle of events that lead to the break up. I guess I was hoping that someone would say, "Yes, you were right, he wasn't treating you right and how dare he treat you so badly." I have it now, of course, but I didn't have it then.
The same night that Joe and I broke up, a client emailed me, all upset, trying to prove a point by not attending session and he told me to fuck off, go to tell and called me a cheap whore. I know it's his projection. It was still hurtful. He wrote an apology letter and wants me to email him or something. I want to email the person who maintains his finances and tell her that I am not communicating with him and that we have terminated therapy. I don't think he fully gets what he did and you know, I don't want to continue with him anyway. He takes up so much of my time and energy, which I now have very little of.
He told me that good ol' Lorain was talking shit about me-- saying I was greedy. Now, I expect this from Lorain since she observes people and then when she's upset, she says shit. She called someone in the community a skinny bitch-- and then still worked with her. Oh geez. Anyway, I put Lorain on a restricted level on my FB so that I wouldn't have to see her or have her like or not like things that I post. I really don't care.
I realized that she might have told him that I was greedy so he would stop obsessing over me. So, thanks Lorain. And I also realized that she often tells me things that she doesn't tell other people. But the issue is that I don't ask. I don't want to be the person she unloads on. I thought she had 100s of people to unload on but she chooses me. I forget that sometimes. Just like I forget that what my clients say to me are not the things they say to others.
In thinking more about what I needed as a kid. My mom used to get really anxious if I laughed because that meant I might pee my pants. At the worse, I'd have to sit on a bag on the car seat and hope for best going home. Now, I have my gym bag. A few months ago, I had such bad bowel problems, well, I crapped myself at work. I quickly went down stairs, changed my clothes, and was done. Luckily, no one was at work. It was either that or go with crappy pants to a store and hope something fits. Ew. Anyway, I feel like this is the solution. I wish my mom first, would have let me have time to laugh at home. Maybe it wouldn't have been such an anxious experience for me. Second, I wish that she would have kept a gym bag in the car and told me, "Now, we have this, when we use something from it, remember to bring the bag in and we'll wash the clothes. OK?" This sounds so simple but she didn't do it. I wish I felt that this was something that was normalized, instead of something to be embarrassed about.
I better go.
Honestly, I think the thought of moving in together scared Joe. I guess he didn't know how to deal with it so he just put me off-- he came to the house later and later, blaming practice (but then blaming the guys for not getting together to practice). He knows that if he doesn't bother them they don't think about practicing. He's a little obsessive about getting all of his money's worth out of the practice space. I've watched him do it. When his hand was injured and he couldn't play, he was telling the band members he would meet them, to clean up, to practice. He was so on them to practice that they were confused as to why he cared. He later said that he didn't practice for two weeks and they didn't either. At the end of the day, I know it's none of my business now and for the best that we're apart.
I've been feeling very strong within myself because I know I did everything, said everything I had to say and gave him the chance to make things right. He didn't. He couldn't handle when I would get rightfully angry about the situation. And when he disappointed me on Friday, I ask if we were together or not since I couldn't take the confusion anymore. He mentioned something about a last conversation. He also insists that we see each other to say good-byes. There's nothing left to say. If I see him and see him cry like he has been, I'm just going to feel sorry, let me heart warm and go back to him, even though nothing has changed. The band, work and family and anxiety and stress will still be there while he takes advantage of my time, my affection and whatever else he will. I've stopped putting up with it.
I re-wrote my poems from years ago and you know, they're all the same fucking thing. It's me-- being here, being there, begging for attention and explaining myself. I would get so mad, I'd have to tell the chronicle of events that lead to the break up. I guess I was hoping that someone would say, "Yes, you were right, he wasn't treating you right and how dare he treat you so badly." I have it now, of course, but I didn't have it then.
The same night that Joe and I broke up, a client emailed me, all upset, trying to prove a point by not attending session and he told me to fuck off, go to tell and called me a cheap whore. I know it's his projection. It was still hurtful. He wrote an apology letter and wants me to email him or something. I want to email the person who maintains his finances and tell her that I am not communicating with him and that we have terminated therapy. I don't think he fully gets what he did and you know, I don't want to continue with him anyway. He takes up so much of my time and energy, which I now have very little of.
He told me that good ol' Lorain was talking shit about me-- saying I was greedy. Now, I expect this from Lorain since she observes people and then when she's upset, she says shit. She called someone in the community a skinny bitch-- and then still worked with her. Oh geez. Anyway, I put Lorain on a restricted level on my FB so that I wouldn't have to see her or have her like or not like things that I post. I really don't care.
I realized that she might have told him that I was greedy so he would stop obsessing over me. So, thanks Lorain. And I also realized that she often tells me things that she doesn't tell other people. But the issue is that I don't ask. I don't want to be the person she unloads on. I thought she had 100s of people to unload on but she chooses me. I forget that sometimes. Just like I forget that what my clients say to me are not the things they say to others.
In thinking more about what I needed as a kid. My mom used to get really anxious if I laughed because that meant I might pee my pants. At the worse, I'd have to sit on a bag on the car seat and hope for best going home. Now, I have my gym bag. A few months ago, I had such bad bowel problems, well, I crapped myself at work. I quickly went down stairs, changed my clothes, and was done. Luckily, no one was at work. It was either that or go with crappy pants to a store and hope something fits. Ew. Anyway, I feel like this is the solution. I wish my mom first, would have let me have time to laugh at home. Maybe it wouldn't have been such an anxious experience for me. Second, I wish that she would have kept a gym bag in the car and told me, "Now, we have this, when we use something from it, remember to bring the bag in and we'll wash the clothes. OK?" This sounds so simple but she didn't do it. I wish I felt that this was something that was normalized, instead of something to be embarrassed about.
I better go.
posted by PandoraAphroite at
12:07 PM
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