When you fall off the wagon, you usually fall pretty damn hard and into a downward spiral of self-destructive behavior with no desire for help or change and absolutely no reason for hope. Your mind becomes resolute with the idea of failure; not just in love, but in life in general. Clearly, the Universe has deposited you exactly where you’re supposed to be despite that deep-seated notion that today’s bleak reality belies your true destiny. That your legacy, believe it or not, is still yet to be fulfilled.
And even though that inner-fire still manages to flicker somehow, you start thinking that to fan the flames is futile. Besides, it's exhausting. Perhaps that desired life that fills your journals, vision boards and dreams at night is not the life that’s meant for you. Maybe you’re living in a fantasy world, fooling yourself and everyone around you into thinking you're capable of anything your mind conceives. But your life is proof that you’re just a loser cloaked in positivity and a misguided belief in “possibility”.
So that’s where I’ve been: on a bender of self-destructive thinking and total neglect of my Indie Girl Recovery. I've been avoiding my diary out of sheer fear of my own reflection. I didn't wanna face myself because I didn't know how to transform ugly into pretty anymore. To feel sad, negative, scared, hopeless and lonely was one thing. But to admit it on paper felt like admitting defeat, despite all of the emotional and spiritual progress I had made over the last six years. It hurt to admit that, no matter how tough and resilient I am, I don't always bounce back after a sucker punch. So, fuck you, Universe!
Here's the truth: When Mr. Weird Science let me know after 1.5 years of dating that he wasn't interested in a "committed" relationship, I knew I did the right thing by walking away. He was getting what he wanted, but I wasn't. I could've pretended that the imbalance of emotions didn't hurt; that I didn't feel rejected or not good enough. But I did. I could've stuck around for the sake of companionship and sex. But for the first time in my life, settling didn't sit well with my spirit. So, while I applauded myself for my newfound sense of integrity, walking away hurt like a mutha-fuggin' bitch. I felt alone again. But, like, acutely alone.
Then two days later and still fresh from rejection, I found out that I had to move... again! All at once, every life-altering blow I'd taken over the last six year felt like a brutal attack. My EX-husband's betrayal followed by separation, divorce, job loss and three moves crushed my heart, my ego, self-confidence and sense of trust.
Fear hit me hard, triggering my fight or flight response. "Fight" is my default mode. But the weight of loneliness hit me harder. So hard, I was ready to tap out.