Lessons?
I moved to another part of town yesterday and a lack of consistency has never bothered me before, but I'm desperately looking forward to having a place I can call home. I'm grateful for this temporary living space, especially since I've never explored this area before. So far it is worth the hype and I wish I hadn't lived in my old apartment for two years in the business suburbs. I guess you live and learn, hopefully.
So, I guess the first thing to write about is that this breakup doesn't feel nearly as bad as I expected it to. I just figured if it took me 3.5 years to truly get over what was technically a 2 month relationship, a year-long relationship would take..? Perhaps one random day later this year all of a sudden the feelings will hit me. I'm starting to think that that won't happen though. There are so many more bad memories than good ones that it blows my mind. I think the first time we had a break or "broke up" I was devastated at the gym, where we met, because it reminded me of him. But the gym has so many more memories for me that are completely unrelated to him and after losing count of the number of break ups, it stopped mattering. Is there a sad irony to that? So after that many terrible, terrible fights, the final one ends up feeling insignificant. Looking back, he is a really good example of almost everything I don't want.
I think what has actually really helped with moving on is how much my life is in flux right now. And I feel like I'm always meeting the perfect people for the perfect situation or a lot of good timing has been happening. I suppose that is just a perspective thing though. I could say I met my current roomie just in time for the roomie situation, but it's bad timing in terms of the likelihood of having something real.
Maybe the most important lesson is to go with my gut feeling. That's not saying I'm always right, but if there is a strong, consistent, overarching feeling, just fucking follow it. Not only was there a gut feeling, there was unanimous agreement from everyone. I fought the feeling so hard, for so long, like it became second nature. In a way, it was a battle with myself. For me, it was hard to leave because I deeply believed he was the one to stop looking after. It doesn't even make sense because I was unhappy so often, but it's kinda easy, at least for me, to fall into a trap like that. I guess I thought that was all I was worth, that I deserved to be treated that way. I'm like seriously elated to know that I'm not with him anymore as I'm sitting here reflecting. Now there is the unknown, the possibility of anything, and anything was better than that. Here's a small example that I forgot at the time of making the list of 40 some bad things on reddit: we were headed somewhere in the car, he was driving, started telling me a story that starts the same way as one he recently told me, so I sarcastically said, oh haven't heard this one before, and he flipped out hard. Yes it was kinda bitchy of me but my tone wasn't serious. His response? Literally, "fuck off" in a stern way that was so condescending I wouldn't say to anyone. Obviously I apologized and asked him to continue the story. He wouldn't. He turned the car around and drove angrily back. Just like my parents did, only this was actually worse or maybe the same. I don't know. I thought I was worth about as much as being told fuck off more times than I can count. Just that alone makes me hope he dies under a bus slowly. I can't believe I let that happen not once, but many times.
Growing up being verbally abused made it hard to see how I was in an abusive relationship. I feel stupid for valuing such a thing. I feel stupid for protecting time after time this thing that hurt me. Like I wanted to be unhappy. Like I enjoyed letting someone else make me feel like shit. And that's my brief segue way into E who was the final straw to aid in my ending of the relationship with R. I don't need someone in my life that constantly criticizes me condescendingly out of the blue. Let alone, he doesn't even know me but for some absurd reason thinks he does.
The second lesson is that I have trust issues, which is a problem tied to other things such as a sense of self-worth and the ability to communicate effectively. I don't know what else to say about this... Well, I want to trust people. Isn't there a saying that people who don't feel secure have a hard time trusting? I was also physically abused by my parents by reasoning of discipline. For as long as I lived at home, which was throughout grad school at 24, or if I was ever under their roof again, I could get hit for upsetting them. Why should I forgive them when they will carry that sentiment to their graves? They lamented to my face that they wish they had hit me more because then "I would've turned out better." They don't see or even begin to understand how their methods fucked me up and abuse is bad regardless of intent...or that it is even abuse. So, my parents, my family, does not give me security, at least not in a sense that is...love? Obviously they immigrated and sacrificed for me, so it is hard to reconcile and ultimately I don't feel secure in the...dynamic? The way I found to preserve my sanity was on the internet through video games and forums. To this day, if I'm being yelled at, by anyone, my brains expects me to get smacked or hit in the next few moments. So those times when R yelled at me in my face, I flinched, I thought it was coming. I was "trained" to not fight back, to not even put my arms up, to just close my eyes and let it happen. And for that, fuck them.
In stark contrast, my roomie has literally little notes or cards all over his house from his parents in German but they seem to carry a positive, loving vibe. A little card on the mantle, a little card tucked away in a kitchen drawer, a little card in a box of random things...I'm glad there are people like that out there. I don't know that feeling but maybe...I wish I did.
Every once in a while I have a normal phone conversation with my mom that gives me a bit of hope. Well, it was normal except for the part that she showed a complete disrespect for my passion for climbing. So why bother trying to fix anything? I used to send her videos or pictures, and at first she was supportive. But it didn't take long for her to put down yet another thing I enjoy. Am I hopeful or just stupid? I think every time I talk to her, she makes me feel like shit but in this fucked up way that is like, "hey I'm making you feel like shit from a place of care!" Is this a Chinese cultural thing?
These last two years no longer living under their roof have been the best. I have friends for the first time. I have hobbies, am growing as a person, and want to get up in the morning. In a world where I don't feel like I completely fit in anywhere, the sport of climbing gives me a common ground with others. I suppose that is where I belong. That's how R aptly put it. And I just realized my ex is R also. I don't mean him here.
I care about the people in my life more than I do material possessions. That sounds dumb to say, but the point is that value is in people and not things. My parents were controlling in weird ways and I wasn't allowed to go out much, so I found value in clothes...both real and pixelated. I've talked about how I wished I was there for others more this past year. So it's a start from here. People are always there for me, such as K, and I'm really glad we cleared up some serious miscommunication. My communication issues link with my general lack of caution...which is also related to being more respectful. (More on this later...)
Speaking of people and climbing, a legend came by my local gym last week. I now feel bad for cramming in line for a picture. He didn't climb anything. Maybe he wanted to and ran out of time?
I am literally sitting by the window of a cafe across the street from a popular late-night pizza venue. It's both familiar and unfamiliar, and definitely unexpected. Certainly not to be walking home after midnight. Walking. Home. "Home."
So, I guess the first thing to write about is that this breakup doesn't feel nearly as bad as I expected it to. I just figured if it took me 3.5 years to truly get over what was technically a 2 month relationship, a year-long relationship would take..? Perhaps one random day later this year all of a sudden the feelings will hit me. I'm starting to think that that won't happen though. There are so many more bad memories than good ones that it blows my mind. I think the first time we had a break or "broke up" I was devastated at the gym, where we met, because it reminded me of him. But the gym has so many more memories for me that are completely unrelated to him and after losing count of the number of break ups, it stopped mattering. Is there a sad irony to that? So after that many terrible, terrible fights, the final one ends up feeling insignificant. Looking back, he is a really good example of almost everything I don't want.
I think what has actually really helped with moving on is how much my life is in flux right now. And I feel like I'm always meeting the perfect people for the perfect situation or a lot of good timing has been happening. I suppose that is just a perspective thing though. I could say I met my current roomie just in time for the roomie situation, but it's bad timing in terms of the likelihood of having something real.
Maybe the most important lesson is to go with my gut feeling. That's not saying I'm always right, but if there is a strong, consistent, overarching feeling, just fucking follow it. Not only was there a gut feeling, there was unanimous agreement from everyone. I fought the feeling so hard, for so long, like it became second nature. In a way, it was a battle with myself. For me, it was hard to leave because I deeply believed he was the one to stop looking after. It doesn't even make sense because I was unhappy so often, but it's kinda easy, at least for me, to fall into a trap like that. I guess I thought that was all I was worth, that I deserved to be treated that way. I'm like seriously elated to know that I'm not with him anymore as I'm sitting here reflecting. Now there is the unknown, the possibility of anything, and anything was better than that. Here's a small example that I forgot at the time of making the list of 40 some bad things on reddit: we were headed somewhere in the car, he was driving, started telling me a story that starts the same way as one he recently told me, so I sarcastically said, oh haven't heard this one before, and he flipped out hard. Yes it was kinda bitchy of me but my tone wasn't serious. His response? Literally, "fuck off" in a stern way that was so condescending I wouldn't say to anyone. Obviously I apologized and asked him to continue the story. He wouldn't. He turned the car around and drove angrily back. Just like my parents did, only this was actually worse or maybe the same. I don't know. I thought I was worth about as much as being told fuck off more times than I can count. Just that alone makes me hope he dies under a bus slowly. I can't believe I let that happen not once, but many times.
Growing up being verbally abused made it hard to see how I was in an abusive relationship. I feel stupid for valuing such a thing. I feel stupid for protecting time after time this thing that hurt me. Like I wanted to be unhappy. Like I enjoyed letting someone else make me feel like shit. And that's my brief segue way into E who was the final straw to aid in my ending of the relationship with R. I don't need someone in my life that constantly criticizes me condescendingly out of the blue. Let alone, he doesn't even know me but for some absurd reason thinks he does.
The second lesson is that I have trust issues, which is a problem tied to other things such as a sense of self-worth and the ability to communicate effectively. I don't know what else to say about this... Well, I want to trust people. Isn't there a saying that people who don't feel secure have a hard time trusting? I was also physically abused by my parents by reasoning of discipline. For as long as I lived at home, which was throughout grad school at 24, or if I was ever under their roof again, I could get hit for upsetting them. Why should I forgive them when they will carry that sentiment to their graves? They lamented to my face that they wish they had hit me more because then "I would've turned out better." They don't see or even begin to understand how their methods fucked me up and abuse is bad regardless of intent...or that it is even abuse. So, my parents, my family, does not give me security, at least not in a sense that is...love? Obviously they immigrated and sacrificed for me, so it is hard to reconcile and ultimately I don't feel secure in the...dynamic? The way I found to preserve my sanity was on the internet through video games and forums. To this day, if I'm being yelled at, by anyone, my brains expects me to get smacked or hit in the next few moments. So those times when R yelled at me in my face, I flinched, I thought it was coming. I was "trained" to not fight back, to not even put my arms up, to just close my eyes and let it happen. And for that, fuck them.
In stark contrast, my roomie has literally little notes or cards all over his house from his parents in German but they seem to carry a positive, loving vibe. A little card on the mantle, a little card tucked away in a kitchen drawer, a little card in a box of random things...I'm glad there are people like that out there. I don't know that feeling but maybe...I wish I did.
Every once in a while I have a normal phone conversation with my mom that gives me a bit of hope. Well, it was normal except for the part that she showed a complete disrespect for my passion for climbing. So why bother trying to fix anything? I used to send her videos or pictures, and at first she was supportive. But it didn't take long for her to put down yet another thing I enjoy. Am I hopeful or just stupid? I think every time I talk to her, she makes me feel like shit but in this fucked up way that is like, "hey I'm making you feel like shit from a place of care!" Is this a Chinese cultural thing?
These last two years no longer living under their roof have been the best. I have friends for the first time. I have hobbies, am growing as a person, and want to get up in the morning. In a world where I don't feel like I completely fit in anywhere, the sport of climbing gives me a common ground with others. I suppose that is where I belong. That's how R aptly put it. And I just realized my ex is R also. I don't mean him here.
I care about the people in my life more than I do material possessions. That sounds dumb to say, but the point is that value is in people and not things. My parents were controlling in weird ways and I wasn't allowed to go out much, so I found value in clothes...both real and pixelated. I've talked about how I wished I was there for others more this past year. So it's a start from here. People are always there for me, such as K, and I'm really glad we cleared up some serious miscommunication. My communication issues link with my general lack of caution...which is also related to being more respectful. (More on this later...)
Speaking of people and climbing, a legend came by my local gym last week. I now feel bad for cramming in line for a picture. He didn't climb anything. Maybe he wanted to and ran out of time?
I am literally sitting by the window of a cafe across the street from a popular late-night pizza venue. It's both familiar and unfamiliar, and definitely unexpected. Certainly not to be walking home after midnight. Walking. Home. "Home."
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