For the past 9 months I have been in transition. Transition from changing jobs, a lot, transition from moving to a whole new area, transition again from changing jobs. But now I think for the most part I’m transitioned and I’ve never felt more uneasy.
For the first time in a while I have a job that interest me and is helping me learn skills to grow my own business. I don’t dread getting out of the bed in the morning and my weeks go by quickly. I bought a eco friendly car so driving 35 mins each way to work is also not an issue. I got a gym membership and go everyday before work. I have a weekly date with a girlfriend to have drinks at the local pub. I am even seeing a nice guy, although not very often but at least there is some regular sex and companionship in my life. So what now?
I never thought I would miss the days of not knowing what was going to happen, or being so stressed and overwhelmed that all I did was eat popcorn while applying for jobs. Craiglist use to be my life source. I was on it all day, searching for every aspect of my new life. I applied to every job that I may remotely be qualified for and when I finally found one I searched endlessly for a place to live. Once I got the job and found the place, the real fun began.
Moving is always a pain in the ass and stressful, but moving four hours away to what feels like an entirely new world is a whole different can of worms. For the most part things fell into place but that was not without a lot of crying, swearing and alienating all of my loved ones. For over a week I lived out of boxes and bags all over my apartment, I wasn’t completely ready to accept what I had done. I knew I couldn’t go back, but I also wasn’t sold on staying. Then things got a little more comfortable and once again I caused need for a transition.
I’ve been at my job for almost two months and things are good. There is still a lot I need to learn but I’ve become comfortable in my surroundings. I’ve found a favorite coffee shop and even take the shortcut to work. I’ll never be considered a local by any means…that’s harder than being a local in the northeast, but I’ve become comfortable in all of my surroundings. But last night when I walked into the pub and my friend was telling this guy about how amazing I was because I have moved, not only from Tahoe, but from Vermont I wanted nothing more than to keep going. It’s become a sense of pride for me, that I can completely uproot my life, find new jobs, meet new people, develop new routines and now I don’t know how long I want to sit still. I use to think that all I wanted was to find a great guy and build a life together, in a nice place. Now all I seem to want to do is keep exploring, now that I can call it exploring and not running. Transitions are hard, but sitting still is proving to be even harder. I guess the new challenge is to see how long I can last until I want to start all over again.
It’s amazing what the mind can do. Self-sabotage has always been one of my biggest downfalls. Unfortunately, even at the ripe old age of 31, I haven’t quite figured out how to stop it. I begin to lose weight, then binge, I start to get super fit and then get a terrible poison oak rash on my ass, this pattern continues. This self-sabotage follows me into my love life as well.
Two weeks ago I was on cloud nine, thinking that finally it was all coming together. I locked in a great job that I actually care about, my face was clearing up after a four month stint of my skin thinking I was a pre-pubescent teen boy, and I met a great guy from the east coast who seemed open to the idea of a future relationship.
After a lovely Sunday of wine tasting, dinner and comfortable car rides we had “the talk”. We discussed where we thought our relationship was headed, and for the first time ever I was truly honest. I told him I liked him, I liked spending time with him and wanted to see where things went. I also explained that I had a lot going on and that I wasn’t ready for anything super intense, no move in boyfriend, but that I didn’t want to continue hanging out with someone who wasn’t open to the idea of one day, possibly developing a relationship. And to all of this rambling, he replied, “I completely agree”. He left my house that night with my flashlight and an agreement that we would try to get together that next weekend. It has now been over two weeks and I have not heard a word from him…
Often times my hubris gets the better of me. I may be crazy on the inside but I will be damned if any man ever sees that they have hurt me. I am determined to never appear broken or affected. I put on a solid facade of being strong, independent and leading a fulfilling life. Due to this I do not tend to reach out after being rejected. I will try twice, just to know that I did make an effort, but after that I stop, no way someone will make me feel pathetic.
I texted him once, very casual, I texted him again the next day, still very casual and then I heard crickets. Neither of these texts went through as delivered, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt that he never got them. This still didn’t explain why he had not tried to contact me at all. But as always I made a million excuses for why and then a week later I made one last attempt and sent him a simple, “Hey”…this one completely failed to send. The secret crazy person inside me went onto the dating site where I met him and checked his profile, he hadn’t been on there for three weeks and he doesn’t have a facebook so estaintaly he has disappeared.
For a full week after we had had our talk I was walking up in the middle of the night clenching my jaw. I was so worried that the other shoe was about to drop and that I wouldn’t be able to handle it. It has been such a long time since things had been going my way I was terrified that it would all fall apart. I kept convincing myself that I deserved this, that the other shoe had dropped a million times over and this was karma for all the hard work I’d put in.
In reality I sabotaged myself. I wasn’t able to mentally overcome what had always been my truth. I thought so much about it not working that he actually disappeared. And if that wasn’t enough self punishment to get rid of the only relationship prospect I’ve had in a long time, I then ate a bunch of junk, my face broke out again and now I am once again alone, sad and feeling unlovable. I guess I got exactly what I wanted, to be back in my comfort zone of unhappiness. If only my mind were strong enough to convince myself that I deserved love, a good body, face and a good life. Why is it that I think I deserve to suffer so much?