#22 | radical acceptance
Last week gave me whiplash, but it was also an inflection point. Like I wrote in my last post, my defining emotion was anger. Spending 3 days touring apartments, some of which were sad shoeboxes, sucked the remaining energy from my being. However, the only ways anger actually resulted in action were to write that blog post and then politely draw better boundaries. I would say it passed through me relatively smoothly and quickly before morphing into sadness.
My friends all say I'm doing a "good job" with all of this, which, upon my pressing, they jokingly defined as "not going crazy style," i.e. lashing out and saying hurtful things to her. They said if that ever changes, there is no judgement and it doesn't make me a bad person. So far, I haven't sent scathing walls of text or demanded that she owes me another conversation. I've just been crying, texting my friends all the time, and writing until my brain runs dry. My therapist has remarked on my lack of anger a couple times now as well. She said it's good that I'm not "martyring myself" too much, instead reaching out to my ex with controlled questions that ensure I don't build up resentment. But she affirmed that I'm allowed and encouraged to feel anger in our sessions.
It's nice to hear this, but I also have a sense of fear. Is something going to happen that makes me go crazy?
I went through a messy breakup before. Not wanting to do long distance, he said we should break up, but we continued to stay in touch despite the feelings still being there. It was a bad idea, because our lives moved forward even when my heart didn't. I left a drunk and emotional voicemail; sent awful, guilt-tripping texts; and had a panic attack when I ran into him at a music festival. That process left me with so much embarrassment and no closure at all. I've been afraid of losing control and composure again, so I'm trying my best to collapse into the arms of my friends and letting the feelings out in other ways, instead of at her. When she and I previously joked about breaking up, I always said I worried I would go crazy and make a fool of myself.
I surprise myself now. I've been reading In Nature Things Merely Grow by Yiyun Li, wherein the author writes about coping with grief through radical acceptance. My ex is wading through immense grief, which is a fact that cannot change, so my approach thus far has been to also radically accept the state of things in the present. The facts: we are no longer together; she is struggling but does not want me around right now; she still cares about me, and I, her; I'm worried about her becoming suicidal. But what exactly is acceptance when it comes to breakup grief? Here I am, accepting the state of things, though I still love her dearly.
I've been wondering when a friendship can healthily happen. Do I need to be completely 'over' her? Would it be more for her, or for me? Am I just wanting to 'prove myself' still, or do I actually want to offer my friendship? I was originally thinking that I genuinely do want to help her through this time, but I want to be wary of selfish motivations. She doesn't want my pity. All of this is next on the feeling-processing docket.
My week in moments:
Last Friday, my housemate invited me to an ambient electronic set at one of my favorite venues that was going to have a live cellist. It was dark. I smoked half a joint and sat down, ready for the show, but suddenly started intensely crying because my thoughts wandered to the idea that her presence in my life felt like a need, not a want. How could she not need me at all during such a difficult time, even just as a friend? Was she pushing me away because she wanted to die, and she knew I wouldn't want her to? I leaned over to my friend to try talking about this, but the show promptly started and I lost his attention. The music was much more scary and ominous sounding than I expected, so I quietly left and walked thirty minutes home, crying and calling a friend as I crossed a bridge. I made it home, journaled, and fell asleep by midnight. The next morning, I woke up and came back to earth, repeating what I needed to remember: just because she doesn't want me in her life doesn't mean that I'm nothing to her or that I'm a bad person; withdrawing is how she prefers to deal with emotions; and, life goes on.
My friends and I just roadtripped from New York to Chicago since one of them recently had surgery and couldn't board a plane. On the way, I ate an incredibly bad bean burrito. I asked for guac and no cheese, but it had cheese and no guac. It was also cold. Oh well.