Heartbreak

We’ve all had our fair share of heartbreak in our lifetimes, and I am no exception. But heartbreak isn’t just the traditional ‘boy meets girls, boy loses girl’, it’s all the other things that we love and lose.

The first heartbreak that I can remember was when I was 10. My 3 year old cousin died of an inoperable brain tumour and it broke my heart so much that I stopped believing in God. 17 years later it still breaks my heart every time I think of him and wonder what life would have been like if he was still here. Even though I say I don’t believe, I still pray.

For my thirteenth birthday my Auntie bought me my first ever pet that wasn’t a fish, he was a rabbit called Thumper. My friends at school thought I was mad because of how much I loved him and how much I cried when he died, still aged 13. It didn’t stop me getting pets, I just wanted more and more to love.

At the age of 15, the inevitable happened, I met a boy and I loved him (well at least I thought I did). It wasn’t until I was 16 that he actually broke my heart after finding out that he was a liar. Being the stupid woman that I am, I let him do it again when I was 18. But after that, I never let him or any other man break my heart again, at least not that hard.

When I was 17 my heart broke the hardest when my Mom was diagnosed with cancer. There was a brief time in my life where I was uncertain about the future, my future, her future, the future of our family. I was uncertain of myself, I lost who I was, I acted out, rebelled at school, hurt my friends and pushed people away breaking their hearts too. I’d never seen my Dad cry before. Luckily, I am one of the few and fortunate to say that I didn’t lose her.

I broke my own heart when I was 22. I wasn’t all the things that I wanted to be, I wasn’t going where I had planned or doing anything that I had dreamed. So I tried to take my own life. I broke my parent’s hearts too. But at least now I can say that doing that made me realise that I don’t want to do it again and afterwards I began my journey to learn to love myself.

It broke my heart when I was 23 and my I accidently shattered a water jug that my mom had given to me. Even though it was just an object, it was my Nan’s who passed away when I was three. I felt so silly when I cried but it made me feel close to her. I still search online in case someone is selling the same jug and I’ve learned never to put boiling hot water into anything glass.

Work broke my heart when I was 24. I fell in love with my job and poured my soul into it, but it turned into something else that I didn’t recognise and hurt me to stay, so I had to leave. Now I always put myself first and make sure I have a healthy work life balance.

My best friend broke my heart when I was 25. She didn’t lie to me but she hid the truth. What she covered up didn’t hurt, it was being deceived by someone I trusted. Even though it was supposed to protect me, it did more damage than good. I forgave her because I loved her more than it hurt.

By the age of 26 I was pretty much immune to being hurt by guys, but I hurt myself a little bit every time. I so desperately want to believe in someone and as much as my past experience tells me not to, I can’t help but let myself. I know that one day it won’t be in vain.

It doesn’t get any better at 27. The past 2 weeks have been hell watching someone I love get their heartbroken by someone else I loved. Even though it hasn’t been my heartbreak, it still hurt. It hurt to see her cry and suffer and their relationship deteriorate. It hurt to see something that I loved fall apart because I believed in it and it gave me faith, but now I’ve lost hope again.

I don’t want you to read this and think ‘bloody hell, she’s off again…’ because there is a point to all this heartbreak. The point is, I’m still here, I still have a heart, it still beats, I’m still alive and I still love. Heartbreak is not the end, it’s just the beginning. Every time we break, we get back up, we fix ourselves and we start again. And every time we start again we start with new knowledge, we’ve learnt from our mistakes and we are going to do it better this time. We are stronger because heartbreak makes you stronger. If I can get through it, anybody can.

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Mask

There’s a mask that I wear every day to hide the person I really am and the way I really feel. Everyone always seems to be so shocked when I tell them how sad I am. Apparently I seem like such a happy person, but I don’t have much of a choice other than to act happy.

When you look harder, it’s not so difficult to see what’s under the mask, what everything really means and why I act the way I do.

Everyone thinks that I’m the woman who bought her own place and lives alone because she’s independent. But really I’m afraid of sharing my home with someone, getting close to them and being let down because it's happened so many times before.

Everyone sees me as the busy bee who always has exciting plans and lives an adventurous life. But really I just need to have something to look forward to, something to plan, something to keep my mind occupied so it distracts me from being sad.

I act like the hostess with the mostess who throws parties for all my friends and family. But really I just want an excuse to be around people because it makes me happy.

I’m the life and soul of the party and everyone thinks I’m a laugh. But really I just act like that on purpose so that everyone will like me, invite me to go out with them and be at their parties which makes me feel wanted.

I’m the girl who keeps up appearances. I do my hair, I paint my nails and I wear nice clothes. But I only do it so people will compliment me and so I will feel better about myself.

I’m the gym bunny who eats healthy food (most of the time). But the main reason I do it is because I want to seem proactive and appealing. I’d rather be lying on my sofa eating chocolate, crying at a sad film, but that’s not as attractive is it?

And why do I hide you ask? Because no one wants to be around a sad person. Sad people aren’t fun, not attractive. A sad person can’t go to work to everyday. A sad person can't live a normal life. But a sad person has to do these things. So sometimes I need to pretend to be a happy to do all the things a sad person can't.

Someone recently told me that if I act happy then I will be happy, but I never act sad, so why am I sad?

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The One That Got Away

I seem to be cursed with the infliction of ex-lovers attempting to re-enter my life every now and then and they don't seem to realise how much it hurts.

It could be a matter of days, weeks, months, even years before they come back, and they always do, it's inevitable. Sometimes I'm even stupid enough to allow it.

I don't know if it's because they have genuine intentions, that they realise what they've lost and that they actually still like me or if they just know me too well, know that I'm too soft to tell them to piss off (which is what I should do instead of indulging their ego).

It's so frustrating, they were the ones that left, they always are. And I just can't cope with the emotional turmoil. If you couldn't see me for what I am then, how can you suddenly see it now?

I'm not any different now, if anything, I'm probably better than I was when we met. I'm stronger, fitter, funnier (if that's even possible), smarter, wiser, wiser to your bullshit, and my arse is better than it ever was!

As romantic as you think it is to confess your undying love for me, to tell me that you think about me all the time and that I'm the one that got away, it's not and I'm not. You let me get away for a reason so don't come chasing me thinking you're my knight in shining armour because you're just some idiot in tin foil with a head full of grand delusions.

Someone will come along and see me for what I am, there and then, and know what he has when he has me, not later when it’s too late, and he won't let go. So you can ride off into the sunset with the broken heart that you left me with.

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I’d Rather Be Alone

Recently I’ve had a lot of people asking me how my love life is going and they seem fairly surprised when I tell them that there isn’t one. When they ask me why, I tell them that I’d rather be alone, but that isn’t really true.

I don’t want to be on my own altogether forever and ever, it’s just that I’d rather be alone than with anyone for the sake of not be alone. I’d rather be with someone because I wanted to be with them and not purely because I didn’t want to be single.

I’ve overlooked compatibility issues in the past and compromised because I felt that being with anyone was better than being alone. But sometimes it takes making this mistake (multiple times) to realise that actually, it’s the other way around.

Now, I would much rather be on my own than be with someone who I couldn’t be myself around, or who wouldn’t accept me for everything that I am, or who I wasn’t head over heels for or vice versa.

You might as well be alone if you are with someone who is so unsuited for you that you feel alone anyway. So I’ll stay alone for now until someone comes along that I want to be alone with.

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Balance

Life is a balancing act. Work, social life, friends, family, exercise, hobbies, home and a million other things. (I’ve purposely left out relationships because I definitely don’t have the time or emotional capacity to handle one of those at the moment).

The past week has been a challenge to say the least. It made me feel like I was walking on a tight rope trying to keep my balance but when I tried to move forward, the universe threw a curveball at me. Every time I thought I was stable, along came another obstacle.

For me, the end of the rope gets further and further away every day. I can’t seem to make progress. The moment I think I’ve got myself and my life together, something else happens to knock me down leaving me constantly on the verge of tears. When it has left, when the disaster is over, it’s gone but it broke me just that little bit more and so it might not be there anymore but the pain still is.

There are things that I can control and change but there are things that I can’t. Like when the brakes fail on my car, when people drop out of planned activities leaving you out of pocket or when my family members are sad and there isn’t anything that I can do to help. Those are the things that affect me the most.

I can’t get off the rope because that would mean falling which would be giving up. And although the temptation to give up overwhelming, it would mean losing so many other things as well.

No one wants to work but we need a job for money, we need money to pay for a life, we need a life to feel alive, and if we’re not alive then we might as well be dead. Living has responsibilities and they are always hard, so life can never be easy.

I’m in no way deluded and I know that life will never be easy, but can it at least be a little bit easier sometimes? Please? It’s hard enough to maintain balance as it is but when everything happens at once I want to leave the circus and never come back.

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Thinner

It’s been seven months since I joined the gym and started my weight loss journey and in the wake of the New Year I decided to push myself harder. However, although I’ve lost weight, which I’m really pleased about, I feel like I’m losing something else as well.

Yes I look better and, to some extent, yes I feel better about myself but I feel like I’ve lost other parts of my life.

I’ve changed my diet and I spend an evening a week doing this ridiculous activity known as ‘meal prep’ where you make your food in advance so it’s healthy and you have no excuse to eat rubbish. I can’t let go on the weekends and have a drink because of the big bad calories, I have to eat rabbit food all day and resisting temptation is a constant battle.

I’ve upgraded my workout routine and I spend about four or five evenings a week in the gym. So, as you might have noticed, I haven’t had any time to do my drawings or blogs. I don’t see my friends and family as much and I generally feel as though I have no social life.

I say ‘can’t’ but I can, and I say ‘have to’ but I don’t have to, it is my choice. I’m just beginning to question if achieving the outcome outweighs the sacrifices made. When I look great in the bridesmaid dress at my Auntie’s/Sister’s wedding will I think “wow, this was so worth it” or “wow, I wish I had spent my time doing things that actually meant something because yeah I look great but I’m miserable as sin”?

Maybe one day I’ll find the right balance where I’ll be able to do everything I want in perfect harmony (I wish), but at the moment I feel like not only is the weight disappearing, I am disappearing too. I’m losing all the things that make me, me. Is this the price you have to pay?

At what point will I feel rewarded for all the beads of sweat and all the avoided chocolate bars? At what point will I feel the overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment? It feels nice to have compliments but it would be nicer to feel like I still exist.

P.S. I can't do a handstand.

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Truth

I told myself that I would never write about someone directly, and although this is fundamentally about one person, it’s also about my change of perception.

I am not a proud person. I’ll be the first to apologise, even if I don’t think something was my fault. I am not ashamed to admit when I am mistaken, as much as I cannot stand being wrong. But most of all, I am not afraid to acknowledge how I truly feel.

The truth is, I was in love with the same person for a long time, mostly from afar. For years we intentionally crossed each other’s paths, running never ending circles around each other and playing pointless mind games. I knew they didn’t feel the same way about me but I deluded myself in the assumption that they wouldn’t keep coming back if that was the case.

This was one of the reasons why it didn’t work out with so many other people. I subconsciously belonged to someone else and whilst that person was still available, everyone else was just a second choice and I was always looking for something that I had already lost.

I jeopardised and sometimes even intentionally ruined new relationships because I thought that going backward was what I wanted. The past would call and I would put the future on hold or even hang up. In my mind, I wanted the person that knew me best. In reality, if I had given someone new the chance, they might have learned to know me just as well.

Eventually, I felt like I couldn’t cope with the uncertainty anymore and I asked them to spare me my mental health. There was too much coming and going without definite answers so I attempted to do the mature thing and cease contact (until alcohol intervened, obviously).

I hoped that one of two things would happen, either that I would meet somebody that I loved more or that we would find our way back to each other indefinitely. But sooner or later, I knew the day would come when they would find someone else.

It hurt so much at first but I was already so sick of living in agony, not just over this but other things that I was tormenting myself about, that it made me force myself to change the way I thought.

I told myself that they were not the type of person who would settle for anything other than the best and neither should I. I found happiness in knowing that they were happy, even if it wasn’t with me. I forgave them which in turn lead me to forgive others, as well myself. I wished that the time had come sooner so I might have been able to find relief earlier, but there’s no point thinking like that which made me decide not to let ‘what ifs’ get the better of me.

After admitting to myself how I really felt, I was set free. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders, my outlook on life was completely transformed, and I came to terms with so much more. It was a bit like an epiphany. I let go of my anger, I turned the negative into positives and I finally found inner peace.

Nothing has ever felt so good.

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