It was like dying…without the commitment…not because it was like sleep, but because the rope tied around my neck reeled me back in. Every! Single! Time! It promised demise but delivered damnation.

It was hard…like breathing…with one hand covering your mouth and the other plugging your nostrils…the screams all internal and futile, each scream a waste of finite oxygen aiding your eventual suffocation…

It felt addictive, like asphyxiation after the first time, a craving for something bad that possibly, sometimes…maybe…came with a promise of satisfaction…if you didn’t die…

Sugar…sugar was an instant release of those happy making endorphins…I’ve just swallowed half a slab already and I’ve barely begun…instant gratification with an upfront disclaimer…an honest exchange of truths “I’m going to eat you now and you shall cease to exist, I am sorry Cadbury, but this is love.”

“I understand, long after I have faded from your memory…many moments after the taste of me no longer lingers on your lusty tongue, you will feel a disconcerting feeling that your hips are not alone…at first you will think that you are paranoid…but soon enough it will dawn upon you in the most magnificent breakdown ever known to man or monster (thats you ladies)…that I am still with you…I never left”.

I love how the little things in life are honest like that…

Eat crap and get fat or die from diabetes, or not really, I may stub my toe and find that the impact ruptured a nerve in my brain causing some chain reaction that ultimately ends with God feeling challenged resulting in my untimely death…how inconvenient…I still had half a chocolate left…

What does it all matter? Scroll up to any of my previous posts and it may as well have been written by a deceased individual, because I can safely say that she (the author) is no longer with us. Why go so far as to compare this post to any of those? Compare them with each other! Each piece written by an entirely different fragmented entity, caused by trauma to the heart and resulting in numerous personas in the brain.

Nope! Not DID or BPD or any of those and I dare to say sadly, just good old defence mechanisms taking on the roles of a psychiatric disorder but without enough commitment to earn us some of the good stuff…

Have I offended someone? You think that I do not know the intricacies of mental disorders or how damning it can be?! Trust me, I am well aware, so aware that I dare to kid, because I have lost the only thing I ever wanted as a result of psychosis…not as in one diagnosis…PSYCHOSIS!

Is there a recognised name/label/stigma for heartbreak? Or is it still filed under “Silly Little Girl Who Can’t Let Go- Section Grade A Dumbass” ?

There isn’t! All you get is the “oh no shame it will take time”, or “here pop these pills that will cause every normal function that somehow managed to stay regular in your body to fuck out and remind you that you’re sad but actually feel nothing about it…for now”.

It just does not work! What is the balance line between, okay sure the lover I refer to is a narcissistic dick at the best of times who seems completely unable to recognise the pain he caused or that his passive aggressive actions that he may not realise are aimed at me (heck maybe I really do think that everything is about me) almost a year after he left me and then ghosted me but continued to partake in areas of my life that would no doubt drive me insane…

And: this sociopathic narc is pure evil! This was his plan the entire time there is nothing good in him! Shun shun Shuuuuuuuuuuuuun! (Yip, Charlie the Unicorn).

Is there a mid point here where we can accept that yes, his own traumas and experiences led him to act the way he did and continues to, (I mean not really though from what I can tell he seems to be the picture of mental stability and perfect gentleman to all)he really could not have turned out any other way. Acceptance of that with a huge dollop of “get over him and move on you didn’t and don’t deserve that!”

We start throwing in terms like ‘trauma-bonds’, karmic partners’…uhhhh The Loch Ness Monsster…who gives a damned donut?! Whatever it is…magical, mysterious or bloody Gummy Berry Juice…He broke us, it broke me and now theres shit scattered all over the floor and no amount of sweeping is going to make this disappear under any rugs!

A year later, I still love him, I am still IN love with him and I cannot imagine that he isn’t coming back for me (totally agree…straightjacket for me)…a year later and he is still in close and constant contact with my family, trying to inadvertently take care of me…and don’t get me wrong…I would never want him to not be a part of the family even if that excludes me…but all that does is causes me to whip out my Sherlock Holmes Hat and magnifying glass in order to appropriate “what ifs” to non-existent causes.

Is he a bad guy? No! Not at all, in fact, he is one of the three greatest men that I have ever known! Here is the crusher though…All that does is confuse the hell out of me as to if he actually did compromise my emotional and mental capacity? The sad truth is that no matter the number of excuses I make for him, or the blame and shame that I take, I think its a resounding yes.

If anyone is reading this they are probably wondering what the point is…

CLOSURE!

I don’t want to pretend to move on from something that I have not been able to receive closure on, nor create a logical and satisfying substitute for myself. Do not be fooled into thinking that “it is what it is”…generally yes, but in this regard…absolutely not! Some things need to be ended like a book…a conclusion and rounding off…a finality that may not be satisfying but is still final.

I want to seal up the bag after ripping everything apart and setting fire to it…but the bubble doesn’t work that way with all matters of the heart. If there is going to be a time to recover fully from this, that time is now. It may take longer than the suggested ’30-45 Working days’ on the back of our human packaging box, but hey, I’ve always known that I had defects…irrespective, the only way out is through, and it may be a long road ahead but I’ll tell you something…

It was like seeing the most exquisite painting the moment your eyes opened for the first time, as if Leonardo had hung it up perfectly within your line of sight. And there it was, just for you. It was like butterflies finally understood that you were in awe of them…fluttering towards you, no longer flying away…As if suddenly background music began to play…violins and pianos orchestrating the sonata that was your life…

It felt like breathing in rainbows and exhaling sunshine…and even when you gasped for air, the suffocation tasted like him…and he was everything.