Good evening my lovelies
I am compelled to blog tonight on the advice of my therapist! (Well I am supposed to be keeping a daily diary but I thought what the hell I'll blog this fucker).
So.
Life has been pretty much perfect recently. Like literally could not be going better. I am IN LOVE with my new student life and on the whole feel generally fantastic.
However, yesterday I hit a little stumbling block and it reminded me how precarious my position is both mental health wise and DV recovery wise.
The morning began with a criminal law lecture. 9am. And we moved onto a new topic... "Non fatal, non sexual offences against the person". Now immediately you will realise this somewhat strikes a cord with me as we were talking about essentially the offence my ex was convicted of.
I was feeling strong, I thought hey I can do this! In fact it may even help me in my studies having a bit of prior knowledge of the sitch! Took a little photo and posted it to twitter with a little joke caption about how I know all about this however deep down inside I was feeling MINOR yet REAL pangs of anxiety.
Left the lecture, hung out with my friend for a bit and went to collect my first properly marked essay and I was OVERJOYED to find that I had got a first for it! Excellent, I thought. I am doing what I need to be doing and it is paying off. Fabulous. Went for lunch with another friend who bought me a celebratory burrito and all was well in the world.
After lunch I went and met up with another (and if I may say so particularly fabulous) mate gee as we had scheduled a little study date to revise homicide as we had a little practice mock exam in it this week. I hadn't quite managed to shake of the earlier feeling of angst but I was able to put it to one side and have a nice time. In fact, we went to a bar after studying before our last lecture and our other mate Emma came and I was sitting there just thinking about how happy I am and then I bought myself a University of Liverpool Hoodie which I'm not even arsed if you think its sad I'm MADE UP with it. In general, life was sound and I was a happy legal scholar.
BUT THEN
Our final lecture of the day was English Legal Systems and they put it at 4pm on a Tuesday which is obviously vile so all feeling tired we go and take our seats in the lecture theatre. We were sitting there waiting for it to start and I had my phone on the little tabley bit in front of the seats when it began to ring......
It was Ash
Calling me
Now bare in mind I have not spoken to him since like JUNE
Well
Basically I fucking shit myself didn't I. Lashed the phone in the direction of my mates pretty much screaming as if it was made of acid.
My mates had a limited knowledge of the situation as it had come up in conversation so they quickly realised the severity of the situation and honestly like angels sent from God they somehow managed to stop me going into full mental breakdown.
I could feel it coming on. Just the sight of his name on my phone made me want to vomit. A huge wave of anxiety, nausea, the shakes, and that actual feeling of "I'm going to throw up" all happened at the same time. Like seriously I was holding back chunks.
Gee, God love her, she just held onto my arm and thank Christ she did because I seriously don't know what I would have done without her at that point. I was sat in a lecture theatre so I couldn't go anywhere, it was about to start, the lecturer was right in front of me, I was stuck there.
Traumo'd.
So anyway the phone stopped ringing but I knew that wasn't the end. I gave the phone to my mates and said you need to take this because I guarantee there is a text coming now.
I was correct
TEXT: "Hey how are you. Can we have a chat when you are free please".
Looks of disgust where exchanged amongst us three amigos and then the inevitable "but what can he possibly want" thoughts started.
I ignored the text.
And then he rang again.
It was a fucking onslaught, what the hell is going on?!!!! Couldn't cope one bit. Has he sensed I am happy and decided to swoop in? is he psychic? Is he watching me? what in the name of sweet jesus and the orphans is happening!!!!!!!!!
The lecture began and I tried to concentrate as best I could however it was all a little much and basically I couldn't tell you a thing about what we were learning about.
Made it through the lecture and by the time I got to my car there was another text this time with a kiss on the end asking me to call him so... and this potentially was a dickhead move on my part.... I rang him back.
It was a bullshit reason for calling. No one is dead, no one is hurt, quite frankly, it didn't warrant a phone call to anyone let alone me. It is funny because my mate in work asked me if id heard from him the other day and she said "they normally drop in around Christmas" and low and behold here we are.
I reiterated to him that he is a bellend, suggested he sorted his life out, pointed out hes gone precisely nowhere in 2 years and told him I was far too busy and important to be dealing with this shit. He seemed to accept this although there followed a threatening text later about "lets talk tomorrow" which thank CHRIST I am happy to report at 8.15pm has not resulted in a further phonecall so I am *hoping* this may be the end of the incident.
Of course it wont be the end of the incident. He'l be back on the blower in a few days I'm sure of it. And for some strange reason I am powerless to do anything about it. Because, any normal person would just block him right? Well..... I DONT WANT TO. Work that one out.
I know you will all be reading this thinking fucking soft cow just block the cunt and move on well let me tell you as SOON as I am over it and no longer in love with him I will get right on that but right now folks I am saddened to say that I am NOT over it and I probably wont EVER be over it so FUCKING SUCK ON THAT!
Sorry
My mind is erratic at the moment and I am sure this is probably translating into my words.
Anyway after all this carry on I then had to complete this mock exam thing and I'm telling you now its shit. Its the biggest pile of shit ive ever written and I feel ashamed handing it in.
So here, dearest readers, we have a prime example of how a mere phone call can fuck up ones day, ones studying and ones cheery disposition. And that is not ok. What is even less ok is that I am allowing it to happen. I know I am allowing it to happen and therefore am not only expecting judgement I am actively inviting it.
It is strange terrain I find myself in here. I cant explain it, but I am torn between loving him and missing him, and at the same time never wishing to speak to or see him ever ever again. It would almost be easier if he was dead. I know that sounds awful and I am not wishing anyone dead here or anything but It would be so much easier. In fact I pretty much tell myself he is dead every day which I suspect may be why I find it so disconcerting to receive a phonecall from him at 4pm on a random Tuesday frigging afternoon!
And relax!
I feel a lot better offloading these random thoughts actually. Turns out the therapist is right, Its good to talk.
I know I suffer with a touch of the crazies, and I know that my levels of whatever aren't the same as everyone elses, but I swear to god each and every time I have a major depressive episode, you can usually trace it right the way back to SOME FUCKING CUNT.
So what have we learned from this? How will we turn this into a positive?
1. I have come so far. I am a million miles away from the girl rocking under the Spider-Man blanket with a black eye. I have got myself to uni. I am studying Law, I am gettind FIRSTS in fucking law and in general I am kicking ass left right and centre
2. I acknowledge and accept that Ash is my Achilles heel, I was essentially a battered and abused person and therefore its perfectly sound to feel a little shitty about that now and again.
3. I haven't cried. This is surely a positive. I haven't cried or had the slightest inclination to call or text him. I have however bawlked but no sick came out.
4. Must not let the bastard further into my head. He is always there. I think about him every day I'll be honest. But he's not the main thought in my head, he's far at the back now with GCSE science.
5. It turns out, I am boss at law. I am going to be a super shit hot lawyer and super shit hot lawyers do no associate with the biscuits.
Right. Feeling much better now! Until next time! xxx
PS I am aware this is full of typos but you aren't my tutor so calm yaself down!
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