I Am Iron Man

My additive genetics have made the last 30 years a real struggle. For someone who has spent the majority of their life surviving through depression and anxiety, the body and mind craves anything that can replace those feelings. For better or worse, if you can feel anything but what you are feeling you'll pretty much take it. Which is why so many of my young adult years were spent drinking very heavily. And smoking a million cigarettes. But I have come a long enough way to recognize what I was doing, and why I was doing it.

What I am finding about my new life here in Los Angeles is that my predisposition to addiction is actually working in my favor. Over the last few weeks especially, I have become obsessed with feeling the high of the fear of doing new things all alone. It scares the shit out of me walking into a room of strangers to try something I never have before. But oh my god, when you stick that social landing and experience new things with new people - that's fucking crack to me. 

I give off an air of confidence that people often times confuse with the real insecure girl that lives inside me. But that insecure girl is becoming a really bold and brave woman. And chasing the moments where I actually feel that way has become so gratifying. 

I went to a puff and paint event last night. I heard of the event through a fabulous artist I connected with on Facebook. I have never met this woman, and I certainly didn't know her friends. But I bravely walked into an art gallery last night, extended my arm, and let my name out in a shaky attempt at an introduction. Over time the room had filled with people I had never seen before, and slowly with each exchange I started to grow confident in my ability to fit in there. 

The thing that always amazes me, and I would compare to the first time you stand up after a few glasses of wine and realize the intoxication is hitting you, is that in a group of strangers feeling as nervous as can be I manage to make people laugh. Like real belly laughs; getting a moment of joy through a comment my clever little brain came up with and released without much thought.

Outside of being charming and hilarious, I am also really good at caring about what people have to say. This quality, like addiction, has certainly made life harder in some regards. But when in the process of meeting new people and making new friends I want to learn about who is standing in front of me. And not to live up to some social expectation of conversation, but because that human right there has done things and seen things I never have and never will and I certainly want to know as much about that stuff as I can absorb in a brief encounter. People often times seem taken aback by having someone show interest to that level, which to me personally is sad, but it's nice to validate people's existence through a quality I naturally possess.

My other new addictions include trying to drink at least 64oz of water everyday. The feeling I get in my thigh muscles as I walk up a god damn mountain on my way home every day. I'm addicted to wearing my hair curly, as curly as the good lord made it because I don't have time to make it be something else all the time. I am addicted to seeing how many days I can go without a cigarette. And I am addicted to being able to look at my life through eyes that don't criticize and attack the decisions I am make each day. I am addicted to forgiving myself. 

Life isn't always rainbows and sunshine. And although I pride myself on being the eternal optimist, we all know I get down and shit sucks sometimes. And I am going to emotionally reach for a bottle of wine for time to time when I want to feel something besides the bad stuff. But now that I see what my mind and body are capable of turning my weakness into, I feel like a god damn superhero. A superhero with an addiction disorder. So basically I'm Iron Man. 

But Did You Die?

I am right on track for a post break-up blog. The night we broke up I had a girl's night-in with a couple bottles of rose and more than a couple tears. Last night I put on a dress and went dancing with girlfriends and ended the night stuffing my face with chili cheese fries. It seems the next step of the cycle has usually been to put it down on paper. I have had 48 hours to step away from it as well as run the gambit of emotions by submerging myself in it. Now I sit down and tell the story to get it out of me and start doing my best to move on. There is a lot of familiar and comfort in heartbreak for me these days. That's probably sad if you think about it too hard, but I'll take an advantage any where I can find it. 

I'm not going to waste time with the back story. The history is different every time I look at it. I know his history is vastly different from mine, which is vastly different from what it once was to me. My interpretation of how we got here makes sense for me now, and it doesn't change the outcome anyway. The man I love came to come see my new life in LA, with the prospect of making my home his and starting a new chapter together in a new city. The chemistry between us when he arrived was as we'd always left it; completely electric. No matter how much time had passed, we could always pick up somehow more sexually charged for one another than we'd last left it. The days and nights were spent tossing around in sheets, laughing, and affirming our love to one another in every kiss, touch, and dream we shared. 

When we had first started entertaining the idea of him moving here, it was important for me to establish that he would only move here if he saw us being together longterm. Forever. It wasn't that I needed a ring on my finger tomorrow, or him to even have a timeline for us to get there. I have just become really protective of my life here. It has taken all the courage I've ever known to move here and force myself to create a new life from very little.  And now that I have my feet planted firmly enough to know this is where I will thrive and the rest of my life starts, I don't want that to be derailed by someone carelessly coming in and out of it. I wanted to know that we were moving forward together and I wouldn't be taking any steps back for him or us to play catch up. I didn't want him to move here and then be blindsided if he came here to find he didn't want me at all.

The last night he was here the topic of his family had come up. I had enough beers in me to be emotional about the fact that I'd never met them. He is 26, we met when he was 19. And in every year we've spent growing together and sharing big parts of our lives with one another, he never brought me around them. But I had made a big enough impact on his life that I know that they at least knew I was an important part in the success he's had. It was very casually then that he said "they don't even know you exist!" with such levity in his voice you would think he was poking fun at an inside joke that I was just not in on. 

This escalated quickly. He got defense. I was so shocked I couldn't do much but cry. It brought three days of security and romance to an immediate halt. We cried and yelled until the sun came up. Then, exhausted, we held each other for a few final moments, kissed, and resolved to figure it out later. He left and I laid in the exhaustion on a vacation ruined for the next 2 days alone. 

I understand him not acknowledging me to his family is shitty. And it was important to me that he understood that I truly believe I deserve to not only be acknowledged, but to be recognized for everything I have been willing to do to contribute to his life in a positive way. He should want to tell his family about me knowing that's something that would make me happy, but in addition to, he should be excited to share with them that he's able to be supported in a move across the country by someone that loves him so much she will do everything in her power emotionally, fiscally and otherwise to help him through it. Fuck, I have non-romantic partners who have supported me getting out here and I fucking stop strangers on the street to talk about them. It's an incredible thing. Why would you not want to share that with the people in your life? 

As long as I've known this man, his defense to every problem that could come up between two people is tearing apart any benefit of a life shared. He has always looked at needing people, commitment, and relationships as a weakness. And that if you don't get close to people, if you keep everyone arm's length away, you can protect yourself from everything and you won't get hurt. So his response to me saying I needed more was that he didn't want any of it. He didn't want to be forced to make a long term commitment to me, he never wanted that life at all, despite being asked only that thing before agreeing to come out here. I was forcing him to make a decision for US instead of just for HIM and he couldn't risk it. Or maybe it wasn't worth it to him. Or maybe he truly thinks he is going to be better off walking away from someone like me. 

It could have been different. And as heartbroken as I am, I don't want to think that I am breaking free of some horrible abusive relationship. Lord knows the hardest part of this is that I still think that version of my life with him would be an incredible one. But if he doesn't see that, I can't make him. And I don't want to let someone infiltrate my life here without making at least that commitment to me. I do believe our lives are better shared. And I do believe that I am going to be able to love a man until the day one of us dies in such a big and wonderful way it will be the best thing that's ever happened to both of us. I really thought that was going to be him. But if it's not, I'm not going to risk the chance of getting to have that somewhere else in my life. 

I miss him so much some times I get dizzy. It's when life dips back into normalcy for just a moment and your finger goes into autopilot to send over that meme on instagram. It takes my breath away how crushing it feels to remember he's not there anymore. We have been through a lot in 7 years. And the thing I was most proud of towards the end was I knew we would always find a way to make it work. Because our love was the big love. Our love is a big love. This one definitely rocks my foundation harder than any heartbreak before. But heartbreak is heartbreak, it'll be a fucking beast until it's not anymore. Until the absence of him becomes the norm and time blurs the memory of every raw feeling I am suffering through now. Because a broken heart is the absolute worst, but not once has it ever killed me.