my lifeline.

That is what this has become: mylifeline. I have notes I need to upload here from my phone (and I need to figure out the app password since I'm paying for it, classic), but I'm just going to start letting out the toxic waste in my head here. A livestream, lessons learned & dating games combined. Quickly adding this tidbit after posting the picture and once again remembering how much Nicky did for me and how horribly I repaid him - I have to make that right, Maige has saved my life 10x over this week alone. I have been terrified of going anywhere I know dealers because I'm no longer on suboxone like I was before moving to Raleigh, but I'm finally strong enough to separate going to visit the slice of heaven that is their farm doesn't mean I have to mentally return to any place I was in the past. It's finally time to focus on the future.

With that in mind I need to take a moment and thank the universe for putting a friend in my path when I needed one - a kind stranger looking for nothing but friendship from another lonely female. I NEVER would slip back to doing drugs, but I also realize this is by far emotionally the closest I've ever been to considering it. I guess 3 years and and 2 months is the magic number (about a year and a month off that fake Adderall/crack/whatever it was). Not only has staying sober made me realize that for better or worse, my crazy is not caused by the ups and downs of being high then not - I am the ups and downs.

Maybe all along I've been fighting that that's who I am, and anyone who can't handle it isn't someone I need. Clearly, I was so bad for the anxiety of someone I felt more than I ever thought possible for, he chose to seek solace in someone else. When someone says "it's not you it's me" it always means it's you. And I need to learn to be okay with that - more than okay, I am learning to embrace it.

Being heart broken is part of life - admittedly it's one of many things I numbed myself from for a decade, so god bless everyone I dated since getting sober for being there for me until they couldn't. It hurts to not be prioritized: apparently the way I showed him he was my priority and the way he showed me just didn't work out. Right now, I am hurting and want to die... but it will pass. Just like every other time I've ever panicked, found myself at a new 'rock bottom', or felt like being alive was a chore the past 3+ years, I've managed to deal with it without resorting to opiates (yes, there were a handful of exceptions - I can imagine all 3 vividly, and refuse to discount all the hard work* by focusing on the exceptions) and this will be no different.

Did I think I met my future husband? Yes. Does that mean I want to get married? I don't know, although how willing I was when saying so meant staying in his good graces terrifies me. I'm surprised I didn't finance us a trip to Vegas for it. Thank heavens he didn't even follow through on plans to get a tattoo together. Clearly, if my soulmate exists (besides Maige) he's an ambitious planner without being annoying. Tyler even insinuated this multiple times in the past, but I refused to see it because I didn't want to lose the 'connection' I was so sure was there.

Was there? Fuck if I know. All I know is that what I don't feel is guilt, and while I haven't quite reached the level where I'm proud of myself, at least I didn't give him more money before returning to his girlfriend. I think where I put my foot down was fair, and if his mom and sister think otherwise then they can lend him $800 to give back to me and they'll see how sane, reasonable, and quiet I will be - far out of their lives.

Does it feel nice to realize this past week was pointless and I should have just accepted the money back and never spoken to them again? No, because I don't regret giving his mom the money back and being damn sure that at the very least he knew I would ever actually do anything to threaten his health or freedom. Apparently, a few months together wasn't enough to convince him - no fucking shit, someone with trust issues isn't going to trust anyone until a hell of a lot longer time. But he didn't want to wait, so he can ask his new girlfriend for money. Guilt tripping me because he knew how lonely I've been is not okay and never will be. As hurt as I am and was all day, I'm glad he didn't come over, because I would have been panicking more about my own financial situation and be 100x as hurt. So much for my theories that he was running a long con or found a thruple for us. A girl can dream, right?

Right. And a girl also needs to pack, because I have less than 24 hours to be out of here and then I'm going to sleep like a damn baby because being heartbroken is preferable to (very few, but enough) other alternatives that at least it's something I know I can live with. I need to learn more about this reptilian mode... something tells me that if you can realize you're in it, you're no longer in it... but maybe that's simplifying it too much and tomorrow I'll delete this in shame. Nope, see that's how I know I've finally had enough: I'm ready to move on. In his world the grieving window may only last a few weeks (and that's counting the time he spent fucking both of us, so I'm being generous) but at least I'm ready to start the process. Acceptance is step 1, and accepting that he chose to be dead to me to be with someone else is brutal, but it's the way it is and I'm finally done seeking attempts to reassure myself that our connection was real and he still wants to be in each other's life. He wants my money, and the sex (can't blame him there) and that is what I need to remember.

Short term pain is better than drawing it out and feeling like this for any longer - I learned that true cliché (short term pain for long term gain!) the last time I got this emotionally involved with someone that hurt me this badly (many years ago) and for once I'm going to learn from my past mistakes somewhat quicker. It's progress, and that's all I care about. It kills me that I opened up enough to write this in front of him - I even let him read my journal, and what did he do? Yell at me about it. It's one of many moments I look back on now and think "SAMMI YOU KNEW BETTER!" but hey, live and learn. Besides, it's easy enough to block him from reading this (thank you google for that win). I'm not egotistical enough to think he cares enough to remember to navigate here and check if I've written anything - I ramble not just because it's how fast my brain goes, but because I don't particularly want anyone to be interested enough to read everything I say. Maybe someday, but for now, my future besteseller is my lifeline. Having it to vent to is an adult version of diary and imaginary friend combined, and ya know what? There are far worse coping mechanisms. I will be okay - in fact, I'll be better for it, because once I finally get out of here, get a job, and get my own place again I'll know for sure I did it all on my own, despite one man's attempts at "helping me". I don't even want help from my own father.** That tangent made me realize why I keep falling for lies: THIS is fucking white privilege (I'd be cancelled if anyone actually read this so whatever), the assumed guilt for having good parents and a nice life and letting people make you feel ashamed of what you've worked for because of that. Well not anymore, I've made it this far and don't plan on stopping just because my heart melted for a hot second and I dared to feel more for someone than I ever usually allow. I certainly won't be letting it happen any time soon, but at least I know I still have the capacity for love - it's just a love that's going to take a strong mother-fucker to hold, because I'll never love a pushover but went way too far on the opposite end this time (not that he ever caused me to fear for my safety, other than mentally and I fear for that most of the time anyways - but his ego/trust issues played a HUGE role in our first fight and everything after, he even admitted that. He says I flip a switch, and I do, but it's another classic manipulation technique: hone in on a known insecurity/vulnerability, and put so much emphasis on my bad behavior that I'm too busy trying to change enough to make him love me to realize he's no better than I am.

OKAY, he no longer gets free rent in my head. It hurts, but I will not shed another tear over the loss of someone who wasn't willing to love me long enough to get through this long-ass 3 years & counting tunnel. I will walk out with Maige by my side, and be a better person for having accepted the pain rather than settling for scraps of attention for false hope of a fake love (HAH, who knew the song 'my action somewhat inspired' would turn out so accurate? I fully stand by the fact that when people say something as if it's a pre-determined truth like "you're going to leave me for someone else" or "I'm just an FBV for you" they are planting that seed in the person's mind despite their attempt to be placated and recieve assurances that they're wrong. NEWSFLASH: If you don't want it to be what happens, don't put it into the universe.

Alright Sammi enough, off the soap box. It's only 11:19PM, I can be done within an hour and say goodnight and goodbye to the horrible month that has been July. And, to make it final, goodbye to the shot I had at love: I know that what's meant to be will be, and someday this will all make sense. Hahhh such a cliche, per usual, but if I don't laugh I'll cry and I'll be damned if I waste another second crying over someone who owes me money while living with someone else - thank god I have some semblance of shame left to dust my pride off and remember my priorities. I guess I'll have to be careful in terms of my ego vs. being proud of my life/each day: my ego is the asshole that wants what it can't have, goes into reptilian mode, and essentially what I've been trying to fight by being raw and vulnerable here. Being proud about each day is about learning to love the person I am based on the things I do, and winning someone back just for the sake of not being alone is something my EGO wants, not something that will make me proud. Mic drop, out.

To do: make ProPet Content into an absolute powerhouse instead of letting it drown me in sad memories.

**who would and has helped in a heartbeat, love my dad- and I actually do want to stay in Florida for a few weeks so I realize that if not for having such generous parents I'd be WAY worse off. The day my mom accepts $800 from an unemployed 32 year old that HER SON broke the heart of will be a cold day in hell. She wouldn't take it from anyone because she's that type of person - which is why I am the way I am, for better or worse. More likely to get scammed? Yes. Less of a greedy piece of shit than people who's parents don't prioritize their children? Yep. It's like I can't blame him for not putting his daughter first, because I see why he thinks that's normal... and as sad as that makes me, that's not someone I need to continue arguing about my life choices with, never mind considering having our own children with. DoDgEd A bUlLeT. Would life have been easier if I had realized and brought up sooner what a core difference that was between how we were raised, or is that something that is crossing a line in terms of talking about people's family? Idk, it sounds like I'm judging, but I the facts are pretty black and white so unless I'm supposed to pretend to understand what it's like to have a mother that wouldn't save my ass 100 times over (even to my own detriment...) then maybe we would have come to an understanding a lot sooner. I'll never know, and I can live with that.

*Hard work, even if a lot of days that just meant a lot of kindle books being read - I've tried to think of a way to relate living sober to a non-addict (obviously it's been tried many times before, and in most ways I think it's like depression: someone can't ever get it unless it happens to them) and the closest I've found is in a book where the protagonist is a woman with her PhD in psychology, psychiatry, and forensic science. She's also a sociopath who has to actively work not to kill anyone. She spends her whole life terrified that she killed her own aunt at age 8 and is fascinated by blood/violence, doesn't feel fear like 'normal' people, doesn't need affection/companionship (yeah sociopathy doesn't sound so bad right?) but her partner points out that instead of being ashamed by the fact she wants to kill a lot of people, she should be proud that despite her faulty wiring she never does. In a lot of ways being an addict is just slowly killing yourself, so while an entirely different beast than murder that concept made a lot of sense to me. So if my girl Gretchen (I can't remember the author, I'll find it and link it here on whichever day future me decides to finally search through all these posts for the word "link" and add all the correlating ones in) can change the way she thinks, so can I. Reading books and hiding away from society isn't the answer, but it's certainly better than clinging to someone that chose someone else.