Pieces Of Myself

I haven’t had a chance to really deal with the past 4 years of my life. It’s been one thing after another. Now that my personal life has mostly slowed down (besides dealing with the fallout from Covid that so many are struggling with now) everything is crashing up against me, wave after tumultuous wave of…emotions.

I’ve avoided writing prolifically on this new blog because I knew that it would open up a portal to all of the things that I’ve been trying to ignore for so long. Living in survival mode has a few benefits; feeling numb is one of them and a personal favorite.

The numbness. It’s both a curse and a blessing. It’s been like a layer of protection and I’m grateful for it. I’d probably even welcome it fully back with open arms. It’s not completely gone. It is, however, starting to peel away. I’m sweeping it all up. I touch the chips gingerly, licking the fallen pieces off from my fingers.

It tastes like sorrow and despair.

I had to tell my boyfriend yesterday that I needed a break from being in a serious relationship. I need some time and space to figure out what I need to do to become somewhat whole again. The expectations are too heavy for me to carry right now. Obviously, he isn’t too happy. It cannot be helped. If he chooses to stay agreeable and respect the fact that right now I can’t give much of myself to anyone, then once I’ve done some much needed repairs to my psyche, we can reevaluate the relationship.

It’s not exactly “breaking up” as much as my desperate need to walk this painful journey solo, without the extra added burden of putting my all into someone else.

Just doing the basics each day depletes me of my energy, both mentally and physically. I need to focus, for the first time, on making myself my main priority.

I need to reassemble the leftover pieces of myself, if it’s possible.

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