I wanted to jump to my death

Towards the end of the relationship I had thoughts about killing myself. This was the first time in over a decade that something like this had crossed my mind.

My brother and his wife asked me to organise a 7 day trip for the four of us to stay in a cottage, somewhere rugged and beautiful.

As I sifted through the hundreds of properties on AirBnB, some of them had some pictures of the surrounding landscape so I could visualise the experience. The property we went for is coastal and the listing included gorgeous pictures of the nearby beaches and cliffs.

I started imagining the inevitable that either one of us, myself or my brother or his wife would end up pushing his buttons and the trip would turn sour. I imagined a scenario whereby after an awkward confrontation, he and I would have to go outside for a “time out”. We find ourselves walking along one of the nearby cliff edges. My thoughts then moved on to the tears and feelings of despair that he’s upset my family and there would be no way of reconciling. I imagined how I would feel if this happened. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself so there was no option other than for me to die so I jumped off the cliff.

I was suddenly fantasizing about suicide which absolutely terrified me. I told him about it – not fully – just the jumping part.

He didn’t bat an eyelid.

At the time, I think I told myself that perhaps he thought I was lying or something…I don’t know. When I think about it now, about his blank stare, I try to remember if there was ever a time he showed any kind of genuine regard or concern for me. I tried to remember any relevant facial expressions, body language or words. I am finding it difficult, he rarely ever made eye contact with me.

I always ached for him to look into my eyes so I could see that he loved me but he wouldn’t.

I do however remember some actions that showed me he really cared – on a couple of occasions, when I was sick.

There was one time when I was really sick with a nasty nasty cold. I was in so much pain and I started weeping. He immediately stood up, put his shoes on and drove to the shop and returned with a bag full of medication, vitamins and chocolate. I saw the shopping and wept even harder, this time from gratitude. The fact that he did something utterly caring and nurturing for was something I craved so badly and in that moment it was there.

The time before that I was sick with a UTI and he behaved in a similar way. It was when I was at my weakest physically that he really showed up for me. He was tender and he genuinely made me feel protected, looked after, like he really did loved me.

I miss that guy.

Nearly two months on from the breakup and my feelings about him are still so very complex. At night my dreams about him are sweet and loving but during the day the intrusive thoughts run wild with his nasty words, the mindgames, manipulations, his unpredictable outbursts.

My complex feelings are confusing and draining my energy. I’m so tired.

How is it possible that the traumatic events are persistently and uncontrollably playing back in my mind, yet-a big part of me is still deeply in love with him?

Why does that part of me see nothing wrong with letting him tear down my world, until the only thing left for me to do is to take my own life?

Routines make me feel safe

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This morning I was very nearly late for my PT session. I train with my PT on the same days each week at 6am, like clockwork.

I’m autistic and I like routines. Routines make me feel safe.

For a while I stopped my morning routine of getting up about 5/5:30am to train. The reason being was that my ex didn’t want his sleep to be disturbed and so I wasn’t allowed to set my alarm earlier than his.

So I changed my routine to train in the evenings after work – which is absolute carnage. If you are a neuro-typical gym goer then you will understand what it’s like to have to wait for equipment and suchlike. On top of all that hassle, there’s how it affects my Autism. I find it really disconcerting when there’s lots of people in the gym. The noise, the atmosphere – it’s really draining and by the end of it I want to go home and sit in a dark room. My head is thumping and my ears are ringing and my heart feels like it’s going to explode.

Training in the mornings is so lovely. It’s quiet, relaxing and actually, a kind of “escape” from the monotony of life.

Also, waking up and having to go straight to work is somewhat depressing. And I found that having a few hours in the morning for myself, for training and self care really works for me. I gave that up for him-for short time, but long enough for it to have an impact on me.

He has been out of my life for nearly a month and a half, but my body clock is still off. I know this because I really struggled this morning. I set about 10 alarms and I’m pretty sure I slept through most of them. My eyes opened at 5:40, I jumped out of bed, threw some clothes on and jumped in the car – arrived at the gym ready to be beasted by exactly 6am.

I have to say that I was impressed by that myself but couldn’t help notice another thing that is “off” with me at the moment. I noticed how painfully guilty I felt about sleeping through my alarms, letting them ring out.

He is now completely irrelevant yet, I still felt a moment of dread this morning. It was as if he was right there, in my bed with me. I imagined him quietly seething about my lack of consideration and I would have to face the consequences of that.

So yeah theres clearly a fair amount of residual, unhealthy doctrine from the past that I need to let go of. But letting go is going to be hard for me.

After-all, I am autistic and I like routines. Routines make me feel safe.