This picture was taken last week, shortly after we reached the top of Cadair Idris and I cried. Tears of sadness and release. My sister in law was respectful about it and kept it to herself.
I haven’t posted in a while as I was out and about for most of my trip in Snowdonia. I went with my brother and his wife with a friend tagging along as well for a couple of days. We stayed in a gorgeous cottage on the coast of South Snowdonia.
The trip was a success. The weather was gorgeous, I climbed the biggest mountains, explored forests, ate yummy food and even managed to squeeze in some mountain biking. I was impressed by my sister in law who was able to keep up with me and my shenanigans for the majority of the trip.
I smoked weed on one of the nights and it reminded me why I don’t smoke anymore. It was nice and relaxing to begin with but then I just felt tired and hazy and it felt like it didn’t wear off for a few days. It makes my ADHD worse thats for sure – definately not worth it. I wont be touching it again any time soon.
I got back home last night. I unpacked, went food shopping and re-organised my life.
Today I am sore, tired and I look like I have been hit by a bus.
I am going rock climbing with my friend this morning, and then I have a couple of dates lined up over the weekend.
I shouldn’t go on the dates because I promised myself that I would use this weekend to build the Ikea furniture (to replace what my ex smashed up).
On Monday I have a 2-day training course and then I have to go back to work on Wednesday.
This is my home for the next week, a gorgeous little cottage in a coastal village in Snowdonia National Park, Wales. I took this picture as soon as we arrived on Friday – I tried to write an update but I was too tired from driving.
Yesterday I climbed the famous Mount Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales. I have wanted to climb it for years but never got round to it. I should feel proud of myself as it is the biggest mountain in Wales at over 1000m but I don’t really.
Truth be told, I feel really shit about myself. I feel so fat and ugly right now that the whole time I was climbing the mountain, I was cursing and punishing myself. I was so hungry at times but I only allowed myself some fruit and the water.
This morning I woke up feeling a little bit of sadness and I think it is because my ex was supposed to be on this holiday with us. I caught myself wondering if he would’ve liked the bedroom and if the bed was comfortable enough for him so he could get a good nights sleep and wake up feeling refreshed. There’s a part of me that really misses him. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad he isn’t here because the trip would have been utterly stressful and exhausting.
My therapist told me that I am grieving still, which makes sense – but still a total headfuck. Right now in this moment I have 100 reasons to be really, really happy but I am not.
My life is much easier now. I have more freedom and I don’t have to worry about doing or saying the wrong thing. No-one is going to get upset or pissed off with me.
I look around me and I everything I see is beautiful. The cottage is surrounded by plush gardens and just stones throw away from the sea.
It’s Easter Sunday, I woke up to birdsong and pancakes on the table for breakfast. My brother and sister in law are lovely, gentle and kind and they make me feel loved. Also a couple of my friends will be joining us later on in the week.
I have nothing to worry about.
I should be happy.
This week was supposed to be an esape for me but instead I have come face to face with the reality that:
I am full of self loathing and I hate my appearance
I am still greiving about the end of the relationship.
What if this week can be about purging and cleansing myself of all the shit? I wish.
Anyways, today is going to be another hot day. I am going to sign off now – get my hiking kit on and venture out to do another mountain, a big one.
All I can think to do now is climb and climb until eventually, the pain in my legs is greater than the pain in my heart.
I took a pregnancy test this morning and thankfully, the result was negative. Last night before bed I noticed that my tummy was really bloated and rock solid. I started worrying I was pregnant and ended up having horrible nightmares that his baby was growing inside me and I was trapped and alone, unable to decide what to do.
The problem I am having is that my period is late and the last two have have been abnormally light, like nearly non-existent. I am really bloated, tired, tearful and constantly craving sweet things. I do not have much of a sweet tooth and this is not how I normally experience PMS.
I know that I am paranoid and that I’m not in my right might at the moment.
I know that my paranoia is completely irrational because I am on the pill. Ironically, he is the reason I am on the pill. He pressured me to start taking it. I explained to him that the pill doesn’t agree with me and I really didn’t like messing with my hormones, but he was having none of it.
Apparently, orgasms hurt when wearing a condom so I gave in.
It has been just over two months since the police removed him from my house so I am wondering if the stress and PTSD is not only affecting my reasoning but also my menstrual cycle? I don’t think it is the pill because I started taking it in December. I don’t know…I mean, I don’t want to stop the pill now and mess up my hormones again.
I need to sort out my anxiety.
I am catastrophising and hyper vigilant at the moment which explains the nightmares and poor quality of sleep.
I need to sleep more.
I just really need my body (and brain) to start behaving itself.
I am taking my brother and sister-in-law on holiday and I am trying really hard to make it special and for everyone to have a nice time. I know I am putting pressure on myself but this is something that needs to happen because my last holiday with him was traumatic.
I need to get better and I need to make new holiday memories, happy memories.
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?
My counselling session on Friday was a very difficult one.
I’ve reaslised that I have become extremely hyper vigilant around men. I explained to my therapist how how the subtle displays of aggression from men leaves me feeling anxious and paranoid. They advised that I am experiencing the effects of trauma and it can come and go like waves.
I have been really out of sorts and I feel like I am unraveling. Intrusive thoughts, anxiety and bouts of depression. Some days are okay. Work and gaming are useful distractions. But then some days I am completely disoriented or crying like the drop of a hat.
I was with my brother and his wife this weekend. We went to see the new Dumbo movie which was my favourite Disney cartoon when I was a child. I pretty much cried from start to finish. My sister in law was like, “I don’t understand why you were crying all the time”. It was her birthday and I was really struggling to keep my shit together.
I must have been terrible company. I only had one bottle of Corona, hardly touched my pizza, cried for approx 180 mins and walked out of the cinema with mascara and eyeliner all over my face. I didn’t even realise how bad I looked until we arrived back at my brothers house and I was handed a baby wipe so I could clean up.
I thought about him a lot during my drive back home – nothing in particular, just random memories rushing through my mind. At one point I did think about how I would spoon him and fall asleep (I was the big spoon), and then my mind wandered to the night he smashed my bedroom furniture. That was last year, the 16th of December. I know the date because recorded that incident.
The recording of the 11th of January is a from another incident. I think that was the time he smashed my TV and went AWOL for a week. I am not sure – I can’t remember exactly, I don’t want to listen to it.
On my drive home, I wondered if I would ever have the courage to listen to the recordings again. I thought about what it would be like to publish his emails and the recordings online and to disclose his identity so that his blog readership could see that he was a danger to women. But no, I wouldn’t dare do that.
I then thought about all the ways he can get revenge on me. He made it very clear to me that he gets revenge on if anyone who fucks with him.
If he wanted to hurt me himself, the easiest thing he could do would be to hack me. He even gloats about it on his blog, claiming that it would be very hard for him to resist doing this to anyone who pisses him off. It’s worth mentioning that he wrote that blog post the same week that the police removed him from my life. But he didn’t have to warn me off – he had already secured my silence before writing that post. I had already told the police that I was too scared to charge him because of what he might do.
He could do a lot worse than hack me.
He joked a couple of times about setting my car on fire if we broke up. He buys his drugs from the dark web and one evening he showed me this “services” area where you can pay for people to do bad things for you.
He made a big deal about all the ways which earning lots of money is advantageous due to the power it would give him specifically.
We were watching the American Crime series about the OJ trial and he said: “This is why I am going to be rich baby.Money buys you good lawers…you can get away with anything”.
He isn’t OJ-rich at the moment but he does earn a lot of money and has a pattern of spending it impulsively on whatever he wants in the moment.
I will keep my mouth shut.
I wish I could stop thinking about him…erase everything from my mind.