Tuesday...

It happened on a random Tuesday at the end of July. I woke up, eyes scanning my clock through blurry vision and thought “I have to leave. Now. I have to end this relationship.” I turned over on my back and stared at the ceiling investigating this feeling. “No. I’m being irrational.” I argue. I turn my head and let my eyes wander over Jeff’s sleeping face. “I’m not leaving.” I sigh and get out of bed.
For the past two weeks I’ve been completely insane. I’ve eaten myself into a frenzy, lost all interest in the gym and running, and have barely been able to fake a smile at work. Writing has also taken a back seat. I’ve fantasized about escaping. I immerse myself in lengthy day dreams of jumping ship, disappearing and starting over someplace out west like Seattle or even San Francisco. I imagine being tucked away in a tiny apartment, writing or making jewelry for a living. I imagine trolling around Europe’s winding cobblestone streets visiting coffee shop after coffee shop spending hours people watching and writing. The dream then switches to being in an open field of grass in Oak Park underneath a blue sky watching the white fluffy clouds pass me by.
Instead though I don’t acknowledge that I’m feeling anything. I bury all of this underneath muffins, cookies, “I’m fine’s” and “everything’s great’s”. I won’t let anyone in because I can’t even let myself in. I feel this mounting pressure sitting on my shoulders and I can’t get out from underneath it. It’s weight is moving into my lungs and constricting them to a point where I feel I can barely breathe.
“How are you?” Dr. M. asks as I follow her back to her office. It’s been a month since our last visit.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I’m not doing well.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.” she says as we sit opposite each other at her large desk. She’s introduced me to Dr. N. who will be replacing Dr. M. next month when she moves to Pennsylvania.
“I’m not sure. I’m eating way too much, work feels very strenuous and I’m just not sure about things with Jeff. I don’t know what to do.”
I feel I’m forcing myself to talk. I don’t want to. I just want to sleep…
Dr. M. listens and asks a few questions before going over some test results. She gives me another vitamin B12 shot. We discuss the plan for the next visit with Dr. N. and I leave.
A few weeks ago one of my co-workers was talking about her amazing therapist. This sparked various memories of conversations I’ve with other co-workers, friends and people from OA during my time here in Chicago about my possibly needing to go see one. I love Karen, but she’s in Atlanta. The phone works of course but I’d rather see someone face to face. I make an appointment to see Beth in Lakeview on August 2. I have no idea where to go with this, but I feel like I’m going in some direction and that feels ok for now.
Saturday rolls around and I feel I’m fit for a straightjacket. I can’t shake this feeling of needing to leave Jeff. I’ve abandoned my life yet again for a relationship. Nothing interests me anymore and I don’t know how to find the balance so, I want to run. I want to do away with the stressor that I can barely look at because I don’t want to see it. I go over in my mind what this will look like. I leave Jeff and then what? I can calm down and can breathe again which is all fine and good but what happens when someone else rolls around? I have a pattern and a habit here. Maybe I’ll be in a better place next time. Maybe I need to learn how to deal with it right now. Maybe I should tell Jeff. Maybe I should just leave because I don’t want to think about any of it. I miss myself.
I’m outside on my lunch break at the Unicorn with a mocha staring up at the sky mentally asking God for help.
“Tell me what to do. I have no idea. I can’t see anything except I am miserable and driving myself insane.”
Back at work, one of my favorite clients Breanne comes in. After hugs and squealing she asks what’s going on and if I’m still with Jeff as I shampoo her hair.
“Well…” I trail off. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure I can do this. I need to be alone. I need to figure some shit out and I feel I can’t do it while in a relationship. I feel stuck.”
“I suggest you tell him… now.” her face darkens. “That just happened to me. My boyfriend just out of the blue told me last week that he needed some time and space to himself. Tell. Jeff.”
Done and done. I guess that was all I needed because as I left work, I knew I was going to have to tell him as soon as humanly possible. I’ve felt dishonest the whole week walking around with this, wanting and pretending everything was ok. I feel he deserves so much more than me. I wish this could work. I want it to work but can’t see any way around it right now. Maybe in five years…
Jeff is working late. Then he get’s stuck really late. I remain awake though and when he arrives all smiles and smelling like coffee, I can barely look him in the face. We talk about work before he says “You wanted to chat?”
I nod in response. I texted him earlier saying I still wanted to see him even though he was getting out so late. I can’t find words. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’m making a huge mistake or not. I do know that if I don’t take some time and be alone, then I’m going to explode into a million little pieces. If I am making a huge mistake I trust that God will have something else up his sleeve for me and if this isn’t a mistake then something else entirely different will happen.
Quietly I explain my growing depression, the fact that my hands won’t heal, my craziness surrounding my food and not being able to work like I want because it feels excruciating.
“I…don’t think I can be in a relationship.”
We’re holding hands, my fingers tracing his veins, his fingers going limp.
“Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
The rest of the night is filled with who’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s before he decides that he’s going home. It’s well after 2am before I finally give into sleep.