Olga Wolstenholme's picture

It’s Love I’m After

I’ve been sad for days, weeks, months, years it seems. I recently stopped taking the antidepressants that I had started taking in the midst of my last relationship when I felt like the combined stress of dealing with school and my exploding feelings of love might just kill me. When the relationship ended my doctor upped my anti-depressant and then when I just wouldn’t let go no matter how much of a mind fuck this whole situation was he upped them again and then when I wanted to kill myself, because I just couldn’t deal with how much pain I was in I started a second kind of anti-depressants and on and on it went for two plus years. And now, I’m no longer taking meds, but I also feel like a basket case, or you know, a very sad person.

I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the line my self worth became intrinsically linked with what this one person thought of me or more to the point, how he treated me. He became the personification of the little voice in my head that constantly repeats “he doesn’t give a shit, he doesn’t give a shit, no one gives a shit, I’m a piece of shit”. And that’s precisely how I feel right now and have been feeling for quite some time to some extent or another.

I’m angry and I’m sad. I’m angry at him. Right now I hate his guts and would tell him so if it would change anything. But it doesn’t. I’m angry at him, but mostly, I’m angry at myself for letting all of this happen, for wanting him or that relationship or whatever so much that I thought it better to endure a certain amount of pain as a constant. As a compromise. I’m angry at myself for not caring about myself enough, for not having enough self-respect to stop any of this before it became what it has become today. I never should have let this relationship happen, especially when it was so clearly self-destructive.

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