Anniversary
I think it's official; I hate Valentine's Day.
Not only am I assaulted by store displays of overly cutesy and useless stuffed animals, sappy cards, and tacky chocolates; not only am I haunted by years of dissapointment made better only by family dinners and trinkets from my mother; not only have I built up defenses against being let down to the point where I simply go out and buy things for myself because I don't ever believe anyone would have the wherewithal to get me anything that I would like (although I've been proven wrong on occasion)...I've had a fucking breakdown for three years running now.
Last year and the year before I was given a few days' grace where I could go out and enjoy the spoils of war. I rather enjoy plundering the sales on chocolate and roses the day after, capitalizing on the overstocking created by the business sense to keep the aisles full to ensure consumer confidence.
I'm sure most everyone knows the stories. The breakup two years ago that shattered my psyche where I later had to endure a traditional Valentine's Day dinner with my family that I couldn't stop crying at. (I got over it soon enough to begin my new and bitter tradition though.) The breakdown that I had a few days after my triumphant return from the hunt last year that finally caused me to snap, quit my shitty job, and run away to the mountains to clear my head. I've told these stories to my therapist, who understands completely the pattern and calls it an anniversary. "We'd better watch out for February then," she said. I have to wonder if she planned it on purpose that my next appointment with her is on Valentine's Day.
So this year I develop a fucking headache. Two days running I have it. These are usually the sign that something is upsetting me and I'm not conscious of what it is, but I couldn't for the life of me figure it out. I love my job, the wonderful boy in my life couldn't be upsetting me in the least, life's been pretty fucking good. It didn't even occur to me that I'd have an "anniversary" this year. WTF?
Only I'm at Target last night with tokalla, and he starts telling me things that have to do with how much he adores his daughter. And rightly so. He and onivixen make awesome parents. But stupid me with my stupid issues. I suddenly remember something from my own childhood involving my father (who could almost be a polar opposite to tokalla's parenting style) and *snap*. I'm looking intently at the floor trying very hard not to start sobbing in the checkout lane.
I should have told him in the car and just let the waterworks flow, but no. No, I had to decide that I didn't feel like talking about it. So later we get into an argument over this stupid video that someone made to show off the dancing in WoW, and I hate arguing with anyone but my dad. I'm used to it with him because yelling at each other feels normal. Plus I'm sure onivixen was not very appreciative of waking up the baby. (And I'm also sure that the baby didn't like it either.)
I decide to rush out the door, close to tears over the fact that I just took my best friend to the point of actually yelling at me, and I realize that I've really just been upset in general and I can't even explain why. Apologies are made, and I simply can't handle the possibility of having a breakdown in neither the apartment nor the stairwell. So I sit in my car and I can't stop crying enough to drive for a good five minutes. Part of me doesn't understand why I'm crying, and part of me is overwhelmed by years of being broken-hearted, let down, and suffering the feeling that no man will ever love me, especially my father (although I've been working through these issues fairly well so far). I still broke into tears several times on the way home.
And then from out of nowhere it started snowing heavily. It felt so surreal. And The Cure came on the radio. It was Lullaby, which didn't really echo my mood much, but it seemed to fit. So I sat in my car, watched the snowflakes fall, and listened.
***
I felt like hell when I woke up this morning, considered the possibility of having chocolate cake for breakfast, decided I wasn't hungry, and even now can't stop bursting into tears every now and then. And of course my headache went away.
I'd like to be all pissy and grumble about how this better not last through Thursday. I'd like to be optimistic and say that since writing this I feel better (and maybe I really do). But it's hard to fight the urge to be alone and sniveling and miserable. The overcast sky helps, and it's just easier to continue to feel like hell. Even if I know there's life after February.
I fucking hate Valentine's Day.
Not only am I assaulted by store displays of overly cutesy and useless stuffed animals, sappy cards, and tacky chocolates; not only am I haunted by years of dissapointment made better only by family dinners and trinkets from my mother; not only have I built up defenses against being let down to the point where I simply go out and buy things for myself because I don't ever believe anyone would have the wherewithal to get me anything that I would like (although I've been proven wrong on occasion)...I've had a fucking breakdown for three years running now.
Last year and the year before I was given a few days' grace where I could go out and enjoy the spoils of war. I rather enjoy plundering the sales on chocolate and roses the day after, capitalizing on the overstocking created by the business sense to keep the aisles full to ensure consumer confidence.
I'm sure most everyone knows the stories. The breakup two years ago that shattered my psyche where I later had to endure a traditional Valentine's Day dinner with my family that I couldn't stop crying at. (I got over it soon enough to begin my new and bitter tradition though.) The breakdown that I had a few days after my triumphant return from the hunt last year that finally caused me to snap, quit my shitty job, and run away to the mountains to clear my head. I've told these stories to my therapist, who understands completely the pattern and calls it an anniversary. "We'd better watch out for February then," she said. I have to wonder if she planned it on purpose that my next appointment with her is on Valentine's Day.
So this year I develop a fucking headache. Two days running I have it. These are usually the sign that something is upsetting me and I'm not conscious of what it is, but I couldn't for the life of me figure it out. I love my job, the wonderful boy in my life couldn't be upsetting me in the least, life's been pretty fucking good. It didn't even occur to me that I'd have an "anniversary" this year. WTF?
Only I'm at Target last night with tokalla, and he starts telling me things that have to do with how much he adores his daughter. And rightly so. He and onivixen make awesome parents. But stupid me with my stupid issues. I suddenly remember something from my own childhood involving my father (who could almost be a polar opposite to tokalla's parenting style) and *snap*. I'm looking intently at the floor trying very hard not to start sobbing in the checkout lane.
I should have told him in the car and just let the waterworks flow, but no. No, I had to decide that I didn't feel like talking about it. So later we get into an argument over this stupid video that someone made to show off the dancing in WoW, and I hate arguing with anyone but my dad. I'm used to it with him because yelling at each other feels normal. Plus I'm sure onivixen was not very appreciative of waking up the baby. (And I'm also sure that the baby didn't like it either.)
I decide to rush out the door, close to tears over the fact that I just took my best friend to the point of actually yelling at me, and I realize that I've really just been upset in general and I can't even explain why. Apologies are made, and I simply can't handle the possibility of having a breakdown in neither the apartment nor the stairwell. So I sit in my car and I can't stop crying enough to drive for a good five minutes. Part of me doesn't understand why I'm crying, and part of me is overwhelmed by years of being broken-hearted, let down, and suffering the feeling that no man will ever love me, especially my father (although I've been working through these issues fairly well so far). I still broke into tears several times on the way home.
And then from out of nowhere it started snowing heavily. It felt so surreal. And The Cure came on the radio. It was Lullaby, which didn't really echo my mood much, but it seemed to fit. So I sat in my car, watched the snowflakes fall, and listened.
***
I felt like hell when I woke up this morning, considered the possibility of having chocolate cake for breakfast, decided I wasn't hungry, and even now can't stop bursting into tears every now and then. And of course my headache went away.
I'd like to be all pissy and grumble about how this better not last through Thursday. I'd like to be optimistic and say that since writing this I feel better (and maybe I really do). But it's hard to fight the urge to be alone and sniveling and miserable. The overcast sky helps, and it's just easier to continue to feel like hell. Even if I know there's life after February.
I fucking hate Valentine's Day.