Still very sad now working towards pretty angry...

at myself. But making progress.

Signed up for therapy (just for me). Initial session over the phone was refreshing. I feel better about myself already.

Learned a lot about control...and power in a relationship. Realized that no matter what I've said in the past few months it was his M.O. to criticize or pick it apart for its hidden meaning. (A la the toilet paper conversation was about not believing in him...) I could not have won in that situation - there was nothing, nothing I was going to say or do that was going to be right. And the harder I tried, the worse it got. Learned behaviour over time. And instead of getting mad, or standing up for myself, I just got more pathetic, and unhappy, and repressed, and scared to lose him.

So now I am mad at myself for this.

I have talked about it with friends. And the advice from two guy friends was particularly enlightening: "Oh he did the whole power thing on you b/c he was either scared of commitment or not that into you..." I didn't know what was meant by this - so there was elaboration needed on "the power thing":

He's not happy - with himself or you or both and/or he feels pressured.
He picks at you. He criticizes. In small ways at first, so you don't pick up on it. You roll with it.
It is his way of keeping power, especially in the face of commitment.
This begins to work on your self esteem.
He picks and criticizes more. The more you try, the worse it becomes.
Neither of you is patient.
Your self esteem is now in the dumps.
You're both bickering and needling each other. It becomes constant.
You as a gf (and the relationship in general) have become no fun - so he breaks up with you.

Both guys admitting to doing this in several relationships. They said it made it easier to break away - they used it when they were commitment phobes in their 20s and not so comfortable in their own skin (their words not mine). They admitted that didn't even realizing they were doing til later - years later - when they could look back on it.

Both my friends said: does this sound at all familiar? Have we hit on some of it? Is he 28?

Indeed. Except for that last part on age.

And honestly - this knowledge did two things:

1. Made me feel better. I didn't really understand how I had gone from a fairly self confident girl (granted - a small chip on my shoulder from the fiancee cheating on me bit last spring) a year ago this week to a scared, hen pecking, low self-esteem ninny he sees now. No wonder it didn't work out. I didn't like who I was, and I didn't have the balls anymore to tell him I didn't like who he was either. I was picking back at him constantly b/c I knew no other way.
2. Made me angry. At myself. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I stand up sooner? Why was I so blind? Why, in the spirit of being so in love with him, of feeling so lucky to have him in my life, did I evolve into this person I don't recognize? This is a good anger. A cleansing anger. Anger at myself. A feeling that seems to be giving me strength to get back to me. ME.

Being out last night - and where were you Bad Idea Gnome cuz I could have used you?!-made me realize who I am. Really who I am. I was me again. I am not that girl I was with him. People like to talk to me, and listen, and they don't interrupt to criticize or tell me how I could word it better. (And these aren't all shiny new people. Some of these people I have known for 12 years. ) People like how I dance - and I like dancing again. I'm not Madonna or Christina but I am still pretty good at it whether I go fast or half time. I wasn't self- conscious. I was happy and confident and I looked great. I am a good mother, a really good mother, who is trying her damndest and, for the most part, succeeding - and my conversations last night among fairly self-actualized adults reflected this and reflected back their belief in me. In some cases I was the hottest girl in the bar and in some cases I wasn't even close and I did not care either way. And the people talking to me didn't care. And they didn't stare at other people. They looked around, but the focus was on our group. Or whoever was talking. Or, from time to time, me. And that felt really good.

I had fun.

There was a time, a while ago, when I did have fun with him. I remember it. And the fun was the best fun I have ever had. Maybe ever will. He had amazing lust for life. But over time, there's been no fun. There's been alot of criticism. And being out with him, those words of criticism would stay in my head. And I wasn't even close to being the best I could be.

I felt good about myself and the people I spent time with last night made me feel even better about me. They were confident enough in themselves that they didn't need to tear me down.

I had forgotten all of this.


So more news:

There is a huge party in London for my friend N's birthday. N is the girl who got married in Vegas. The huge party is a reunion of everyone from the wedding/hen and stag night parties in Vegas (over a year ago - wow) , and I've been offered a place to stay in a swanky hotel and the promise of much fun from Yorkshire Hottie. Remember him. ("Hellllo gorgeous! I am ringing you on your mobile whilst waiting to leave for Prague...") Check the archives. Wow did he and N come through in a big way yesterday. This made my day.

And...three guy friends from here are going to London and Barcelona for two weeks in November - the week before and the week of Thanksgiving - and the invitation was extended to me as well. As I was facing Thanksgiving alone this year, this seems like the right thing to do. Cannot swing two weeks, but can certainly do 8-9 days in Barcelona. There are worse places to be than Barcelona for Thanksgiving. So wow did my local friends come through too. I am lucky to know these people.

(God I dread the holidays. The pity party at work was bad enough this week..."So sorry. You must be devastated...blah blah blah" but the holidays are going to be simply dreadful. I digress.)

So which do I do ladies? I have to commit to tickets soon. I cannot do both...just not possible. Barcelona with the guy friends I think is the way to go.

Each hour that passes this gets easier. But there are moments. Like when I heard Five for Fighting's "100 years" last night on the way to a party - that song was my "daydream about the future" song, a song that I imagined I would dance with him to at our own wedding. I was almost in tears. Or the moment when I passed by the street I used to turn off to go to his house. And this coming Friday will be horrible - as it was going to be our one year anniversary had we made it.

But I'm stronger - just in talking to the therapist and spending time out with friends - and I'm going to be fine. Even walking around with a severely broken heart, I can be happy about me, and my life. Therapy is going to help - really, how can it hurt? Therapy is like jello, there's always room for it. My friends are keeping me busy and calling, and that helps more than I ever realized it would. I missed some of them, and am glad to have them back and am not too proud to lean on them a bit. Rock Star and Gal Pal have been sooooo good, as has G - who has kindly babysat me for the last 24 hours.