Wish Dish | Share Your Story

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One Step Forward, 10 Steps Back

Just when you think that you’re doing great. Just when you think you’ve got your life all in order and everything is going to work out fine, the world finds a way to catch up to you and come crashing down.

I was dumped. And given my past relationship record, my friends had really, really good reason to be worried about me. The really, really fun part about borderline personality disorder is the extreme fear of abandonment and the feeling of being unlovable. All of which are a dangerous combo added on top of a break up.

But I played it cool and actually did not contact my ex after a week; a normal task to your average person but to me was a very large feat. All-in-all I stayed silent, just like every Cosmo article had ever told me.

Until Friday night came. I hadn’t been out in a total of 15 days, which, any normal person in Athens would tell you, was downright crazy. My hair looked good; my eyebrows flawless. I was ready to see my ex if only for the moment to say hello so nonchalantly and then carry on with my business. I mean, everyone had advised me to keep my distance, act casual, and pretend that everything was going okay. And my plan was to do just that. Let’s act cool. Let’s act okay.

But was everyone okay? Up to this point I had completely avoided the true feelings of being dumped for the hope that he had made a mistake and would come back. And having a chaotic week made it pretty easy to pretend that nothing had changed at all.

Until I added alcohol into the mix. The second the sweet sweet taste of Strongbow hit my lips, my fingers were just itching to text him. The savory feeling of a drunk text. And I get it- nothing good can come out of any of this. So why not have a drink and see how you’re feeling then?

4 drinks, two bombs, and 2 shots later- here we are. I’m in a bar by myself. My girlfriends gone. Every boy that touches me makes me cringe, and I don’t know how to have a conversation with even the slightest hint of flirtation to it without my skin crawling. The whole night my eyes dart side-to-side looking for him. Hoping for that moment that I can link eyes with him and pretend like all is grand.

But it never comes.

I go home. $20 uber for one. And I change into my t-shirt and boxers and look in my mirror. I look so closely into it and a weird outer voice comes into that mirror and says “it’s okay baby girl. None of this is your fault. You are beautiful. You are kind. This isn’t your fault.” It’s is a fatherly, assertive voice that comes out of me, I don’t believe a word out of it. Despite my own inner voice trying to give me a pep talk, here I am.

I feel lost. I feel scared. And I feel alone. So far alone at 4:30 AM that I’m not sure what to do anymore. After several more drunk texts and a few more conversations in the mirror (all of which are essentially an outer-body-me saying that I actually matter to the world) I grab my box of tissues and I crawl into bed.

The world I tired of me, and I am tired of it. And we have completely exhausted one another for today. It won’t be until morning when the two of us get to wake up and deal with one another again. And that’s just the way that we work for awhile.

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One Step Forward, 10 Steps Back

But I played it cool and actually did not contact my ex after a week; a normal task to your average person but to me was a very large feat. All-in-all I stayed silent, just like every Cosmo article had ever told me.

But it never comes.

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