"People" have been awful to me.
I am not an awful person.
Something about having someone encourage you to kill yourself- to feel so honored that you would do that for them- makes you hate yourself. I have hated myself everyday since I woke up on a hospital stretcher with my tearful father holding my hand... How could I have been so manipulated and conned? How could I have cared for someone who was just an enormous piece of ingested shit that was shitted out again? How could I have let myself be punched and insulted and dragged and pushed and completely demeaned and embarrassed in every sense of the word? HOW!!! HOW could I have allowed a the person who fueled and manipulated all of this to enter my life once again. How did I not see how manipulative both of them were? How?
Because I believed I deserved it.
I have believed that I am a failure since I nearly gave up my life for something that had always been a fantasy. I became everything people who wanted to see me fail in life thought I would become all the while swearing otherwise. In the last year and... three months I have learned and worked through so much. This is the final phase... Reclaiming my life.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Who the fuck is this mopey ass bitch and why the fuck has she been sabotaging my life?!" is a sentence I have been yelling at myself over and over again today. I've been losing weight, I've actually been able to lose a substantial amount of weight in the last few weeks. I owe Anthony for pulling me out of... well, myself. I feel that it is unfortunate that it took him to do it and not myself but it still served as the motivation I needed. I could gush about the kid for hours...But honestly I have sucked this past year. I'm an amazing girlfriend, hands down, I treat that man like the prince he is but I have not exactly been a fairy tale to deal with. After all this he still wants to marry me. Honestly if we don't get married, if we fall apart or just don't work out, the gesture alone was meaningful and helped me realize that I sucked as a person. I was constantly depressed, over weight, unmotivated and generally just a shell of the person I once was and yet... he still loved me and sees me for who I am, who I really am! Under the weight and sadness and self inflicted torment. He sees my potential. He understands and accepts my tortured soul routine but would say to me constantly, "I wish you would see your life as it is, not what you think it is. I don't like when you cry... I really just want you to be happy." It would be gentle sentences said to me as I sobbed into my pillow like a toddler or lay affectlessly on the couch. I wasn't actively trying to end my life but I was passively letting it pass me by.
His love was yet another one of life's bitch slaps. It took him a long time to love me. Let's face it,I didn't even love myself, but when he got to that point to say that one word... (Flash back! to the moment Anthony told me he loved me... It was night time in Puerto Rico and we were lying in the gloriousness of a four and a half star bed, the moonlight was bursting through the sheer white drapes that suited the tropical local perfectly. Both of us drunk on our own love and the beauty of our surroundings laid quietly holding each other. By this point sometimes I would let those three little words slip out but since they weren't recipricated I maintained them to a minimum. I started chatting away about how grateful I was to share this awesome experience with him. "moosh moosh moosh" I was saying. There was a long pause and he inhales deeply and then says, "Love..." and proceeds to squeeze every ounce of air out of me and say "love, love, love, love, love" over and over again. It took him a couple of days to say all three words "I, love, and you" together. So he only said one word the first time he told me he loved me.) Like I was saying... When he got to the point to say that one word, you best believe I was bathed in love. Anthony is a very logical an rational person. Love for him had to follow some type of equation or mathmatical algorithm or something. He held back until his feelings overflowed what the "right amount of love" was. It honestly made it that much more meaningful. Anyway... He has loved me with his whole heart and when he said marriage is something he sees for us...
I woke up.
It was like I had died on my 23rd birthday and a sad ghost of myself was trying to keep going, to keep living. But like a ghost I was tied to my old life by invisible tethers called regret and shame which would keep pulling me back every time I tried to move on. Truth is... I wouldn't marry me right now. I am not the person I wanted to be. This is not the person I am. When Anthony pseudo-proposed I realized I have so much work to do to make myself worth marrying. I love Anthony so much. I feel like we work perfectly with each other. I couldn't ask for a better partner to have for the rest of my life. But he deserves better than what I have been giving him. Sure, I love him with my whole heart but I don't love me with my whole heart. He deserves the best and that includes me at my best.
So I found my voice again and my voice is saying, "Get the fuck out of New Jersey!" I think it's what Anthony and I both need. So hopefully this time next year I will be living with Anthony in an apartment somewhere completely different than here. I really really don't want to be a townie. I've come to hate everything familiar. Maybe one day I'll come back with my tail between my legs and raise my kids in Jersey but it seriously will not be without living in a few cities and seeing some of the world. I am so pumped!... and completely terrified. This is something that I need to do. I envisioned myself posh and successful... I'm not going to make that happen in Central Jersey... I hate it here too much. :)