A-N-D... I'm back.

Mutherfucker, that was a rough one. It's weird. I'm a mass of waste, there's ups and downs but I feel scatter brained and indecisive and totally blah and then a minute later it's like SNAP. And the world is okay again. I cooked lunch, had a shower, did the dishes, actually smiled into the mirror. I just don't get it.

But it's time to get back on track. I think tomorrow I'll tell Joe the 5am thing isn't working and go back to 7-3 Monday to Friday. And go to the gym before work. Yes, for my sanity so much more than my waist line.

Now comes the part where I have to reply to all the calls that I didn't take, apologize for being me. Used to be that I would feel so guilty about making my friends worry. This time I just figured that's the price they have to pay to have a mentally unstable friend. And I'm sorry but when I go through that, I have to think survival above all else.

And so, it looks like we've come to the monster at the end of this book.

It's me!

Silly, but it's a milestone. I have never completed a journal before. Never ever. I would always start fresh and have a new beginning and think everything will be different this time. But I don't want to start fresh again. I want to continue. Finally I can just continue.

On to bigger and better! Congratulations! Pat pat pat!

I'm going to try to get this out while I'm still going through is. Maybe it will help me understand it better. This time it's almost as bad as before the pills. Which, I think, shows the importance of the addition of exercise. It's also strongly tied to my menstrual cycle now. Was it always? I don't know. But these days I have various degrees of breakdown every fourth Monday, Sunday really. It usually isn't this rough or last this long. I need to find a way to go for a walk today. I can't let this control me again.

It's so debilitating. The tears, the frustration, rage-depending on the circumstances, thoughts of hurting myself, worthlessness, I can't concentrate, have a severe case of the "don't wanna"s. Don't wanna read, don't wanna puzzle, don't wanna watch a movie, nothing on tv, can't work, not going online, can't listen to music, not cooking supper, clothes fall where they fall, showers are an ordeal. Even picking up the phone to call work takes an hour of planning and is a struggle. I avoid all of my friends, turn the ringer off on my phone and the world just has to do without me for a day or two.

I just can't cope with the simplest things. Going to the grocery store last night - I desperately needed cake (they didn't have any). Even this.

That's enough for now.

Maybe I'll try to keep going. I have to make sense of this so I can get it under control again. Although I do feel that diagnosis was the best thing for me, it also made it harder. Before I could blame whatever man that was currently in my life or lack of, work problems, family problems, money problems. Fucked up brain problems is a harder pill to swallow.

And no one understands. Maybe Cathy. Debra to a lesser degree. Mental illness, emotional instability, lovely. Julie and Stacey try to understand but how could they? Stacey will say it was the whole Fabian thing this weekend that caused it but it's actually the opposite. The way I reacted was caused by this, a sure sign but I missed it. And it hasn't been this rough in a long time so I guess it's understandable.

I really fucked up with Julie yesterday. I skipped Jenna's birthday party. I couldn't call. I had to leave work because I couldn't stop crying. She left a message on my voicemail yesterday afternoon and I haven't even listened to it yet. In a while I'll send an "I'm alive but it's rough" email and hopefully she'll forgive me. Again.

The funny, or maybe ironic, thing is that no one really believes me. I don't know if believe is the right word but here's this confident, independent, take control, hardworking, straight forward woman and she's a cowering mass of tears? How's that possible? The life of the party, doesn't she smile 24/7? Someone once said to me "don't you ever not smile?" I almost fell to the floor laughing. If she could see me now.

I'm in hell. Hell. I don't even know if I can manage to get anything else out. How is this still happening after all this time? I'm so fat and ugly. And nothing helps. I want to get drunk and stoned and smoke and eat. But nothing will fix this other than time. And just a little time. A day. But, like every month... if I make it!

Omigod! This is sofa-king frustrating! Is this what life is supposed to be like? Fuck! When does all this crap stop?

I don't even want to write about it. I'm so sick of it. I have no control over what he does and what he feels but don't I have control over what I do and what I feel? I guess I just don't know what to do... there's pros and cons on every side of this. And, yes, if I could figure out what the hell is going on with him it would be easier.

And then the little guy on my shoulder whispered - he told you what's going on. He wants to see other people, he doesn't want a relationship with you. And when his dick gets itchy he figures you for an easy lay. And you always answer his calls, don't you? Up until Friday night you always opened your legs, too. But now he will most likely be gone and never heard from again. Will it do any good to chase him? He knows what he wants and what he doesn't want. And what he doesn't want is you. Yes, he likes you. Yes, he wants to be friends. So what? Does what he wants matter more than what you want? How are you ever possibly going to get over this if you don't cut ties? All ties. Permanently. Just don't answer the fucking phone. Delete the email. He'll get the message. If he ever tries to contact you again.

But you know why I don't cut ties? That fucking hope. Where the hell does that come from? Pessimism might help here. A little blame, for shitsake. Oh, it isn't his fault. Yes, it fucking is. He took advantage of your good nature. He told you himself. He was lonely so he used you. Yeah, but someday he'll come to his senses and fall hopelessly in love with you, right? Fucking chump. You are a fucking chump.

CHRIST - WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS?

God, I am such a fucking chump! What the hell did he ever do for me? Seriously - what the fuck do I even want him around for?

Who needs him? Who needs any man? They are all idiots! Seriously! Can you think of any redeeming qualities? He makes me laugh - buy a fucking comic book. For sex I have a vibrator. Spring is here so my hay fever will take care of any irritation requirements.

See, the problem is though, that I'm PMSing right now and in a couple of days I'll be all fucking glass is half full fucking door mat again. I need to take control of this right now.

And as I start to write "break ties once and for all" that little fucker on my shoulder says except if he calls or emails today. How do I squash you, you little son of a bitch?
He doesn't want you.
He doesn't want you.
He doesn't want you.
He doesn't want you.
He doesn't want you.
He doesn't what? Yes, want you.

That's it. Let go. Once and for all. Just walk away. And rejoice. And in a few years you will be driving down the road and think "remember that Fabian guy? Wonder what ever happened to him? What an idiot he was!"

Ah freedom, sweet relief.

Omigod. Oops. Mutherfucker. Oops. Vicious circle. De ja vu. Idiot. Sigh.

So, guess who called me yesterday. Come on, I'll give you three guesses. Shit. And he came over. We chatted, me in chair, he on couch. And it was fine. We had supper. Wine. Hours and hours. Then it got dark and I lit some candles and sat on the couch. He rubbed my feet. Fuck. Stupid, stupid. And then he kissed me. Did I want him to? Yes. Did it feel good? Yes. Then I said something like "unless something has changed, this isn't going to happen." And he pulled away. And I started crying. Crying, for fuck's sake! Two goddamned bottles of wine and I'm a blubbering idiot. I told him to leave. When he got home he wrote this:

"I'm an ass. I went over because I was lonely and I thought I could just visit but I was wrong. I almost made it without doing something stupid but I fucked up. I'm glad you laid the law down... at least one of us could. I feel comfortable with you Bev and I sadly took advantage of that. I promise it won't happen again. I'm so sorry."

Oh, I'm not to the good stuff yet. Cuz I emailed him back. Did I ever. Fucking idiot.

"Don't go taking all the blame, pal. I was there last night. I knew what was going on and I pushed it and pushed it and I wanted it. What I really don't want and will never want is to have sex with someone who is having sex with someone else. Bottom line. That is a rule that I have had my whole life and I told you that when we met. When I said "unless something has changed" I meant the fact that you wanted to sleep with other people. And the tears were a product of the wine so don't worry about it.
I really don't get this, Fabian. You feel comfortable with me, you like spending time with me, you obviously are okay having sex with me... so, what's the problem? I never asked you to marry me or move in with me or make a commitment to me or say that you loved me... I just wanted to spend more time with you. That's all. You broke up whatever we were doing back then because you wanted to be able to see other people. Where are they? Are you holding out just in case you find something better?
The most amusing fact of all of this is that we pretty much want the same thing, as far as I can see. I like my life. I like my time alone. I don't want children. I don't want to live with anyone. And I work weird hours so having a social life is virtually impossible. I feel so different from all of my friends that are married and having children. I don't want those things and I really don't know why - I just don't. And I'm mostly okay with being different... but being with you makes me feel less different.
I like spending time with you, Fabe. There's something about you that makes me feel good inside... something clicks into place. I don't understand how that's a bad thing.
I don't know what else to say. But I'm going to lie down now... crap, that wine was vicious!"

And that's that. No reply. I was lying in bed thinking about how I promised myself that I wouldn't chase him anymore. And wondering how he felt when he read my email. Or is he out with someone? Or gone into his cave? And then I laughed a little when I realized that he probably reacted the same way I did to the "we're both horny" email. Probably rolled his eyes and hit delete.

Oh well, whatcha gonna do? Stop checking my email might be a start. A damn good start.

I want to say that, unless he reacts favourably and soon, I'll have to cut off ties with him. But I probably won't. I love the fucker. Fucker.

Why is it that at the end of every movie, when the guy holds the girl and you just know that everything is going to be just fine, why is it that I always cry? I always think: I've never had that. And maybe I'll never have that. I guess I have though, maybe not the way I wanted it, maybe not like in the movies. Will I have it like that? Ever? Someone who will put their arms around me, just because I need it? I hope so. But I honestly fear that I won't.

And I know it isn't everything. I'm not that girl who thought that some man could make everything okay. That girl is gone. It would still be nice to have that, though.

I was just watching this movie and the guy says "do you feel like you chose your life or like your life chose you?" And I chose. I could have stayed in the trailer park in Wabush with Paul. I could have stayed in Mom and Dad's basement in Newfoundland. I could have stayed in my beautiful house with Karl and my beautiful dogs. But something was wrong and I needed to make it right. And I did. I don't think that I ever gave myself enough credit for that. People say how brave to move across the country by yourself. How strong to buy your own home and live alone. How dedicated to work so hard and do so well. And - damnit! - they're right. I keep reminding myself to stop crying for what I don't have, for being different and rejoice who I am. Because this is who I wanted to be. This. Here. Now. This. Me. Stop crying.