I started this because I was well aware I was losing my mind, and I wanted to truly document the train wreck. It is clear how unsure I was about everything. He was never my forever. He was my “alright I guess this works”.
I should mention I was also on Prozac.
It was for a short period of time. It was my first and only time on anti-depressants (prescribed for my anxiety). I was about two months in, so it was starting to take full effect.
Prozac may have started to work, and I did manage to keep my emotions stable and lesson the amount of anxiety attacks I had in the grocery store – but I never wanted to be on it, and I never wanted to be “fixed”. My anxiety was a part of me, and it made me who I was.
I liked who I was, and people liked me – quirks, anxiety, craziness and all.
My feelings started to change as I slowly tapered off of the drug. I think as I came off of it, I took my rose-colored glasses off to see the world, and him, for what it was.
I think it is fair to say I was somewhat under the influence.
While I wait for my forever, I want to look back at my personal love history and figure out what led me here. I know that is the foundation for terrible lifetime movies (that I love) – but those movies exist because the concept masks sense.
Are all my failed relationships all my fault?
Did I pick all the wrong men?
Is there anyone else I can blame this on to make myself feel better?