Yesterday’s Therapy Sesh…

It’s been a month since we got back from our fantastical voyage to the islands. A month of ups and downs. Mostly downs. As I said before, I didn’t want to ruin yesterday’s retelling with the ugly truth, but today is hump-day and it’s been scientifically proven to be a day of bouncing back and moving forward (yes I just made that up). So what better day to tell a crappy story than hump-day?

So, here goes… we got back from our vacation. I should mention that he is, as far as I can remember, the only man I have ever gone on a vacation with for any length of time. I usually travel alone. I like it that way. No schedule, no planning, no problems. But, alas, we did the thing, had a great time, made plans for our future together, got home, and he slunk back down into the abyss of self loathing and self destruction. He went right back to his couch and his fireball and his binge watching television and his forgetting that I even exist. I just went to work. And then yesterday, I went to therapy. It’s not a secret that I have a therapist. Or at least it’s not anymore. I don’t think there is anything wrong with therapy. I think it actually helps some people. I’m not sure if I am those people, but I go semi-regularly.

I hadn’t been since before the cruise. When I got back, I missed an appointment and then I just never rescheduled until last week when I could feel myself getting super angry and knew I needed someone to talk to. That’s the great thing about therapy. You can bitch and moan to your therapist about your boyfriend and your boyfriend problems and unlike your friends, they never once bad mouth him or tell you that you are stupid for sticking around. They are paid to just listen and on occasion ask open ended questions so you feel like you discovered some deep dark hidden secret about yourself.

That’s why I adore my therapist. She’s pretty in tune with my needs. Not that I can’t vent to my friends, because my friends are great and I definitely can, but my friends also have their own lives and their own problems and their own very big opinions. And I want things with me and Flea Market Guy (FMG) to work out and if they do, I don’t want my friends to hate him for all the stupid crap he’s put me through and if it doesn’t work out, I don’t want them telling me that I should have left a long time ago because I deserve better. I don’t need a friend or a therapist to tell me I deserve better. I do realize that. It’s just the putting it into practice that I have a hard time with.

I told my therapist that it’s sad that he can be so shitty and selfish sometimes and he’s still the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, because when we are good, we are really, really good. We’ve just been in a slump. And by that, I mean that he has been in a slump. I try really hard to not let his crap interfere in my life. It’s really easy because we don’t live together. That’s why I went to therapy.

We have plans to move in together. When we were vacationing, we both agreed it would be a really good idea. But that was when he was being “the good boyfriend.” Since we’ve been back, he’s been the “not so good boyfriend” and it has me questioning everything. I don’t even want him to move in with me. Partly because I’m super scared of living with a man. History has shown that my picker is definitely faulty and he has proven that it may still be, but also because he’s so far down in the bottle right now that he is losing his apartment and I am basically his last desperate act. And I definitely don’t want that.

Super Therapist said I seem angry. I agreed that I am angry. But I’m not angry at him. I’m angry at me for continuing down any sort of path with him. My head knows that I should just say fuck it and walk away. My heart and every other emotion in my body says that if I love him, I will stick by him because he does keep trying. He just also keeps failing. But again, historically speaking, I have a tendency to walk away from men right at the time they are ready to get their shit together and then they end up being exactly the person I wanted them to be with me for their next girlfriend (you’re welcome, ladies).

Super Therapist says I seem like the kind of person who is always on the fence. She is right. I am. I try to see every situation from all sides. It’s really exhausting. I wish I could be one of those people who was stupid enough to believe that their way was the right way and there was no way anybody could tell me any different. I’m not sure that would necessarily make my life any easier, but at least I’d make a decision and stick with it because I’d always be right (in my mind).

As it stands, I make a decision and then second guess it and third guess it and fourth guess it until I get to scenario number 50 and I have no clue what the right answer is even though I know what I would tell my friend if she was in my situation. I’d tell her the same thing my friends would tell me, “you deserve better, fuck that guy.”

And that’s why I go to therapy instead of calling my girlfriends with my boy problems. I don’t need anyone to tell me that I’m stupid and that he’s not going to change. I want to stay in my little delusional bubble for a little while longer and try to love him through it.

I’m not going to lie and say that it is easy. It’s not. And I’m super close to the edge. But I’m also human and there is something to be said for that old saying that the heart wants what the heart wants. Mine wants the guy that went on vacation with me. And every now and again, that guy really shows up. When he does, it gives me a glimmer of hope about what our future could be like. Of course, he shows up right about the time I am ready to throw in the towel and he throws all the second thoughts I had out the window and I just want to love him again.

It’s a terribly vicious cycle. I know that I will figure it out eventually. I know that maybe it will end in heartbreak. I know that I am the only one who will suffer the consequences of it. I know I am making excuses for why I’m not ready to call it quits. And that is exactly why I go to therapy instead of happy hour with the girls. I don’t want opinions. Super Therapist says I’m pretty insightful and self-aware. She actually rarely has to talk because I can complain about my problems and then answer her questions about why I feel that way before she even asks the question most times. But she is insightful and always says the right things when I need to hear them.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s calling me out on my shit or telling me that it’s no wonder I am the way I am, just look at (insert past fucked up situation here).

And then I sit and make excuses for FMG and why I’m still around and I’m pretty fucking tired of all the excuses. His and mine. And maybe today is the day I walk. Or maybe today is the day he gets his shit together. Or maybe today is just Wednesday.

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