No More GeekBoy

For those of you who know me personally, this will come as no surprise. GeekBoy is still GeekBoy, but he is my GeekBoy no more. There is some element of surprise to it, but not it did not come as a total shock. I had not seen him since the beginning of December, and hadn't spoken to him or had any communication from him in two weeks.

Of course, that's not to say that it hasn't been a massive emotional blow to me. I've had very little to eat this week, and sleeping has been difficult. I know that none of it was my fault and that there was nothing I could do to change what happened. I don't even feel like I've been dumped, but rather that we've split up.

I miss him mightily, and perhaps I always will. I wish him love and happiness. I would have liked to be the person he found that with, but I have no control over that.

I was watching Bones last night and one of the characters said something that hit home for me. He said that he was suffering from grief and that the only cure for grief is time. That rings very true for me. The first half of the week was very difficult for me. The second half has gotten easier. It's a relief. I still struggle to find any interest in eating. Food tastes like ashes and my stomach rebels at the thought of eating. Sleep has been difficult as well. My mind is so obsessed with thoughts of GeekBoy that I have to exhaust myself before I can go to sleep. Watching TV doesn't use enough brain power, so nearly the only thing I've been able to do is read.

My knitting group has been a godsend. I don't know what I would do without them. They offered to break his kneecaps for me. They were righteously indignant on my behalf. They let me know that I am well-loved, well cared for, and have an amazing support system. I don't know what I have done to merit such support and love, but I count myself truly blessed.

In the meantime, I move on. I work. I read. I inch toward happiness again. I work on finding my single heart, my pleasure in my own company. I grieve. I wait for time to pass, for the heartsickness to fade. I am strong, and I will make it through this.

Helpless

I suffer from depression and anxiety. It's one of those things that I think makes me quirky. It's deeply entwined with my personal identity, and is probably one of the first things I tell people about myself. I would rather have it out in the open. I would rather people know so that I don't have to explain every time I get taxed by social interaction or withdraw for a time.

Mental illness is a thorny issue. There's the argument about whether it's genetic or it's environmental. There's the argument about whether you can deal with depression on your own or whether you need medication.

First, I ascribe to genetics. There is a serious history in my family of bi-polar disease, depression, and anxiety. I'll be the first to admit that my life really isn't all that bad. I've had some pretty depressing things happen in the past couple of years, but mostly I have had enough money, a place to live, food to eat, friends that love me, transportation, and family whose love for me I have never and will never doubt. In the last couple of years, on top of the deaths in my family, I've had to deal with unemployment, the stress of job hunting, and financial difficulties that resulted from that. I think most people would have a hard time dealing with the slew of stressful events in my life.

Second, I take medication. I love my medication. I am more than a little terrified that I would not be able to cope if I didn't take it. It's a huge frustration to me that I can't seem to deal with the things that most people can deal with without falling apart. It is infinitely easier to slowly fall to pieces than it is to ask for help or emotional support.

That said, GeekBoy's going through something right now. I totally believe it's depression. I think that for him, it's probably circumstantial. He's had two close family members die in the time that we've been dating. He's had financial worries(who doesn't these days?), and a stressful job. He's also fiercely independent. I'm quite sure that he wouldn't appreciate me sharing his stuff with the internet, but I'm going to do it anyway because this is a blog about how I feel about my relationship.

I haven't really spoken to him since before Christmas. It worries me. He told me why, and told me that he wasn't going to be contacting me. I was prepared for it. It hasn't made it any easier. Of all the things that could happen, I understand this one the most. I know that he needs time to himself. I know that I can't do anything to make him happy. I don't know how this will affect our relationship. I don't know if it is bad enough for him that he would consider suicide. I don't know how long it will take for him to come out of it.

It's agonizing, the waiting. I think about him constantly. I worry about him. I am deeply upset by the thought of him going through this by himself when I want so badly to help him, to hug him, to give him any physical, emotional, financial support that I can. I feel helpless.

Hopefully it won't last much longer.