I think that the problem with a lot of life is that it's presented to be much better than it is. That's not me saying that life is a dreadful thing, just that it can seem everyone has it all sorted, when the reality is very different. It happens a lot on social media, but even in every day life, people say that they're okay as a greeting, instead of admitting the truth.
I'm hoping that I can be one of those people to remove the rose-tinted glasses and hopefully you'll actually be happier as a result. To try and do this, I'm going to write a post that is very personal to me and will probably be acting as a bit of self-therapy. That means it's maturity and respect from here on in.
Still here? Thank you. Let's go.
On the 14th of September 2013, I started a relationship with someone (we'll call her Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, or PCBH, for those of you who like Friends). I was just 15 and I'd never had a serious relationship before, so I didn't really understand what this could mean for me. Well for the next two years, this meant becoming a part of a new family and opening myself up entirely to PCBH. As a result, those two years were absolutely incredible and filled with some fantastic memories that I hope to never forget. It also meant that I ignored my friends a lot, but when someone makes you as happy as PCBH made me, it doesn't really matter because you think that all you need is that one person.
Just before we hit our two year anniversary, PCBH went to uni (she was the year above). The two year anniversary came and we FaceTimed, but couldn't really celebrate seeing as we were so far away. We'd celebrated before she'd left for uni anyway and it had been a great night, so I wasn't too fussed when she didn't speak for me for long because she was still learning uni life. Shortly after that, she put us on a break. Well fuck. What am I supposed to do seeing as she's at uni? We agreed that she could kiss other people, but no more.
Now this isn't in detail, because some things should remain private and my principles mean that I have to respect PCBH. So over the next few days, PCBH did significantly more than kiss people and even spoke to me in between events. What had happened was only revealed when she was a bit wavy and scared, so needed my help to calm down. She texted and then called me in the middle of the night, explained parts of what had happened and told me she wanted me back. I felt like being sick, but I saw what she'd done as what she needed to do to realise that we should be together and I was so relieved that she wanted me back, so I didn't flip out. Instead, I rambled to her until she fell asleep and fell asleep shortly myself with a rollercoaster of emotions bundled inside. Over the next few days, I realised that she didn't seem so convinced to be with me and we continued the break. It was only when I couldn't take it anymore that I forced her to decide if she wanted to be with me. The answer was no.
I had bursts of anger, but the next few weeks were mainly made up of self-doubt, hopelessness, constant crying and an inability to eat, sleep or think of anything other than PCBH. Looking back, I might have been going through a temporary phase of clinical depression (not that I ever let it on - PS. Don't self-diagnose like I just did, go to a doctor if you're worried) and I can tell you that it's horrible. I wondered if I should consider considering suicide because I thought this might be how people feel when they get to that point. It really wasn't how people feel and it was never an option in my mind - I'm terrified of death, so it never would be.
Anyway, I kept trying to work out why she'd done it, justifying what she'd done and making it my fault because I knew that I could change me, but I couldn't change her. I convinced myself that she could never hurt me because that was easier than the reality when I was so desperately in love. I tried being her friend in order to get her back and just ended up finding out things no ex would ever want to know. I supported her during her lows and got scathed when I didn't, yet never got to take part in the highs. I talked to her for the last time over the phone in October 2015 and called her "my little sunshine" (that was my name for her). It was with great pain that I decided not to talk to her until I'd gotten over her because I knew that I would never get anywhere otherwise. That was a really awful addiction to try and break, but by talking to friends and family, watching videos, understanding I wasn't alone, blocking her on social media and doing other things, I managed it.
Now clearly this was a horrible experience that I will never forget. But as much as I wish it had never happened, I wouldn't change it for the world. Doesn't make much sense? Let me explain what I mean. I hated the pain that I went through, but the experience helped me to learn so much. I learned how to be independent whilst still being brave enough to rely on others. I became more confident and gained more self-belief. I recognised all the great traits that I have. I began to care more about what I thought than what others thought. I learned that it's okay to put myself first. I discovered the value of friends and family. I learned how to turn something ugly into something beautiful (I've written some songs that I'm proud of). I recognised how little I actually know and that I can keep learning new things. I found out the importance of actions over words. I learned that "not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck" (Dalai Lama). I learned that every cloud really does have a silver lining, even if you have to travel a few miles to find it. I learned to not constantly compare myself to others. I realised what makes me tick. I realised the importance of being self-aware instead of self-critical. I learned how to be happy with what I have now, instead of looking at the past or to the future for my happiness. I learned that it's okay to cry, to miss someone you think you shouldn't and to be weak. I learned being open is the brave thing to do, not "manning up" and swallowing my problems because other people might not want to hear. I learned to accept myself and be myself. I learned the difference between being alone (physical state) and lonely (mental state) - I'm never lonely anymore because I know that I'll always have me. I learned to be understanding and empathetic. I learned that my problems are important, whether or not they'd be problems for other people. I realised that it's okay to be proud of myself.
Even though I learned all that, I still find myself very confused about my emotions towards PCBH and what was, is and could be "us". Sometimes I want to talk to her so I can let her know that things aren't as they were the last time we talked - she's no longer on the pedestal I placed her on and she's the one that should be jealous of me. I want her to understand what she did, make her see how it effected me, apologise and really mean it. Other times I just miss her and want to meet up - it would be really nice to reminisce about old times and catch up. Despite what happened, I don't think I could switch off that I care for her; she was my first love and she gave me a lot of what I want from life. I guess that's why I sometimes confuse her with my future hopes and as a result, I do things like this post to pretend there's still a two way dialogue, when in reality I'm the only one taking part. This whole thing isn't easy and I know it's going to take a long time before it is. Maybe loving someone else will disconnect PCBH from what I want in the future, but for now I want to be single to focus on myself, so I'm kind of in limbo in that regard. It's not a simple case of realising you don't want to be with someone and moving on. It's frustratingly much more complicated.
In the mean time, I've been able to do a lot since PCBH and I broke up. Much of my motivation has come from proving to myself that I'm better off without her and, despite some obvious low moments, I really am doing better without her. I've strengthened old friendships and built new ones, I've learned to drive, I've worked at 3 pubs, a café and even twice for NCS as a Senior Mentor (no I wasn't fired multiple times, I chose to move), I got an A* at a Political EPQ (although my exams didn't go so well, so I need to do resits to get into Newcastle), I completed my Gold DofE, I'm in Tanzania volunteering for 3 months as I write this and I'll be travelling around SE Asia with my two best mates.
I didn't write this post to show off (although I am very proud of myself). I wrote it for my own personal development, but also for those of you feeling shitty for one reason or another to let you know that you're not alone. You have people around you that care, even if you think you don't or that you don't deserve it. Life can really fucking suck, but all that pain is worth it. The pain makes you who you are - and you're fucking awesome.
"Everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, then it's not the end."