** Content Warning: self harm, panic attacks. If these topics upset you or cause you distress, then you may want to skip this read. If you choose to continue reading, I have listed relevant resources at the end. **
I had a nightmare the other day while taking a nap and I’m still SHOOK from it. It reminded me of that cheesy Christmas movie where there’s a ghost that shows some guy his past, present and future (A Christmas Carol, maybe?) and my future was not looking good at all.
So a bit of background: either I’m just stupid or sadistic, but for the past few months, I’ve been trying to rebuild a relationship with my ex. Nothing romantic at all, because those feelings are completely gone, but I guess I wanted to see if a friendship was possible since that seemed like the “mature” right thing to do. But, as you can expect anything related to exes to go, things haven’t been working out. It’s been this annoying cycle of him sending “hey stranger” texts, me feeling bad and thinking “oh, maybe he’s actually changed this time” and responding to said texts, talking for about a week, then me getting ghosted after I try to carry 99% of the emotional labor that a friendship requires. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Fast forward to now where my dumb ass is on my 5th or 6th time getting ghosted and my fingers are literally itching to text him, either to cuss him out or genuinely see how he’s doing. Luckily I’ve been too busy with family and creative stuff so I haven’t actually had the time to hit him up, but then I had that nightmare.
So the dream starts off pretty normal, just me sitting there (in a hotel room for whatever reason) with my parents and I’m debating on sending him a passive aggressive text. I finally decide to send something along the lines of “hey, you know a phone works both ways, right?”. Shortly after sending the message, I get a response, which was already alarming considering that he usually doesn’t respond back until 5 to 7 business days later, if at all. It’s from his number, but it’s not him. It’s from some random girl:
“Hi, this is _____’s new girlfriend. I would really appreciate if you could stop texting my man.”
“He’s not responding because he’s obviously not interested in you, friends or otherwise. So you’re just making yourself look desperate and pitiful.”
“And I know you’ve been talking about him on your shitty little blog, so that needs to end too.”
“Just move on sis, because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with your crazy ass.”
This went on for like 15 texts and every time my phone went off, there was another demeaning, cruel message. I was distraught. I ran to the bathroom so my parents didn’t have to see me crying and upset over the messages. I sat on the floor having a panic attack from the crying fit and reached for the razor blade on the sink and began cutting myself. I felt even more upset for doing that and having to hide everything from my parents who were less than 3 feet away. And that was it. I woke up.
It’s possible that it was just a random dream caused by eating too much apple pie before falling asleep, but it felt too vivid and real to just be random. It felt like an omen. Like my subconscious was trying to tell me “girl, if you don’t get your shit together and let him go, then this is what you can expect.” I never want to feel that level of pain or embarrassment.
The two points that really shook me to my core was the comment about my blog and the way too detailed imagery of me cutting. Not too many people know that I used to self-harm and I’ve been insanely proud of myself for not self-harming for 3 years, despite the continuous ups and downs with my mental health. Texting him isn’t worth relapsing and ruining everything that I worked too damn hard on. It’s not worth reopening wounds and bringing back those intense feelings of pain and distrust. My blog was another major accomplishment of mine that helped bring me out of a dark place, so to have this faceless woman talk down about it like it’s nothing made me feel worthless.
*Whew* So if you stayed all the way up until this point, you’re a real one. I say all of this to say that sometimes you absolutely have to let things go, no matter how much it hurts. I know that anxiety can cause people to ruminate on things more than your average person and that makes it just that much harder to let things go, but you risk causing yourself more pain by holding onto something that’s not for you rather than peacefully moving on. That’s what this nightmare/wake-up call showed me. Although social media and society overall makes me feel bitter and childish for not being able to maintain a friendship with my ex, I realize that I don’t owe him that at all. I don’t owe him my friendship, my love, or access to my presence. Instead of chasing after something that’s been dead for years, I choose to put that effort into finding those who genuinely love and care for me, both platonically and romantically.
P.S., and just in case there really is some imaginary new girlfriend lurking on my blog, thanks for the views bitch, you’re only putting more money on my wallet 🖕🏼.
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