I am pivoting. “Pivot, pivot!” as the character “Ross” from Friends yells at Rachel, as they move his couch.
It is not much of a change. All I know is what feels vital to me right now is talking about the addiction to people and then the beautiful terror of no more terror.
I am Stage 4 in my recovery (this is a good level mostly).
Stage 1: know something is wrong that I probably should stop dating a certain type of someone, but I can't stop. Run my life slowly into the ground while I look and feel high functioning. (Hello hours of sex with not so great people for me).
Stage 2: Be obliterated in mind and body and consider maybe I have a problem and it is not just my angsty misogynistic lover child. It is how damn compulsive my need for him is. I’m the problem, it is me and Taylor.
Stage 3: Go cold turkey on all of it: the texting, heartbreak, plan making, hours of great nothingness, discussions with anyone who will listen about the great sad mantra of our dating nation: “Is he even that into me?” Find life meaningless, empty, and have suicidal thoughts (that is not so fun). Be lonely AF floundering looking for a community who is actually community.
Level 4: brain chemistry starts to balance, serotonin and dopamine comes back from normal every day things so life starts to feel meaningful again. Begin to pursue life outside of love/dating truly, not to hold me over but to find lost parts of my soul. Hi! I am the problem and the solution, it’s me.
Thank you to my clients: you keep me sober by getting to pay it forward and crack me up and make me cry tears of relief that what Ive faced is really for something bigger than me.
My husband: you teach me how to be breathless and wrecked by incredible meaningful sex. And you cheer on my hours of trauma work, thats cool too.
To society: you are no help here. You make all obsessed with saving their lover or could-be lover. Bending over backwards to make it work or learning how to live without healthy reciprocity. Fuck that, no thanks.