The Lesser of Two Evils

My nervousness is dissipating a bit, but not as a result of much that I’m doing, myself. The man I'm dating has a schedule such that our dates have been spaced out at a comfortable pace for me. Basically, we have been taking 4 days in between dates, which gives me time to freak out, freak back in, and be ready in time for the next encounter. I like that. I find our timing to be quite comfortable, because I have ample time to breathe and regain my composure for the next meeting.

My dates and my workouts are similar. When I exercise, the fibers in my muscles are torn and then need time to rebuild. If I work out too many days in a row (which I did this week – ouch), the overall process isn’t very enjoyable, because I haven’t given my muscles enough time to recuperate. However, when I leave enough time in between workouts for the muscles to adapt before working out again, I end up being stronger than I was before. I am so spastic about dating and getting close to someone other than my Chris, that I need those four days to calm down, breathe and remember that there are things about this man that I like. If I don’t have that time, my fight or flight response get activated and, where dating is concerned, my tendency will almost always be to take flight.

So, our next date is Saturday evening. This will be date #3 and I actually want to go, even though I’m a bit nervous. Still, I have an overwhelming feeling that now is the time and that if I don’t make an effort to push myself over the grief-induced fear-hump today, I may end up setting myself back.

I just need to keep reminding myself that even though I am experiencing quite a bit of anxiety, that anxiety feels better than my loneliness of last week. I’m choosing the lesser of two evils.

Gained in the Telling

Monday evening’s date went well. I’m nervous, still. I guess that’s normal. I can’t remember what normal nerves feel like, without the widow/grief element. I suppose the possibility exists that I’m experiencing normal nerves and attributing them to other areas.

I keep pressuring myself to feel love. I forget that love comes with time, but because I felt such intense love within my relationship with Chris, I’m having trouble remembering that I was this nervous when I first met him, too. In fact, I was nervous enough to cancel two dates on him.

I need to remember that I’m allowed to cancel a date if I want to. I’m allowed to feel grief. I’m allowed to express to this new man that I need to take things carefully and slowly and that I need the leeway to process the relationship-related grief that is yet to come. He seems like a compassionate man. I guess I’ll find out whether that statement rings true.

I can’t help wanting to know what my future holds. I don’t like wearing blinders. I am thankful that my life is about to become very busy, again, once school begins. This semester I will be taking three classes, working out three times a week and (well, I may as well say “hopefully”, since that’s the first word that popped into my mind, despite my reluctance to admit it) dating this man.

Fear has a tendency, with me, to cloud excitement and anticipation. I have to try to remember how excited and happy I felt after our first date, so I can keep things in perspective. I’m afraid to let go of Chris, and as a result, I am in danger of sabotaging my potential to enjoy myself in another man’s company.

Grief is hard. I’m afraid that I won’t be understood, or tolerated.

What I realized, yesterday, is that telling people about me and this man helps me to accept our possible partnership. People are happy for me and when I see their reactions, I feel as though I have been given an injection of approval, warmth and support. Something is gained in the telling.

Still. I’m scared...and excited...and hopeful.

Shneed

Deep Breaths...In...Out...In...Out...

Nervous, nervous, nervous. That’s what I am. I wish I could control how I feel. Date #2 is this evening. I’m trying to hold myself together, but it isn’t easy.

I think this might be it. That’s why I’m so nervous. I’m ready. I could really be with this man. Well, that’s how I feel right now. We hardly know each other. Still, he has all of the qualities I like in a man.

I’m going to try to breathe for the rest of the day until I go meet him, later on. I’m also going to try to enjoy the anticipation.

Shneed

No Matter What

After a 3-week hiatus from the gym, I began working out again, this past week. The owner mapped out a 3-day-a-week routine for me that will take me through the next few months and then I can do it all over again after that. Feeling the pain of a life of fitness again feels really nice.

I had been feeling lonely for a while, so l answered an online personal ad last week and met a lovely man with whom I had dinner the other night. He asked me out again the next day and we’re going tomorrow night to have dinner and ice cream. He’s nice, smart, funny, sweet, cute and very nerdy...exactly the type of man with whom I like to share my time. I don’t know what, if anything, will come of our dates, but I do know that I feel less lonely and more ready to be with a man than I did the last time I tried romance.

I lay in bed last week, crying, saying over and over again to Chris, “No matter what, I will always love you. No matter what. No mater what. No matter what.” I hope he heard me. I hope he knows I’m telling the truth. I know that my mantra symbolized a deep seated longing to be released from my guilt, as well as an indication that I’m gearing up toward moving on, even if the insight is still partially subconscious. Funny, isn't’ it, that I have the ability to become aware of what I still consider to be in my subconscious mind? I’ll have to take that up with Clay and get his professional opinion on whether becoming aware of something subconscious is even possible.

So date #2 is tomorrow evening and I’m actually looking forward to it. I think I have done everything I can do within myself and my own life to move forward and the possibility exists that I may need somebody else to pull me the rest of the way out of my guilt and grief. Somehow I have formulated a hypothesis that some supportive, compassionate, understanding, loving arms just may be my ticket into the next phase of my life.

I feel as though something large is going to come out of this union. I find myself planning my life to enable a substantial amount of flexible time, just in case we keep seeing each other. I want to make sure I’m as available as I can be. I’m still doing everything I do, but I’m taking my classes online next semester, instead of going to class in person on a weekly, designated schedule. I’m still working out three times a week, but now my evenings are interchangeable. I find my willingness to make room quite curious.

No matter what, Creej.
Love Shneed

Nothing to do but write, with an injured knee

I was going to work out this evening after a 2-week sedentary carbohydrate bender. Unfortunately, I went to a foot doctor this morning, who helped me stretch my calf muscles and by the end of today, my knee was in so much pain that I couldn’t work out. I went and tried to jump rope, despite the pain and the fact that I had to sit on the platform at Davis Square Station because I actually could not walk at all for a few minutes. Damn titlted patella. It’s an old football injury, figuratively speaking.

When jumping rope proved impossible, I moved over to the weights thinking I could at least get in some strength training, but alas, even pushups engage the knee to some extent. Sigh. I came home. And I ate stuff. There’s always tomorrow.

I haven’t written in so long. I stopped taking Zoloft about a month ago because I am currently involved in a psychological study in which a different anti-depressant is being tested. I had to get the Z out of my system before beginning the study (which is fascinating, by the way). After getting through the withdrawals, I made a slow decline into depression. I would wake up and cry and I would cry before bed.

I’m going to cry about losing Chris for the rest of my life. It’s okay. He deserves my love. I’m beginning to worry that I’ll never open up my doors to another man, again. I want to. I suppose that man will have to be special enough to allow me fall apart until I settle in with him.

My Chris. Sometimes the grief just isn’t better or easier or lighter or anything. Sometimes my grief seems as though it’s in the past. I don’t control it, though. I just roll with it.

In my mind, Chris was so perfect for me in every way that I can’t imagine somebody else could also be perfect for me in other every ways.

I miss him.

I got angry last night and threw away my road atlases from the trunk of my car. They were Chris’. He insisted on having them. He loved maps and swore by them. He got me to a place where I actually used them from time to time instead of pulling into a gas station to ask for directions. Last night, I was mad at him for leaving and I threw them away...I suppose I threw him away. I’m still angry and I’m glad I did it.