The double edged sword of repeat break ups.

 

I know that most people wont have read my previous posts, but to those that have, theres a bit of a gap in the timeline here. I will write another post explaining how me and my ex/current/not current relationship has come about, but for now I had a thought about the affect of these on and off relationships and I wanted to write it down.

Tonight I went to see her perform. This is alwys going to be a bit of a tough one as she is the focal point of the room and is naturally going to get some attention from that, coupled with the fact shes a good singer and guitarist (I’m sure I’m not the only one that finds that attractive) means that when youre in some limbo of none relationship, you can get to feel a bit awkward.

Despite putting on my best happy face and and joining in with one liners and jokes to the group we were with that I’d never met before, I was clearly not a convincing actor and I could see her looking over at me from time to time trying to figure out what was wrong. And that’s an impossible situation for me because whats the solution, tell the truth on what’s making me feel awkward? I know I can’t do that because if I do I know she will do what she always does in these situations, run away from it and we will have another week of arguments and trying not to message each other.

So here’s whats making me feel awkward, What are you supposed to make of a person that acts like your girlfriend in private but not in public. (I know anyone reading this will be thinking “you idiot”).

I mentioned tonight after some chatting when I got home that I was surprised she hugged me after her set and she asked if she was that bad with affection? well no she isnt. But as soon as we are in public thats a very different matter.

The repeated break ups have made me lose confidence, not just in the relationship but in myself as well since it is always her that ends the relationship. I realised tonight that as much as I desperately want to make it work with her, which I do as I am completely in love with her. I can’t do it all on my own. She commented tonight that I can tell her to fuck off if her lack of affection is a burden for me. Which I felt slightly wronged by because I feel like its a chore for her to show any association with me other than that she would show any other friend.

The repeated breaks ups are making me lose the resillience or confidence to say what I want and I’m starting to feel like im being demanding by wanting the most basic of interactions people have in their relationships, hugs, hand holding etc etc Don’t get me wrong im not one for PDA but the things people normally do in relationships like leaning slightly on a partner or touching their arm at the bar she seems reluctant to do. And yet our sex life is better than ever. So its not like i’ve been cut out completely. At this point im done double guessing myself and it’s starting to sink in that I’m fighting for something I cant make happen. It’s a really sad realisation and I’m not sure what to do with it.

If I wanted to chill with a friend I would have gone back to my hometown and drank whiskey and played playstation in my sweat pants.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Night all

It’s fine. Never Mind. I guess. But is it?

 

 

 

Some of the statements I find myself saying a lot recently. It wasn’t until I felt the least “fine” I’d felt in a long time that I realised just how often I say this to those around me, and it got me to thinking, Why do these statements escape my lips when they are the least applicable words to what is going through my head at that time.

The more I thought about the more I realised that I say these things, mostly, for two reasons. One,  to save whoever I’m talking to from having to acknowledge or deal with what I am saying. Two, in an attempt to devalue my own feelings or thoughts. How ridiculous it is to explain to someone that you are feeling lost or heartbroken and then follow it with “never mind”. Why never mind? surely going through one of the most painful human emotions (that of rejection or loss) is the least “never mind” thing you can experience.

After getting to a point where I realised I had bottled up all negative emotions to the point it had started to cause me serious problems with almost all of my relationships, professional, friendships, girlfriends, family, they were all being dragged down by my inability to deal with a catalogue of backdated issues and frustrations. After some counselling, I felt infinitely better and this was mostly down to the fact that someone sat down and made me talk about myself unashamedly and actually pursued how my experiences over the past few years had affected me. The initial meetings were bumpy and disjointed because I realised that I simply wasn’t used to talking about myself or prioritising myself in any way, it felt horrifically self-indulgent and vain to just sit there and talk about my own life and what I had struggled with and why.

After finishing my set of counselling sessions I made a conscious effort to be more open with those around me and if they weren’t on board with occasionally hearing how I was then I probably didn’t want them in my life anyway, relationships should be both give and take. (If anyone has read this far and read any of my previous posts you’ll know I recently went through a break up). When talking with my now ex I realised that every time I spoke about my point of view on the issues we were discussing I almost immediately followed it with a cop out. “it’s fine”, “never mind” “I guess it doesn’t matter” and I’ve realised the only effect of doing this was allowing the other person to not address my point of view or acknowledge how the break up was affecting me.

So here’s something I’ve learned from this breakup. It isn’t fine, it does matter and “never mind” is not a way of dealing with putting yourself on the line with how you’re feeling. Don’t give people an out when dealing with your emotions because now all I have done is cheated myself of some of the validation or closure I deserve by being too considerate for the other person, not wanting them to have to deal with my issues.

Break ups suck for us all but don’t make it worse by copping out of at least explaining yourself and getting the answers you deserve.

Man Up

 

Something many of us will have heard a thousand times throughout our lives. But lately i’ve been wondering what exactly “Manning up” entails.

It seems that while on the surface society is trying to catch up to the fact that men and women can face the same tribulations and the idea that one gender is better at doing so than the other, or that one should be ashamed of struggling at times, is absurd. In reality this modernisation of thought is skin deep and there is still a taboo but firm belief that men shouldn’t show weakness, they especially shouldn’t show weakness in terms of emotion or mental health.

This belief is undeniably one of the biggest reasons that suicide is still the biggest killer of men under the age of 45 and men make up 76% of all successful suicides in the UK. So why is that?

I guess everyones experience is different, but I would imagine that a lot of these men suffered the same seemingly insignificant emotion somewhere along the way. Embarrassment. Now i’m not saying that people feel embarrassed and immediately turn to suicide but I do believe that this embarrassment prevents many men from reaching out for the help they so desperately need.

I would fit into many of the “manly” stereotypes and yet I feel completely lacking in what is expected of me as a man. Before I move on I’ll give a little bit of an insight into me personally. I’m 6 foot, Have a beard, tattoos, I go to the gym regularly and thanks to my dedication to team sports throughout childhood and into early adulthood I would consider myself relatively at ease in social situations. I often come across as confident and self assured, I drink whiskey, I have hobbies and interests and meet new people regularly. So here is the thing, when I experience situations, emotions, thoughts etc that seem foreign to me particularly those that come from a place of considered weakness, i’m often left feeling embarrassed.

Why is it that I’m expected to feel embarrassed about the fact that at times I struggle? Is it right that I shouldn’t be allowed to succumb to situations that have an emotional impact on me? As a man should I not feel hurt by people and events around me? am I not allowed to feel anxious or vulnerable? Am I failing as a man when my mental health starts to drag me down and I can no longer function in the same way I once did?

In the last year I came the closest I ever have to committing suicide, even writing this now I feel weak admitting that fact. This wasn’t a passing thought, it wasn’t a bad day. It was a prolonged period where this thought was my default consideration whenever I stopped and had time to think.

Throughout this period people asked me “how are you?” and I had a variety of false responses to make them feel assured enough that they wouldn’t prompt anything further from me. I would smile and joke about being tired or having a long day whenever anyone caught me with my guard down and would see the mask I had carefully crafted to reassure everyone around me, slip. I did this because I didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable and had learnt from experience that if I was honest with how I was feeling people would think I was being dramatic or negative. Which I was, because the time I was going through was both dramatic and negative, but to avoid the inevitable “cheer up”s and “man up”s I would say what people really wanted to hear. I’m Fine. I was not fine.

I desperately wanted to talk to someone but the only people I felt I could trust to share these feelings with, I didn’t want to worry. Again I was embarrassed that I couldn’t overcome these thoughts on my own and I didn’t want to inflict that conversation on someone I cared about. I have a really fantastic family, genuinely, I couldn’t ask for more from them, I see them often, they’re supportive and understanding but at the time I was acutely aware that my mum also suffered with depression and would be unlikely to share it with me if she was struggling at that time, so what if she was? and then I unloaded all my worries and suicidal thoughts on her and it left her reeling because she was also dealing with her own issues. I couldn’t tell my Dad, I don’t know why I couldn’t tell my dad, I just knew that I couldn’t. It’s nothing he has ever said or done. He’s never made me feel like I couldn’t share with him, but, he is a living embodiment of what society deems to be a man. He’s the bedrock of our family and while he has had many struggles throughout his life I’ve never seen him “ weak”. He’s always provided for our family financially, he’s supported both my mum and sister through their own personal turmoils but never really brought any of his own to the table. I’m under no illusion that he has had his own problems but somehow he always manages to deal with them in a calm and dignified manner. And most importantly, privately. So while he would never have judged me for opening up to him, I didn’t even know where I would start, and I didn’t want to know. Despite the fact he would have undoubtedly have been there for me I had an overwhelming sense of shame that I had turned out to be someone so needy.

One of the biggest things that brought me to the edge of becoming a suicide statistic was who I did turn to for support. Because I knew how awful it was to feel alone and isolated and vulnerable despite seeming fine (to most) I made a conscious effort to reach out to those that I noticed in the same boat. I would talk to people who were feeling their lowest and throw all of my energies into making them see that they had someone that cared, that they could turn to. This sounds like a great idea on the surface of it but it came with a big flaw in the plan. I ended up surrounded by people all thinking the same self harming thoughts, and those that pulled through them then discarded me because they no longer needed someone that understood what its like to exist in that grey world of depression. This happened time and time again and gradually stripped away the last remnants of my self confidence. The culmination of this was when a friend of mine attempted suicide in my flat while I was at work. The attempt was ultimately unsuccessful but it broke the final piece of my resolve. I dealt with her family, I tried to be as supportive as I could but at this point I was aware that my act was falling apart. While she wanted to remain in contact after the attempt, I couldn’t. I knew she was getting the support she needed from her family, friends and professionals and if we remained in contact my own suicide would have a devastating affect on her. My inability to continue to offer my friend support resulted in her lashing out towards me and the friendship turned toxic, taking several other friendships with it. I was extremely confused about how I felt towards what had happened.

In an effort to be truly transparent here I’ll go into some of the thoughts I had of that event. Primarily, shock. I couldn’t believe that someone had come so close to suicide and I hadn’t seen it coming. I knew they were troubled, depressed, but there was no colossal warning sign. The idea that this could happen without a visible rapid decline beforehand was terrifying. I hated that she had got to this point and wanted her to be ok, but deep down there were other emotions that I was too ashamed to even admit to myself. I was so angry. I couldn’t verbalise it, I couldn’t even write it down or admit to being anything less than “fine” but it was there, deep down. The knowledge that someone who knew my own struggles in more depth than anyone else would then choose to take their own life in my flat and leave me to pick up the pieces was heart shatteringly hurtful. The one place I could hide away from the world and try and balance my thoughts had somehow become unsafe and I no longer felt at ease in my own home. I know its irrational and i’m very aware how selfish it is to consider myself in this situation but human existence is always experienced in an insular manner so no matter how hard you try to be empathetic there will always be an over riding sense of self that forces you to consider your own experience in every situation. I found this anger so shameful that I completely avoided it. When people heard what had happened and asked how I was doing I always spoke of how my friend was doing and focusing on her recovery because I felt that was the only acceptable thing to talk about. I denied all my own feelings and tried to push on through life. This lasted a few months.

As is often the case with life, I had several other things that were starting to affect me, work, friendships, money. These were every day things that normally I would have been able to handle and move past but I found myself exhausted. Aside from the things that were contributing to my downward spiral I also stopped enjoying all the things I used to find moment of happiness in. I stopped working out, I stopped doing all my hobbies, I rarely saw friends. I isolated myself completely because I found my existence so overwhelmingly dull and negative that I didn’t want to inflict it on anyone else. One quote alone stopped me from committing suicide at that point.

“Suicide doesn’t end the pain, it just passes it on to those that care about you”

As I mentioned earlier, I have a fantastic family. I’m very aware how lucky I am to have that. And on the night where I found myself looking over a bridge to the abyss below I had a fleeting moment of clarity that this act would forever tear my family apart. While I wanted it all to end, I couldn’t make the final step and have my loved ones receive that news the following day.

That night I walked home, I packed my bag for work the following day, curled up in bed and  cried for the first time in years. I finally stopped caring about “manning up” I would rather be alive and a failure as a man than end it all. The next day at work I got half way through my shift and realised that I could no longer go on the way I had. I couldn’t maintain the act anymore. I went home, and rang for help. I organised a visit to my GP and told him that I could no longer go on the way I had been and I needed help. I would love to say that the doctor was understanding and helpful but unfortunately that wasnt the case, at this point I no longer cared. I abandoned the fight I had been pridefully maintaining and got a prescription for some medication, I also pushed to speak to a counsellor as I finally admitted I needed to speak to someone. I left with a small sense of victory because while I still felt the same, I also knew that I was taking control of my life again by actively trying to ensure that things would begin to improve.

That was around 6 months ago now. I was nervous about going to a counsellor, it seemed self indulgent to go and unload my problems on a random stranger but I soon came to realise that the fact it is a complete stranger is the exact reason it’s perfect if youve been unable to open up to those around you. Someone objective that has experience in this field that you can use as a sounding board. It made me verbalise things I hadn’t even been aware I was feeling and overall it saved me. I started to unravel the way I was feeling and it enabled me to verbalise it to those around me. I started to feel more like myself and because I had managed to open up to a stranger, I was now opening up to those that new me best. I also realised that it is not selfish to prioritise yourself sometimes. Its not selfish, it’s essential.

Things aren’t perfect now, far from it. I still have bad days, sometimes I even have bad weeks, But I survived the almost irresistible urge to end it all. For me it was my family and I have no doubt that without them I would have ended it all that night on the bridge. They’re still not aware how close I came to suicide and I have no intention of them ever finding out. But they know I struggled and they’re aware of the warning signs now.

There are two things that I will take from my experiences this year.

How terrifyingly unpredictable suicide can be. I had no idea that suicide could go from being a repeated thought to an overwhelming compulsion in such a short period of time.

The support is out there. Now that I know the support structures available to me I am more confident that I wont allow myself to get back to the same place again. I truly regret not reaching out to professional services sooner. I know that it is daunting, “Where would I even start” was something I thought frequently. Making the call or talking to someone honestly without worrying about shame or embarrassment is so important, it can literally be the difference between life and death. Making that initial contact with someone and asking for help was the hardest thing I had to do, the process of recovering from that point on was infinitely easier than building the resolve and finally acting upon that resolve to seek help.

I know this blog has been long and meandering and probably lacked focus at times, But if you’ve got this far I hope in some way it has helped. Don’t “man up” don’t let your shame or embarrassment rule you. Ignore the stereotypes, and get rid of the people that want you to follow them.

Samaratins: 116 123  (24 hours)

http://www.samaritans.org

Mind: 0300 123 3393 (weekdays 9am – 6pm)

http://www.mind.org.uk

Calm: 0800 585858

www.thecalmzone.net -Campaign Against Living Miserably. Help and support for young men aged 15-35 on issues including depression and suicide.

HopeLine UK – 0800 068 4141- Practical advice on suicide prevention

www.papyrus-uk.org