Love could be the deadliest drug of all

Hi

I’m sharing my story, because it seems to make me feel better, which I’d guess is point of this site.

I’ve always had sensitivity, anxiety, and depression issues, (undiagnosed), but often medicated with once drugs and nowadays alcohol as a have a kid which has straightened me out some. I’ve managed to keep a good job, but have generally isolated myself. I’ve had thoughts of suicide in the past, but i’ve generally managed to form some kind of stability in work, sleep overs with my kid and the occassional binge drinking episode. A lonely existance, yet stable for me and also held together with a little creativity and an addiction to checking my online dating profile in desperation for contact.

I was generally, not happy but content and seeking connection of any kind. I met some really cool people that i could see wouldn’t work (and yeah I know, i probably shouldn’t be seeking relationships in this state, but i figured what the hell, I may never be normal and maybe theres a sweet and troubled individual like me out there who might find some peace in me as well)

Anyway, I finally met this girl in a whirling magical night that ended up with us smoking cigarettes on her roof. I left that night with an overwhelming sense of love and elation so intense I could barely breath. She was absolutely perfect. Even our meeting had a strange coincidentally background story that just added to this strange happening. I never saw it coming and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t been this high since i first fell in love as a teenager or tried that first hit of crack (very old news). But as my brain works, it goes up and must come down. Insecure and emotionally exausted, me called the whole thing off with a text, which resulted in an immediate call back, in which I was forced to explain myself.

I had had a couple of drinks and the call wound up with me in tears explaining my actions, that I’ve been basically a sensititve weirdo since childhood and that cant cope with such intense feelings, hence my isolation from people.

I was shown an extreme amount of compassion and understanding, which kept things together between us but not with out a few more episodes from me. I knew it was abnormal to love somebody this intensely and i expressed that, but it was excepted. but not without the suggestion that I could be a manic depressive (probably true). In spite of this I was made part of her life and met her friends and family. We had both acknowledged that we had made some kind of soul connection that weirded us both out. Our closeness was too close perhaps.

In the beginning I gained a huge amount of confidence, worked myself a raise at work, repaired my relationship with my childs mother and old friends and good experiences where falling out of the sky. I truly believed in magic and felt very spiritual at this time. My happiness brought clearity, focus, and a sense of self like I’ve never experienced before. about 3 months went by and even though our intensity had leveled out a bit we started to become a little distant. After I took my daughter on a vacation and she a work trip, separating us for 2 weeks it seemed this relationship had formed into a submissive role by me trying to fit into the life of a stable and grounded individual, a free spirit that couldn’t love me the way I her and as she mentioned it was probably inevitable that we depart.

Finally I could no longer bare loving someone this way, who couldn’t love back and I had to go. Everything came crashing down, and I’ve never experienced such mental agony, self loathing, shame, regret, and utter loneliness. It was pure heaven dangled, briefly in front of my miserable life. It made me feel normal and stole me from a life of depression that all came crashing back. I knew i was fucked up and I tried to explain that and not even start this, because I knew it would end. Instead i jumped in (with a little coaxing from her) with a wide and overly open heart and wound up in a mental torture that reduced me for days with the idea that suicide could be exceptable (or at least, gotten over) by the few people who may have concern for me. I couldn’t move, i couldn’t sit still. Every second of everyday hurts. I just want to be normal. Like her. Perhaps we did make a soul connection and as she says, “she learned a lot from” and probably did. And built her character from the experience as one should, but instead i’m back in the shit, with the knowledge that i’m not fit for this world. I’ve tried sobriety which can be just as painful and boring. I want to keep this heart and sensativity. it keeps me going in this world alone. It sometimes makes me creative, but I guess it’s just having the strength to not resort to drugs and alcohol, (all the time) and having the strength to take a beating by life every now and again. But how on earth does one cope with those moments where your soul is ripping it self in half and you wish you could at least go insane instead of spend one more moment in this not only cruel world but agonizing heart and chaotic mind. For me it was reading articles like this and of course time. but time for what? More experiences like these or A life of self medicated isolation. Guess I’ll light another smoke and keep on truckin.                   Thanks J