Making Myself Clear

I write on this blog to keep people updated, you know, so they know I didn't die or that I didn't kill myself or something, and so that they kept in the loop.

But there are boundaries here I want to make clear.

I am sharing my feelings. My deepest, most honest, hurt, painful feelings. I am entitled to those feelings. In the words of the psychologist whom I saw only yesterday, my reaction to this, and the time period for which I am experiencing this is right on target and perfectly normal. There are stages of grief, and I have to go through them. I am sure it is different for everyone; in fact, I know it is. For me, my whole life was shattered from one hour to the next. Look at your partner. Think about how you feel about them. Think about all of the things in your relationship which you know as truths. If in an hour you found out that everything you have known in your life together to be truth and fact is suddenly... NOT... how do you even fathom that? Can you even understand that sentence?

How does a person stop drooling and staring and realize that what they are hearing is actually happening? How long does that take?

And I have been shocked. This entire story is unbelievable. And although I have been able to repeat the story several times, it doesn't mean I have been able to process it in any way shape or form. When it's not happening to YOU it is completely different. This is happening to ME. Not YOU. ME. This happened to me. I lost my partner, my future and everything I treasured in my life. About a year ago my friend's mom commented to me that all of my dreams were coming true. And they were. Do you know how precious it is to have your dreams come true? How special that is? How rare?

And where on Earth are you even supposed to begin to process it when you are suddenly informed those dreams are gone?

This is my blog and I am entitled to write, post, and leave pictures up however, and as long as, I like. (It is also too overwhelming for me to change stuff right now too. I'm not even looking at my blog, I'm just writing it.) It is extremely hurtful and upsetting for me to get comments, emails and IM's from people telling me I should be this way or that way and I need to do this or that. Not only is it upsetting, but I am now saying it isn't okay either. It doesn't do any good. You are all entitled to your own opinions and feelings and I am leaving this blog public, however, by sharing those opinions directly with ME -who is actually going through the experience right now, the worst experience of my life, you aren't doing anything helpful. You are hurting and upsetting me. This is something that has now happened with at minimum half a dozen people. This is what I risked by sharing what happened, but maybe if I speak up now, it will help other people put themselves in my situation and see perhaps what is and is not tolerable and unacceptable behavior/actions/comments/etc. We are all opinionated. But we have to remember that opinions need to come after empathy and sympathy. Because opinions serve ourselves and sympathy serves others.

I love Matt. I love the man that I knew, who took care of me, who thought I was beautiful, intelligent, the smartest person he knew. That there wasn't anything I couldn't do if I set my mind to it. I loved his hugs and smile and reassurance and the open way he shared his feelings and love for me. I have never been so happy or so secure in a relationship before. (Nor had I ever been so full of myself after all of his compliments!)

Despite everything, even with my intellectual and logical side chiming in here, I am still grateful for the relationship I had with the Matt that I knew because it taught me I could be happy. That I was special. That I was someone to be treasured. No one has ever made me feel as wonderful as he did. Honestly, in my entire life, I had never been so happy as I had been as when I was with him. It was such a weight off my shoulders, such a relief and exuberance of joy to finally KNOW what it was to be loved. That I could be loved! That I was loved! And it was amazing. And I felt amazing and wonderful every second of every day that I was with him, and I told him so!

Regardless of what was going on in his reality, the relationship he had with me WAS real to me, in every sense of the word, and I had never been so happy before. I remember smiling SO BIG and telling him just how happy I was! I didn't know, or have the faith that I would ever get that kind of joy out of my life, and HE is the one who gave it to me. I cannot emphasize that enough. I had never been so happy as I was in the moments I spent with him. Particularly early on in our relationship. The day we told each other we loved each other, I was over the moon. And you proabably could have gotten a tan from just looking at me, I was radiating so much sunshine!

But, the man that I knew is gone. He is not in that house with that woman and that child either. He is gone. He is someone that was dreamed up, or maybe what the real Matt wished for himself, maybe the kind of person he really wanted to be. I will never know. All I know, is that I truly loved Matt Timmons, and he has passed away from my life and won't be able to return to any place or time in the future or past.

For all intents and purposes, he has died. And I miss him dearly. And if that is how I chose to cope with this, and it helps me, and my psychologist thinks that this is healthy, and an appropriate reaction to this, then by golly, regardless of what anyone says, that is what is going to happen. Let me greive my loss. There is a process to this, and this is the first step. We can't just jump from Step 1 to Step 5. It's a process. I'm on Step 1. So let me be on 1. Let me sit here, on one, with my box of Kleenex, and my boyfriend's ratty old t-shirt and miss him. Because that's where I am and that's what I need to do to take care of me right now.

There is a time for anger. But it is not right now. I'm not an angry person to begin with. I never got angry with my previous ex and I had plenty to be angry with him about. It's probably more likely than not that I will eventually simply feel sad and feel sorry for the real Matt and whatever drove him to do this and hope that he becomes a better person in the future and truly repents his mistakes.

But my Matty? I loved my Matty. He loved my cats. He accepted me for who I was. And he even didn't mind that I put the milk carton back in the fridge empty sometimes. He thought it was cute.

Be kind... I love all of your comments and suggestions and I read them all and I look forward to hearing from all of you, but please be aware of the kind of state I am in right now and that unless it's going to help me, or soothe me, or even just make me feel not alone and know that you're there... save it for another time.

Thank you guys for sticking around and reading... even though I'm officially a mental patient with a poop-load of cats now. (=Crazy cat lady)