This is a very hard post to write, but I think it is important to share with the world.
February 2018 – Tired to kill myself.
Why? – Because my ex-boyfriend posted a Snapchat story with his new girlfriend.
This may sound like a stupid reason, but let me break it down for you all.
I started dating my ex in October 2016. I was truly infatuated with him and happy to be his girlfriend. Two weeks after we got together, he told me that he didn’t want anyone outside of our friend group to know that we were dating and keep it a secret. Mind you, we were in a small university program and so everyone knew that we were dating. I chose to respect his wishes as I also hated people knowing my business. This translated to us denying to many outside of our friend groups that we were dating.
In reality, I was never okay with this. I was so bothered that I actually made a “list of rules for dating me” on Google Docs to make myself feel better about being a secret. Everyone thought I was crazy for writing that list and I agree that I was too. I didn’t really understand how to express hurt at 21 the way I do today at 27. The truth is that I was devastated.
Throughout the relationship, he told me that he would never post me on social media and he would even delete his Snapchat stories with me in them immediately because he didn’t want anyone to see them. I thought to myself, “maybe he is super private and I should respect that”. He would also make me pay for condoms since he didn’t want to explain charges on his debit card to his Mom, but that’s a story for another day.
I continued with this relationship until June 2017 when I would effectively break up with him via text while drunk at a Club in Ottawa, while listening to Future’s song, Mask Off (not my proudest moment). We continued to have a tumultuous on and off relationship until November 2017, when it ended for good. We last spoke on my birthday in January 2018.
I was slowly getting over him, or so I thought. I was in therapy and making good progress forward.
And then, in February 2018, just as I thought I was getting better, I saw the snapchat story while waiting outside of a country bar I was trying to get into. It was him and his new girlfriend sitting in a restaurant together, laughing. That story would stay up for 24 hours, while any story with me in it never lasted for more than 5 minutes. I don’t think I ever felt greater heartbreak more than in that moment. I wanted to die and that’s what I set out to do.
I turned off my phone and left the bar. Mind you – many people came up to me in the bar and showed concern because I looked so depressed (bless their hearts).
I found an entry point to a building under construction near my old university. I climbed to the top level and looked down at the street. I saw the cars rushing by. I stood on the ledge ready to jump…but then a gust of wind almost sent me over and I realized that I didn’t want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop.
I stepped off of the ledge and turned on my phone. I answered the first call I got and went to my friends condo. My mom was there waiting for me. I had to go to the hospital and see a psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with “poor coping skills” and prescribed 4 different meds. I only took the sleeping tablets he gave. I don’t know what the others do.
I sat in depression from February 2018 until… well today. I cannot say that I do not get depressed when I think about him or see photos of him. In fact, I still get panic attacks when I see photos of him. I think its because he looks happy and I know that I am miserable. But I also do not recognize the man in those photos anymore. It seems like a distant dream.
That night has traumatized me for years and I haven’t even had the ability to discuss it in therapy as of yet.
The last time I spoke to him was when I wished him happy birthday in July 2018 (which I regret). It was clear that I wasn’t even a thought to him anymore.
I am embarrassed to say that I still stalk him on social media sometimes. I am afraid to be around people he knows. I have declined job opportunities because his friends have worked in the same office buildings. I am afraid to have him or anyone who knows him remember that I exist.
What I can finally admit is that the relationship I had traumatized me beyond belief. I don’t trust men. I am not comfortable being alone with them. Sex makes me feel like shriveling. I don’t want intimacy of any sorts. But more so, I am not comfortable navigating my city. I get anxious going to certain places.
Maybe that psychiatrist was right and I do have poor coping skills. Maybe I just have low self esteem and I haven’t fixed that yet. Who knows?
All I know was that writing this today, 4 years later, has been exceptionally cathartic for me and very necessary.
I know that life continues and I will be okay. My life is going well. I have a great job, I finish my masters degree on April 24, I have amazing friends, but I am still sad. I know I have chronic depression and that could be the issue, but I do not think I will feel better until I learn to love me and work on me further.
If you read this far, thank you <3.
Rainbow Glazed Nights 