And then back

''After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.”

This is another one of those times where I'm sitting down to write because my crazy brain is too busy being, well- crazy, for me to really get a handle on myself and I need to self soothe. Today that will take the form of an advice letter, cause reasons.

Dear knower-of-things,
I'm writing this because I think I need someone to hold my hand and stroke my hair and explain to me how the world can actually be a good place, because I recently had something happen in my life that has seriously fucked me up and I don't know how to fix what's been broken.
Almost a year ago, the man that I loved broke my heart. Or more than a year ago, unfortunately, due to my own weakness and a particularly callous partner it's hard to tell which little cut finally toppled me. He cheated on me. He threw himself at strangers, friends and family members alike and then threw the smoke bomb of mental illness to try and distract me from the fact that you can leave someone who hurts you even if they feel real bad about it when you let them see you cry.
It worked for a distressing amount of time. I became a person that I couldn't respect, I got to learn how many people I had previously loved and trusted didn't return the favor, and I did an awful lot of pathetic crying, but I eventually made the only decision that would save my sanity and walked out and I have seen astronomical improvement in my mental health.
Sadly, if your starting point is 'clinging to life by a thread' then even cosmic change is still a bit thin.
My self deprecating jokes aren't actually jokes. The amount of effort it takes me to wake up and face a world full of people has doubled, if not tripled. I don't know that I'll ever again be one of many, and the few people that I didn't completely write off will not be people that I confide and take solace in.
I walk, I talk, I joke and even laugh but I am not really here.
But believe it or not, that is not my problem.
A while after my paradigm shift, I decided that I wanted to start going on dates. Not dating, not forming personal connections, just going out to a place and wasting a couple of hours and then going home to sleep in my own bed and probably not calling later. I listened to a lot of Marina and the Diamonds. I talked to a lot of different people and saw a few and it didn't go anywhere and it was exactly what I needed to happen at that time.
I got to feel wanted and interesting and not at all like myself and then walk away and nurse my own pathos out of sight of inquiring eyes.
But then I went to a bookstore with a disheveled gentleman who appreciates gothic artwork and recites the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear when he is having a bad day and now I'm nose to nose with the mind killer itself.
What the flying fuck do I do.
No seriously. I am so fucking torn up and spun that I am legitimately terrified and spending distressing amounts of time trying to convince myself not to fake my own death and live out my remaining years as a hermit. When I first left, he-who-can-suck-a-big-bag-of-dicks made some attempts at reparation and I told him, quite truthfully, that even the thought of being romantically and emotionally intimate with someone was so terrifying that it actively caused panic attacks to think about it. That feeling, that pants-shitting fear, has not abated.
Moreover, I don't know how to handle sweetness. What do you do with your spare time when you don't have to constantly apologise for someone?
When someone says something beautiful and nice to you- about you- with no expectations...what do you even do? Because I'm pretty sure 'make a dumb joke' isn't the correct response. Not every time, not forever.

So I've been trying to push aside my own neuroses and use my famous candor to show affection instead of scorn. Somehow it's five thousand times easier to tell someone I think they're an asshole than it is to say 'you're wonderful'.
Beyond even that- I don't trust myself the tiniest bit anymore. Not to make good choices, and not to be worthy of someone else's devotion. I've seen what I do when I feel insecure and hurt- a state of being I've been living in for months on end now- and nobody deserves to put up with that. Seriously, I was never a delight to deal with but this shit is just ridiculous.
How do you tell someone how much you appreciate the care they've shown you while simultaneously warning them that it's an unwise investment? Should I learn sign language, or send a coded message on Facebook?

I'm just...I guess I'm learning that happy isn't a thing I know how to be anymore.
I hope I can relearn before I fuck everything up.