So curiosity got the better of me yesterday while waiting at a doctor’s office. I checked out my list of blog followers. You know whose not on that list anymore? Jack. So I’m finally blocked from his life in every aspect.

He has the right to move on. It’s probably better for his mental health to not have the notifications.

But why the fuck am I still processing this grief?

The discovery made me quickly cry on my way home. I hadn’t had a good cry in a couple months. (Thanks, antidepressants.) Instead of going home, I drove around in circles for about two hours. My brain went to self pity mode.

I guess now I don’t have to tiptoe as much with my words. He’s not reading them. It’s as if the thread finally snapped. The thread that was holding me to my past. The chapter of my life that had Jack in it is really over. He tossed the manuscript in the trash while I kept re-reading.

I wish I had been left alone. That he didn’t do all he did to get me to go to rehab. I’d probably have kept using. I was doing some major damage to people in my life- who knows where I’d be now if I stayed in the trenches of delusion.

Alas, here I am. On the other side. Trying to work on my mental health while simultaneously drowning in my own gunk.

I even made a dating profile as a distraction. I received a few likes and messages from some cute guys. But I can’t open them. So I’m not ready. As much as I crave companionship, I’m ignoring everyone that reaches out. No idea what’s wrong with me as I keep myself in isolation.

I just want to be okay.