We’re supposed to get married in October of this year, but this pandemic is probably going to make me cancel my reception and scale down the ceremony to maybe ten people. I’m not too upset because large groups make me nervous, but on the other hand there’s that voice in my head telling me nobody wants to come anyway so I should cancel and just go to town hall [I’ve been having some bad mental health days recently. Work just reopened and my manager is taking an extra week off because she’s immune-compromised. I’ve known the acting manager for a year, just through work, and when we work together she seems to take her frustration out on me, so I’ve been feeling pretty useless recently as a result] It’s been a long engagement because I wanted to get married on this specific date in 2020, and then 2020 turned into this lol. I’ll probably have to figure out how Skype works for my wedding.

As for the “friend,” we’re no longer friends [shocking, I know] Turns out, just because you acknowledge a person is problematic with a ton of red flags, doesn’t mean they won’t kick you down a flight of stairs. So yeah, I saw all his red flags, repeating past negative behaviour, and problematic ways, accepted him for who he was, and still got my heart stomped on. So January 1 he had a Gatsby party [which I ignored pointing out the parallels between him and the character. Also, minor annoyance, I was trying to discuss the book with him and he said it was too boring so he didn’t read it. He was constantly berating me for not reading enough and insisted I read Beowolf, but he couldn’t finish The Great Gatsby] So it wasn’t costumed, but myself and our other mutual friend decided to go in 20’s outfits. Turns out everyone decided to dress up, including himself. Everyone, except for his girlfriend, who was the last to arrive and saw everyone else in costume. No joke this was the exchange

Her: Oh wow, I didn’t know it was a costume party.

Me: It wasn’t, work friends and I thought it would be fun.

Him: Don’t be modest, it was implied it would be costume as anyone who truly understood me would realize this.

The rest of the party she sat by herself while he kept fawning over my outfit [which, it was a black dress, black gloves, and a feather in my hair, nothing that mesmerizing imo] but he was like “that dress is stunning on you,” “I never noticed how long your legs are,” *rubs gloved arms without permission* “these gloves are gorgeous on you” at the end of the party he even held my coat and helped put it on me. Oh, and at one point I was chatting with someone, he yawn/stretched, and pulled me into a hug [held me to his chest for a solid minute] and from that day on, he’s ghosted me. IDK what happened, but his girlfriend keeps telling me “he’s mad at you, so don’t talk to him because he won’t talk to you.” We had 2 social gatherings before the quarantine and he ignored me to my face. I walked up to him, began chatting with him, he stared past me and walked away as I was talking. I eventually called him out via text and he said I’m inappropriate with him and we should distance our friendship. So long story short, I felt like an idiot for falling for the same shit again, but I don’t want/need his friendship. So even if he does appear in my life again, I’m going to blow him off.

As for your response, thank you [I say that a lot lol] it really did help [as always] I don’t really talk about my childhood because I don’t want to over-share, but I do, but strangers on the internet, so I’m iffy on how far I should go. But I feel safe on TinyBuddha sharing, so I’m more open here than anywhere else [outside of therapy and to my fiance that is] I am trying to slowly rebuild a relationship with my dad, it’s just odd because I admired my dad so much as a kid, but our relationship kind of stops at childhood because it then became only seeing him for a few weeks in the summer and the occasional phone call. During the divorce, my mom very much leveraged our love against our dad to a degree, while my dad was glued to the computer and didn’t really get off it much. I’ve always had odd sleeping patterns, so when I would get up at 1am, I would get my dad, and he would go downstairs and make himself a Cesar salad and we would sit and talk. He would tell me I didn’t deserve what I was going through and to not take it personally because mom was hurting right now, then he would return to the computer. Actually, this January I finally snapped on my mom’s side of the family. I was visiting my grandparents and my grandfather and mom were going off on what a piece of shit my dad is and I finally said after 20 years, I was sick of hearing it. My mom said she never realized how much she hurt me and said she wants to make it up to me [how/when I’m not sure, but it’s a start]

Oh, and I wanted to share a little therapy breakthrough. So, as detailed above, my original diagnosis was my doctor going “you have anxiety and depression. Get over it.” and walking out of the room. My therapist did an evaluation when we started and determined I’m no longer depressed, but with my family history of anxiety, I have many of the symptoms of social anxiety. So while we both weren’t wanting to label anything just yet, nor are either of us wanting to medicate something we can simply retain the mind to learn, we settled on social anxiety. Last month it was determined I actually have PTSD because of how badly I was bullied as well as all the abuse I suffered among other thing. I’m still getting used to the idea I have PTSD because while I know anyone could get it, I’m like “I’ve never been to war, I don’t have a reason to have PTSD” which is what my therapist is working on with me; Cutting myself some slack. I hold myself to a hideous double standard. I think I drive my therapist crazy with how I can rationalize anything to make me the bad guy or I deserve to be treated a certain way. [probably not, because she hasn’t snapped at me yet for doing it, but it’s only a matter of time until I push her too far. I like her.] She said something similar to what you said about turning my loyalty to myself, I need to show my younger self some compassion. She wants me to write a letter of encouragement to my 19-year-old self and I’m dreading it. 19-year-old me was the me who was being gaslighted, and I usually dump on her. A lot. I usually refer to myself at that age as an idiot, a loser, and pathetic. So having to say how proud I was for what I did at 19 [I was mailing out manuscripts every couple of weeks, joined in on some protests, completed college] is going to suck.

Thanks again for everything you do Anita, I really love reading your responses.

• This reply was modified 4 years, 6 months ago by Nekoshema.