In my first week back to work, I set about creating some new, healthy habits for myself. First, every day that I work, I use the elliptical in the fitness room for 45 minutes. The elliptical machine is not your typical elliptical. It doesn’t have the arm levers like most of them do. In fact, this is the first one I’ve seen that didn’t have them. So, I consider it an elliptical stair climber, haha. Anyway, I use that every day that I work, so that’s 3-4 times a week. Then, on my days off, I either walk for 2 hours or do a walk/jog session on the treadmill in my apartment’s fitness room.
I did the walk/jog session for the first time the other day and I completely overanticipated what I would be capable of doing. I was hoping to be able to do an hour of going back and forth between walking and jogging. Yea, after 15 minutes, I was ready to curl up on the floor and die. My windpipe was on fire because I don’t breathe properly when I run. I breathe through my mouth, which is apparently a no-no. You should breathe through your nose and out through your mouth because then your nose conditions the air as you breathe it in, thus resulting in your windpipe not feeling as though it has burst out in flames or that you swallowed a sheet of sandpaper.
I’ve come up with another idea (it’s not in any way a new idea) for myself. Since I sit in an office chair at home to watch tv and use the computer and I own a balance ball, I thought I could substitute the office chair for the balance ball for about an hour each day and do leg squeezes with it while I peruse the internet or watch a program. I don’t know why this thought didn’t cross my mind sooner. It’s an absolutely brilliant idea. And if I couple it with using little ab roller, my core muscles will be whipped into shape in no time!
On my days off from work, my working out will consist of twice a week doing the walking/jogging sessions on the treadmill, which I hope to increase up to jogging for a full ¼ mile before I have to stop and walk, and doing a 2-hour power walk. Once I have the money and replace the crank on my bicycle, then I will be able to go for bike rides as well on my days off. At the end of this month, I’ll be able to afford a new gym membership so that I can start lifting weights and attending fitness classes. I’m really looking forward to that.
Fitness was once a very important component of my life. I want it to be that way again. I want it to be the most important component of my life. I want to be fit and healthy in every way possible. I want to enjoy my body again. I want to look in the mirror and not reel with disgust at what I see reflected back to me in all its jiggly glory.
I really don’t understand how I allowed myself to get this way. Sure, Jon-Pierre would always choose where we ate. And sure, he never wanted to do anything active. But when it all comes down to it, I was the one that didn’t put my foot down and stand up for myself; I’m the one that allowed it to happen and allowed it to continue. I am ultimately to blame. And all because I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to upset him and make him unhappy with me, too bad he was already otherwise unhappy with me. He would tell me it was my turn to choose where we ate or what we did and every suggestion I would make he would shoot down. I would then proceed to make 3 or 4 more suggestions, all of which he would subsequently shoot down as well, so I would give up and just tell him to choose. He never wanted to do anything I wanted to do. And really, that should have been a flag for me. Good relationships are equal, both participating in something the other enjoys, even if you don’t like it. And I participated in plenty of things that I didn’t enjoy just so I could do things with him and share experiences with him.
I hate it when I allow my fear of being alone and lonely to get the better of me. Being alone isn’t so bad…at least, until I allow myself to feel lonely and detached, longing for intimacy. Of course, this can’t be avoided. It’s human nature to connect with each other and feel the bonds of friendship and romance. So I know I shouldn’t feel bad about letting it get the better of me, except that when that happens, I tend to act rashly and not think things through, only wanting to be with someone, at any cost. And that’s when mistakes are made…mistakes like my entire relationship with Jon-Pierre. I really don’t think I learned anything that I could take away from the whole miserable experience except that love is a mistake and I don’t know how accurate that is. Of course, early on (and I have no idea why), but I thought that Lady GaGa’s song “Bad Romance” described our relationship. How right I was and didn’t even know it. Because our relationship was truly a “bad romance” in every possible way.
I know I keep going back to my relationship with Jon-Pierre, but I guess that’s just because he affected me so deeply in so many different ways. I was definitely deeply in love with him, more in love with him than I had been with anyone in 10 years. He got under my skin so easily and effectively. It was effortless for him to slip under there. He made me into the damsel in distress that he required so that I would be his “type.” Then, because I wasn’t the strong and independent woman he began dating, I became unpleasant and inconvenient to him. I was now annoying and needy and clingy. Love can be an ugly thing sometimes and how I acted with him wasn’t pretty at all.
Jon-Pierre put me up on a pedestal and then walked away. He built himself up to be completely romantic and caring and attentive and then he just stopped. When he stopped so abruptly, it made me crave it. I was a love-sick crackhead. It was a dangerous thing for me to feel and act this way. I was completely irrational and frenzied and desperate. I craved the attention that he had withdrawn from me. I needed the love that he suddenly refused to give me. It’s not like we had been in the relationship for a while and we had just settled into a pattern. If that had been the case, I wouldn’t have freaked out over it. It would have been comfortable and okay. It wouldn’t have been cause for panic attacks. The way he acted, or didn’t act, made me believe that he was cheating on me, or at least talking to other women behind my back. Which, it turned out, he was.
He also didn’t stay single for very long after he and I went our separate ways. That really didn’t come as a surprise seeing as how he and his previous girlfriend before me had only been apart for maybe a week when he and I started dating. That alone should have been a huge flag, especially when I found out that he was still living with the girlfriend before her when he started dating her. I repeat, huge flag.
I know he didn’t stay single for very long after me and even that he may have been already dating before he and I had actually broken up because of a car I saw him getting out of the driver’s side door the other day. It’s a car I started seeing shortly after he moved out of my apartment and into his own apartment within the same complex. I’m not even sure if he waited until he moved out of my apartment before he started seeing her. He would sneak out in the middle of the night and allegedly go to a 24-hour coffee shop where he’d play on the internet. He even once sent me a random picture of him at the coffee shop with his headphones on…as proof, I guess. But so much in our relationship was a lie or a case of misleading information that I really wouldn’t put it past him to find out that he was already having some kind of intimate relationship with me.
He broke my heart like my heart had never been broken before. I was crushed and frantic with extreme levels of anxiety and panic. I wasn’t sleeping. I gained more than 20 pounds due to the stress. It was a horrible time for me. I was completely miserable and distraught. I could barely function. What compounded it even more was that I had just injured my back when he decided to pull away like he did. He couldn’t have had worse timing if he had tried.
I’m slowly healing. This one really tore me apart and ate me up inside. It won’t be a rapid recovery. It’s already been almost 6 months since he and I split and I’m still all tore up about it. When I go to my truck, I still catch myself glancing up at his balcony or over at his motorcycle that hasn’t moved in almost 2 weeks since he moved the new girl in. It’s almost automatic as it’s not something I actually want to do. I want to not care anything about him. I mean, the relationship was only 7 months long. It shouldn’t still be having an affect on me like it is. I glare at his door when I walk past it as I go up or down the stairs to my apartment. I hope every day that when his lease is up, that he moves because, frankly, I was there first, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’m moving at the end of next year, so I don’t want to move again toward the end of this year. He is now an intruder in my life. His presence is not welcome, yet there he is. There are the possibilities of random run-ins in the parking lot. I don’t have to worry about running into him again while he’s walking his new girlfriend’s dog as I no longer have a dog of my own to walk.
This is definitely harder than I ever thought it would be for me. Thankfully, I have stopped crying over it for a long time now. I have stopped losing sleep over it. I now only feel anxiety over things that actually deserve to be felt anxious about, like bills and finances and vehicle issues and stuff like that. I no longer lay awake at night wondering what I did that was so wrong, what about me that was so bad, that he had to leave me the way he did. I know now that I didn’t DO anything wrong and there isn’t anything BAD about me. I’m human and I make mistakes. One of those mistakes was dating him. That’s the only thing I did wrong and no, it doesn’t mean I deserve to be punished or anything like that. It just means I need to be more careful and to raise my standards a little bit. And, right now, my standards are impossibly high because I don’t want to get involved with anyone at all. I don’t want to be in a relationship beyond friendship with anyone.
When I told a friend my plan to stay single for the remainder of my time in Texas and that I hoped to remain single for another year after moving to Oregon, she exclaimed “You know what’s going to happen now that you’ve said that, right? You’re going to meet the man you’re meant to be with before the end of next year!” I said that was fine so long as he is willing to move to Oregon because I’m moving at the end of next year, no matter what. I’m putting my foot down on this and I refuse to budge. The only thing that would change my mind is if he had lots of money and would be willing to take me to Oregon twice a year for visits, which I highly doubt will ever happen. So, therefore, I’m moving to Oregon, no matter what!