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"Just another stage - pageant the pain away"

"People always leave." That's what I'd told my therapist in one of our last sessions together. "Men always leave. They will die or leave you for someone or something else. That's what I've seen from my life."

There was never a man standing by my side to hold my hand or look after me. Even now I make it clear that is neither what I expect or even want from a relationship. I've never been anybody's little princess. I could never be. The thought of someone looking after me and doting on me and treating me 'like a princess' feels so wrong. It feels WRONG?! 
I want to be an equal. I want to split the bill for dinner. I don't want to feel owned or controlled in any way. I want to know that he isn't weak and needy. Because however weak and needy I am, I will never, ever display that side to him. 

And that's where it goes wrong. Sure Gareth knows I have issues with food and how I look (note: 'issues' not bulimia). But the girl he has hung out with for the last 6 months is also outspoken, bold, strong, fun-loving, tough, independent and takes no shit.
Sound like me?
Or sound like my favourite role play? 
Damn the stage. Why can't I get down off it.
He thinks I'm the type of girl who will go out and have a bit of fun and not give a damn about the consequences. He thinks I'm the type of girl that HE can have a bit of fun with. Cos I'm THAT type of girl. 
And I'll hold my hands up. It's totally my fault he thinks that. Because that's the role I play. 
And the award for best actress goes to... 
Why do I act? Cos I'm the opposite: fragile, lonely, frightened, bruised and hurting. And oh my god, how desperately  I don't ever want a man to see that. I don't ever want a man to know that he can hurt me so easily. I want him to know that when he leaves I won't give a shit because I've got it all sorted on my own. Men always leave. 
I like Gareth because I know he'd leave. He'd cheat and lie and ultimately leave. Successfully fulfilling my prohecy. My therapist had said that's why I chose them. 
Even that stupid boy Joe. I tried to do the right thing and date the straight, boring good boy. And he fucking left me anyway. Fucked off on a tour of South America for 4 months while my brain and body were breaking down. Ok, I could have kept up the pretence if I'd wanted to and stayed with him for this time. But almost as soon as he'd got on the plane the love had been completely drained. He wasn't my boyfriend, he was a stranger, sending me sporadic whatsapp messages. A stranger, indifferently typing: 'I miss you' or 'I love you'. When I broke it off he didn't fight back. He just said, "I suppose it's for the best right?" He didn't want to fight for me. 
He let me walk away and didn't look back.
Gareth gets back from Barcelona today. I had set myself a challenge of not mesaging him. Unfortunately I broke. And he hasn't replied (granted he probably doesn't have wifi for whatsapp). But still it was enough to make me spiral. Yesterday was a three time binge and vom. Sneaking off to the corner shops to buy cake and stuff it into my face before I came back. Purge, purge, purge. Purging myself of all the pain - no, of all the numbness, of all the sickness. I've also been exercising like crazy - obviously - since Gareth and I both both work out in the bank gym together. I want to be the super hot girl with the abs in the crop top and tiny shorts.

Yes. Just another stage.


  1. It's you on that pic,isn't it? I always imagined you just like that.glad you are writing again (you are brilliant at it!) although i am sad to see you are struggeling..

  2. I'm sorry you are struggling. It's sad how someone so beautiful, smart and talented can also be so broken. It's even worse to see how common it is. I truly hope you can find peace within yourself. We may be strangers commenting on a blog, but you have support from your readers. Take care.


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What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.

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We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…