Everyone goes through breakups

I vomited again. The world was spinning. There is something about living through your most desperate times, the most hardship and pain you think you have ever experienced gets repeated and you have to go through it again. I was sitting on the tiles of the bathroom floor, the rank smell of half digested sushi in the toilet, and the blinding hospital lights in my shitty run down apartment bathroom. This was my rock bottom, I thought. This is the scene they play in movies to show how terrible this persons life is. I can’t even form a coherent thought, I cant even lift myself off the ground without falling. I felt like a naked baby left in the saraha. My bones felt empty. All I could think about was him. And this wasn’t an isolated incident. This wasn’t even the first time it has happened this week.

After a while I was able to take a few steps to my bedroom and provide my aching body some amount of comfort. I dont know when I fell asleep, but I gasped awake to my alarm at 7am. Fuck I have to work. I already used the food poisoning excuse last time, I’m gonna just have to brace it. I still felt hazy from the bong hit last night, but I was almost certainly going to get fired if I didn’t go to work today.

I keep dreaming of a time when none of this matters. When I wont have to enthusiastically talk to people for 8 hours of the day, and put up with all the shit that goes into working a minimum wage job. I keep dreaming of working hard at something I enjoy, at being the best in my department, at being respected, at having some self worth. I will not miss the life of a student.

I find myself leaning into these fantasies more in the current situation. Maybe it is some source of comfort that this will not be a forever situation, that in five years he wont matter to me. I’m tapping into the future to find my strength, even if its just strength required to go to work today. Why does everything feel so hard. Why do hours feel like days.

“Everyone goes through breakups” my therapist tells me.