Who am I? [Aug.11]

Edited 8th August to add: like the previous weblog, I wrote this and then quite quickly hid it again... It feels disloyal to him to be so openly blogging about still being hurt when it really isn't his fault that I am still so hurt, and I need to be moving on. But whether or not I need to somehow just get over it, this is how I feel right now, and so I've unhidden the blog once more.

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Tomorrow the week starts again. Go to work, from 8am to 8pm, kicking arse, sorting people out, doing stuff, creating the impression that I know what I'm doing, that I'm good at my job. Laughing with colleagues, engaging in banter and gossip, letting them think that I'm just like them, that I'm normal.

But at some point I'll take a toilet break and not because I need to go, but because I need to take a break from pretending to be normal. To breathe deeply and stick my finger nails into the cut on my arm. To let myself cry quietly. And then blow my nose, and go back to my desk and laugh again.

Friday night I laughed a lot. I was happy like there wasn't any alternative. Slutting around and kissing boys like it was my last chance to ever kiss anyone. Feeling amazing, feeling desired, feeling hot. Feeling in control.

But I'm not. I've spent the last two days recovering in my bed, not wanting to talk to anyone, or do anything. I feel like I'm in such a cycle of depression, where feeling depressed feels normal, where self-pity and self-hatred seem to exist in equal measure, that I almost seem to be enjoying the wallowing. It's like I've lost touch with reality, that the darkness that surrounds and envelops me when I'm alone is the only real thing, and the pretending when I'm at work, or out with friends is the illusion.

It's over 6 months since we split up. In 3 weeks he'll be married. I'm turning into some kind of sad Miss Havisham type character who simply can't move on, and can't accept that it's over. When I was His_kitten, I knew who I was. I can't seem to find myself again, I don't know how.