The Girl Without A Face

A lot has changed the past few weeks. It feels like I’m being pushed out of what has become my comfort zone, and am being forced to actually start living again. Finding out my ex passed away suddenly and tragically kick-started this process. I don’t know whether to feel guilty about that or thankful. All I know is it was time to get out of my isolation. I had a whole story in my mind, specifically for him and how he was living his life, and come to find out he’s not even alive. I removed myself from every space I ever entered, every person I ever knew. I confined myself to my loneliness and I was terrified to let go.

I’m not sure if this seems insensitive, but soon after I found out about his passing, I downloaded hinge. Maybe I was looking to somehow ease the shock of this person not being around anymore. Having to let go of the fantasy I created that told me one day we’d reconnect. Maybe somewhere in my subconscious the loss of the fantasy forced me to live my real life.

Along with downloading the dating app, I felt the strongest urge to reach out to one of my old friends. We worked together, she has a daughter the same age as my son. I’ve known her for years, longer than a decade. When I was breaking down mentally, I disappeared from everyone I ever knew. I couldn’t even sit up, how could I possibly have been a friend to anyone? Then during my healing process, I had to work through the anger of feeling like no one I had been friends with even thought about me at all. It was a harsh reality to come to terms with the idea I had always been alone.

When I reached out to her, she responded back almost immediately. She initiated a plan to meet for coffee. When we met it was as if nothing had changed, except everything had. Even though I went through something that rocked my world, changed all my thought processes, have been processing trauma for the past three years, at the end of the day I’m still me. It reminded me that I did make friends in my old life.

That same week, I was grocery shopping, and another one of my old friends was walking right towards me. We stopped and talked in the store for 30 minutes, I asked of she still had my number. We texted every day since then, we went for a long walk and coffee yesterday. She said she thought about me but didn’t know what happened. She thought I just didn’t want to be friends with her anymore.

Both of these friends have another mutual friend that I used to hang out with as well. They both suggested that we all hang out. I was being welcomed back in as if I had never left. It had been three years, but they treated me like nothing changed. They both had their fair share of hardships during this time too. We caught up on it all. I realized my loneliness was mostly my fault.

I began talking to someone last week from the dating app. He’s up for lieutenant, but as a cop he seems oddly empathetic. He is trained in mental health protocols and teaches it to new cadets coming in. My grandpa was a sheriff, my dad a firefighter. I can understand his struggles a little better than others. We talked for three hours on the phone a week later. He suggested a video call the next night. I’m forcing myself to muster up the courage to show my face and potentially not be good enough. It’s been 3 years since I even tried to date someone. 3 years since I’ve had a hug. 3 years since I even remotely had somewhat of a crush. He says things to let me know he’s in no rush. I like to think he can tell it’ll take me a little longer than normal to get comfortable.

This isn’t a post to say this process has gone off without a hitch. I’ve had to silently work through major triggers coming up on my end. Dealing with the nerves of being seen for the first time jn 3 years. Feelings of worthiness. I thought I got past this? I’m being shown where I am in reality, not where I think I am in my head.

The main difference between myself now and myself prior to the breakdown is I now have tools. I now have awareness. I have been seeing a therapist. I have been working for so long to get to know myself. I take responsibility for my own triggers and realize that a lot of times I was the problem. Sure, my reactions are a result of my experiences, but I needed that time away to process everything. To gain clarity and self-awareness. To take responsibility for me.

I like to think I have some higher power assistance, maybe it’s just the new voice in my head that is supportive and understanding vs. the voice I used to have which was the judgemental, critical voice of my mother. What I do know for certain is that my time in total isolation is coming to a close. I don’t see myself ever going back to talking to no one for months. I did the work I needed to do alone. I figured out and processed my past traumas. Now I get to see what is on the other side of my metaphorical death. I finally feel myself rising again.