Record Highs

It’s been an interesting past few weeks.

My day 500 passed with relative ease. I went to my parents’ place, played with my step-nephews, and had a relaxing day. It was a good day. Thinking over what’s happened in 500 days… it’s a bit daunting. I’m happy with how I spent that 500th day.

But my last week has been especially rough.

No meds. My meds have been too expensive. I’m also not the biggest fan of them. They work, but they’re not great. I don’t know if I should even say they work.

I take Effexor and Fetzima in the morning with propranolol or lorazepam (depending on my anxiety levels that day) in the morning. Propranolol again midday. Latuda and propranolol or lorazepam in the evening.

While for some, this amount of pills is nothing. I have very little to complain about. For me, this is overwhelming. To take this many pills and see such mediocre results is upsetting. The cost of the medication itself is more than I’m willing and able to spend for the results I’m getting.

I see the psychiatrist Monday. Hopefully all goes well.

Two of those 5 medications are new. I’m not really up for being a guinea pig.

For now, I have samples.

To continue onto this week, Calvin is our next topic.

He told me the wrong date of his flight. Now we’re arguing over when I come pick him up. My desire is to pick him up and drive straight back to Iowa (since I have his car). He would much rather take his time and spend the whole day Saturday driving to Iowa and the whole day Sunday driving back to Indiana.

I just don’t want to drive down to Bloomington. That’s my boarder. IN-67 is a devil and I’m not driving it. I don’t think I have the patience for it right now.

We’ve just been at odds I feel since he left. He chose an inopportune time to talk about a serious matter and it ended up triggering me to bring me back to my previous mental state. Amazing how one person has that power over my emotional health.

My anxiety has been at a record high since October of 2013. That night alone I had 3 panic attacks. I’ve been struggling again with my depression at a different level. I have something so great and fantastic with this guy and I’m completely terrified that it’s all going to vanish in a blink.

I don’t even know what we’re arguing about at this point. His poor communication skills? My high maintenance? His hesitation? My eagerness?

My dad was telling me about how he thinks that one person is always more invested in a relationship than the other. In most heterosexual relationship cases, he’s noticed it’s the woman who’s more invested.

I don’t know what Calvin wants out of this relationship. Does he want it to be his last? Does he want to leave that door open? Is he too confused to know what he wants? I should ask.

I’m just so tired. It’s time to rest for now. Until later.


Day 89/499

Today is day 89.

This is in reference to my “90 Days” post.

I felt like 90 days would be transformative. In some ways, they have been.

I’ve worked out at least 5 days a week for the last 2 weeks. I’ve already noticed some changes in my body. Right now, I’m at the heaviest I’ve ever been.

It’s a great outlet for my anxiety. God knows I’ve had a lot of that the last few weeks.

Calvin’s back in Hong Kong. And we left on absolutely horrible terms.

I don’t want to talk to him, but all I want to do is talk to him. I feel like when he’s in Hong Kong, he can avoid me. He does avoid me. He has all of these reasons to avoid me and I can’t say shit about it. His time there is precious and I have to be understanding of that.

We have this elephant in the room.

It’s hard, cross-cultural relationships. Trying to fit someone into your unique lifestyle. When we fight, that’s usually what we fight about.

Our last fight makes me feel like I did all those months ago when we first started seeing each other romantically. It’s the exact same thing and I know I will not feel okay until we address it.

Calvin decided the night before he left for Hong Kong that it would be a great time to discuss how he feels pressured by me to get engaged soon and how he thinks we have so much to work on as a couple before we do get engaged.

He’s right in that we have a lot to work on. I’m not sure exactly what I’ve said to make him feel pressured, but I don’t doubt his words. I’ve probably said something and it was taken out of context to mean “I want to get engaged right now”. And I’ll be honest, sometimes a girl gets excited seeing that many of her friends getting engaged or married and wants that too. I’m sure I say more than I mean, to which I am at fault.

But then, typical Victoria takes things above and beyond. When I hear something like that, I take it as “I’ll never see us at that point”.

This is why I feel like I did back then at that one October.

You’re unsure of us again. It drives me crazy. I want to push you away because if you can’t be certain, then I’ll never be certain. I need certainty. I need to know if things are going somewhere. I want to pull you closer because I’m scared if I push you away, you’ll never come back.

And I know I’m right about that.

So here I am, yo-yoing with the idea that it must be me that’s wrong.

I’m so sick of this.

Of course, after that fight to which it seemed in a way that we had come to a conclusion, I had 3 of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in a very long time. I sat on his futon for the first one, curled up in the Iowa blanket I made for him. I soaked the seat in tears as I tried to rock myself into oblivion. I couldn’t take it anymore. I went back into the bedroom, still crying a mess, and woke him up.

He was 100% completely lost.

He brought me tissues as I poured my deepest insecurities out. I kept saying, “I’ll never be enough. I feel like I’ll never be good enough for you. I can’t keep doing this to myself.” He sat next to me, sometimes holding me. I think he might have said some comfort words, but I don’t remember them. They didn’t really comfort though as I proceeded to have 2 more panic attacks in front of him. He freaked. I remember him getting up to leave me at some point to decompress in the bathroom. At least, that’s what I think he was doing.

I then proposed that we breakup. He said no.

My therapist says to focus on that part. That’s the important part. He doesn’t want to breakup with me.

But I want to breakup with him.

He doesn’t know how to take care of me at my worst when he’s seen it before and been told how to handle it. I don’t feel loved. I feel avoided. I feel bad about myself. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s more about what he is or isn’t doing or if it’s more about my feelings.

Even if he had been doing things differently, would I be feeling different? Would I feel more secure and happy in our relationship? Is this about me being enough or him being enough?

Or is this me trying to give him an excuse again?

Happiness is a fickle things.

89 days ago, I had high hopes.

Who would have thought day 499 would be met with this much sorrow and sadness.


I wasn’t a first choice for him. I was a second. It ended up being the longest relationship I’ve had yet.

He told me that if he had a dice, she had three sides, I had two sides, and other girl had one side.

I was okay with that though. I remember the small pang of sadness in my heart. I was okay though. It never really bothered me.

He was still in love with another girl. I was still in love with another boy. He called me out on several occasions and I did to him too. In the end, we realized it was silly for us to keep pretending. The only honest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s been the shortest.

I settled. I knew I could do better and loved him because he loved me. He was great. He was wonderful. But I wasn’t happy. I knew I could move on quickly and I did. I latched on to someone else. But I never really let go. Not really. He loved me too much and it felt too damn good.

I don’t know you.

I don’t know how to characterize this or you or anything having to do with you.

I’m scared.

I don’t know you.

I don’t know you.

I don’t know you.

I know what she did to you. And what she did to you. I vowed to never do that.

But I’m scared.

And I don’t know you.