Cause of depression?

Of course, I didn't get that job. But also, this time last year I had taken a deep breath, wrenched myself out of a terrible relationship, and turned to face the biggest shitpile I'd ever created for myself.

I was going to write this on my public blog, but it really is too undignified. When I started making the laundry list of casualties, it was too obvious and sad. I lost the trust, of pretty much everyone I loved. I LOST people I loved. I remember incredibly painful moments, small moments that sting in my memory like a deep papercut...when Steph and Chris looked at me apprehensively the first time I was home after the move, and he asked, "so you ok? you yourself now?"

I remember that awful Vegas night, drunk as fuck and crying to Eric, feeling him tug down my dress to cover my exposed thighs, seeing him looking so angry and intense through my tear filled eyes.

I lost...a lot. Looking back, I wonder how I survived. And it was literally by crawling into a hole and nursing my wounds in a quiet place before tentatively emerging in society again. Thank god it was a peacful, quiet place like Benvenue, where I could close the door and cry every now and then. Thank god for Jess and Honnie, who were close but not close enough to have been hurt by me, who took me out and helped me back to myself.

But geezus. Look at what I lost, dear God! I lost my friends, my family, and myself. It was a slow and miraculous process to find myself again- and I still am- finding small pieces of myself in surprising, random places.

My family- Mom and Steph- is trusting me again because of all the hard work I put in. Steph said "love you" on the phone today, quite naturally, and I felt a tinge of relief and warmth. And the other day, I heard Mom say on the phone "if we agree on a time, she'll be up" and I felt all those exhausting early hours of waking up for her had paid off.

But what have I lost that I have not recovered?

His name would be Eric.

God I was an ass. I was perusing my blog, reminiscing painfully on the end of Adam, and then I was enjoying my "recovery" posts, and then I saw that post of the AIM convo with Eric. I was hoping to peg something on him (lol, right?) because I vaguely remembered him listing things about me that he hated.

Then I read it again, and now all I feel is renewed surges of guilt. He said he hated how I believed things that weren't (my paranoia, which everybody hates) and (here's the kicker) that he hated seeing me not follow his advice, and mess up.

And he mentions how I wouldn't go on the trip and prove myself a good friend.

So pretty much I've trashed it completely. That's the inelegant truth.

But I know- and I am grounded enough to stem the drama here- that he is a good enough guy that he'll still try. We might have the occasional lunch when he comes back, but I won't hope for more. I don't deserve more. I killed one of the best friendships- THE best friendship, probably- and maybe even one of the best possible relationships of my life.

But again, my realistic self murmurs of a moment where I realize how ordinary and maybe inextraordinary he is.

I think the truth is...that Eric has become a symbol for what I lost.

And I'm only realizing this now.

Eric symbolizes the content, idealistic, innocent friendship and identity that was completely and utterly destroyed by my relationship with Adam. After...everything...that happened, all of that is gone. I still have my idealism, I still have hope, but I will never be that wide eyed, stupidly spontaneous girl again.

I will never believe in complete and utter trust. I will always suspect a darker nature in everyone I meet. And...I can physically FEEL it...I can never love, or trust as I did...ever again. There is a sliver of darkness, a scar of hurt that lines my heart. And I fear of how long it will take- and if it will ever- really heal.

It's only been a year.

I shouldn't expect to be completely recovered. I should be grateful to be such a confident, relatively content version of my older self.

But we're never satisfied lol.