Yesterday, after my early morning entry, I went back and forth between my bed, trying to sleep, and my computer, trying not to look at anything of Matt's (his diary, his cam). Trying not to check my email, or my IM to see if he was online. Pitiful huh? =)

If not for the Xanax, I doubt I'd have slept at all. I know this is bad, to rely on a drug to numb me, but all I want to do is sleep, because then I can't think. And that is so blissful, to have but an hour or two of no awareness, no agony, no angst.

And yes, most of this is of my own making, I know. I try to remember that Matt told me a week ago (or was it two?) that he didn't want to give up on us, that he wanted to try to work through his emotions, and while I have no idea whether what he is dealing with now has anything to do with then, I have to have faith in what he told me before.

I keep reminding myself that I trust him, and that what I am dealing with now is my own fears, of abandonment and of rejection, and that maybe these days alone are something I need for myself as well.

Because ultimately, the only person who can fill up this emptiness I feel is me. I have to make myself and my life a priority right now. And know that any relationship I have with Matt is a bonus and a blessing; the icing on the cake, not the cake itself.

  

Things just got progressively worse for me last night, and I finally made an e-mail "call for help". Nick came through with flying colors for me, and chatted with me online to help keep me from jumping overboard. I explained how overwhelmed I was feeling, and Nick, in his dry but funny way, managed to kick some sense into me.

It didn't quite keep me from making a late-night call to Matt, hoping to speak to him, but I still went to bed feeling not quite so bleak. Although this morning, I woke up totally sick to my stomach, probably from Xanax overload. Now, at 6:27 pm, it still hasn't settled down, and I suppose I deserve the punishment I'm getting.

Nick is mainly concerned about my health, because he knows about all the previous problems I've had and how much they mimic the Fibromyalgia that he himself has. Plus the "depression paralysis", as he calls it, seems to be a problem.

  

I'm also really burned because less than a week ago, Matt made plans with me to come over this weekend. Two days later, we pretty much stopped speaking, but it took me another couple of days to figure that out. And he seemed annoyed that I would actually take that personally. When you've spoken to someone practically every single night, and then it stops suddenly, how else are you supposed to take it other than "personally"?

It's amazing how he can be like a spigot, turning his emotions off so completely. Did he just stop missing me? I find that hard to believe. But perhaps it is good that I find out now that this is what he's capable of, to turn so cold and distant after being warm and affectionate less than 24 hours earlier.

But I'll be damned if I will give him the satisfaction of my getting angry, and then he can feel justified in getting angry back. I will not make the first contact, but I won't be rude to him if he contacts me.

Of course, who am I kidding? He won't talk to me first, although that would be the most admirable thing he could do at this point. It would be nice if a guy could demonstrate some courage for a change, and be the first to try to patch things up.

I won't be holding my breath.

  

I'm watching my visitor logs and I'm amazed. Rather than talking to me, why don't we just hit refresh repeatedly to see if I'm speaking on the page? It's both amusing and sad. If you want to know my thoughts, or how I'm doing, ask me dammit. It's not like I'm the one who stopped the conversation.