Comic: Elastics

Excuses

Excuses I have made to avoid taking steps to lose weight:

• I feel okay.
• I've never had high cholesterol.
• BMI's not real, anyway - I'm 4'11", but I haven't weighed 100 pounds since before puberty.
• Those clothes are old anyway.
• I still look fine in black. I'll just buy all black.
• I don't need to be taking pictures of myself anyway. I should be taking pictures of the world around me!
• It's cold out and there's a bus coming.
• It's cold out and Uber will only cost $7.
• It's cold out and I'm afraid I'll slip on the ice.
• It's cold out and my body needs more carbs to stay warm.
• It's cold out and hot chocolate.
• I should eat all this food I have before buying new food, you know, to save money.
• I could go to yoga after class but then I'd have to carry everything around.
• I could go to yoga in the middle of my prep day but then I'd throw off my grading groove.
• I could go to yoga in the middle of my living room floor but I can't find my mat.
• I could just doing jumping jacks in the middle of the floor right now but I've already showered.
• That gym is too expensive.
• The food for that recipe is too expensive.
• My partners love my body, even if I don't.
• I feel okay.

• I feel okay.

Full Health

For the past six years, I've been playing the real-life RPG called "Poly Adventures." I was pretty good at it too, until last year. I started coming upon harder levels and meaner monsters. I found my weapons cache to be sorely empty, and my emotional health bar always empty or nearing empty. I had a lot of people trying to help me play through those levels, but for a while, nothing seemed to work. I never lost any lives, and I never thought I'd stop playing, but there were times in there that I didn't see how my health could ever get back to full. I lost interest in activities and almost lost friends.

But like many games, it takes time and practice to get through those hard levels and onto better ones. I started finding things that gave me more health, like therapy, medicine, and activities I enjoyed. I especially found art, which I had dabbled with for a long time but never really put the time or effort into getting better. Suddenly, I became enthusiastic to better myself at something, and the health just kept coming back. The better I felt about my own emotional health, the more I felt I could tackle the challenges I had with friends, and everything started to fall into place. 

Yesterday, as I sat around the living room with two of my closest friends, I realized this was the most fun and easy level I'd played in a long time. The hard levels I'd played over the course of last year, though still remembered, were not affecting my ability to play through this one. In fact, I probably have become better at the game as time has gone on. I'm even ready to meet new romantic allies to play new levels with, and know that I wouldn't have been able to do so without that expert-level experience. 

I'm not actually that good at video games, but this one is thankfully not the kind you need to learn how to beat. You just need to learn how to keep at it, even though the tough levels. Because it's a pretty fun game, and I'd like to keep playing it for years to come.

A million, billion thanks to Make 8-Bit Art! It's super fun and everyone should check it out.

Homesick

For a while now, I've had a blog post in my drafts called "My Poly Family." In it, I gush about how happy I am that I finally feel like I have a community. That I'm so happy to be friends with my partners' other partners, partners of some type with many of my friends, and close with most everyone else involved. But for some reason, that post never got written. I think it was because I knew there was a dark side to such inter-connectivity, and since Adam and I broke up, I've found it: he is still close with our community, I am still close with our community, but he and I are no longer operating together within it. In fact, it's hard to see him in the same contexts, which is why we've both been treading lightly when choosing which social gatherings to attend.

I know a lot of people have already gone through this, maybe in high school or college. Friend groups, especially back in those insulated environments, all dated around, or so I'm remembering from my own experiences. But many relationships in high school were fluid for me, and I only dated one person in college (my ex), so I've never had this experience before. In fact, other than those high school flings, I've never ended a significant relationship in the same town as the other person. So the only way I knew how to get over someone was to have a lot of space from them, which is quite easy when that person is across the country.

It's much harder when that person is in your living room, hanging out with someone you live with and not you.

Everyone is being great about this, though. Friends are being sensitive when talking about hanging out with him, and we've decided it would be best if we all socialized with him outside of our house for a while. I'm also trying to be better about knowing when I do or don't want to know what he's been up to. He and I are even talking and trying to make plans to hang out as friends. But I can't stop thinking about how much easier this would all be if one of us had just left town.

I don't know how to re-introduce myself into my community without constantly bringing up old memories. I know that it will take time, just as it took time to get over those guys who moved to other states. And I know that things are probably already getting better. But as you know from previous blog posts, I suck at patience. I want to be in those photos of my community having fun together with Adam. I want it to be a pleasant surprise when he comes over to hang out with my other friends, not something that shakes me. And most of all, I want to go out with Joel, Adam, and Adam's wife again. I know it will never be the same, but missing that, right now, hurts almost as much as missing all that relationshippy stuff.

I want to enjoy my poly family again. I want to come home. But I don't know how yet.

Love

Space

Postmortem

I've needed to write for a few weeks now, but haven't. It just didn't feel like the right time. Maybe I wanted to wait until my feelings weren't as raw, so that my post wouldn't just sound like a big jumbled mess of pain. Maybe I was trying to spare others' feelings by being a bit more private than usual. Maybe I just didn't know what to say. I still don't. But I know that ultimately it helps me to write about and process experiences, and sometimes it helps others, too, so I'm going to try.

Three weeks ago, I made the decision to break up with Adam. I was visiting my parents at the time, and miserable in the knowledge that I had to wait another week to meet with him to talk about where things stood. I didn't want to do it over email; even though most of our communication happened online, I felt that this conversation should be in person. But the longer I realized I had to wait, the more miserable I felt. So while my mother was out at a meeting one afternoon, I sat at a local coffee shop and typed the email, knowing I was making the right decision but still heartbroken in it. I hit send. It was done.

A week later, I met him on a park bench near the dinner spot where we intended to eat. Neither of us knew if this was a good idea, and for the first fifteen minutes, I was convinced it wasn't. I voiced serious doubts, sobbing, trying not to look him in the eye. But as we sat there longer, and I allowed myself to look at how sad he was too, I calmed down. We decided that since we were already there, and starving, and wanted to still be in each others' lives, we might as well eat.

For two blissful hours, we stopped talking about the breakup and just were. We ate, drank, caught up from the previous few weeks, and laughed. It might have been the beer, but I felt happier than I'd felt in weeks. And it wasn't because I thought we were getting back together, it was because I knew I wasn't losing him for good. I saw a spark of what we should have had all along - an arrangement that was comfortable for both of us, that allowed us to enjoy each other in the moment and not worry about how we were not being fulfilled or not fulfilling each others' wants and needs.

Since then, it's been a challenge. I've always needed space from someone after a breakup, and have always gotten it - my last two significant breakups were a result of distance, so while I missed talking to them, I could control exactly how much I wanted to know about their lives post-me. 

But this is different. Not only is Adam in my friend group, he's close with who I'm close with, in ways I wish I was, and I'm reminded of this even if no one intends to remind me. He is still in the extended poly family of friends and partners I used to feel was a comfort, and now I realize is a double-edged sword. My close-knit groups are wonderful for support through the bad times and fun through the good, but can also deny me the space I badly need to get over heartbreak. 

Because of this, I have to be cautious, withdraw when I'm feeling I need more space, stay in when I don't think I'll have as much fun at that party he'll be at, and request discretion of those who we're both close to. I have to learn how to handle a breakup all over again, and maybe that's why I waited so long to write about it: I have no idea what I'm doing. 

The only thing I know how to do is strengthen other relationships, focus on other interests, make other plans; see Adam when I feel I can see him, talk to him when I feel I can talk to him, and retreat when I'm feeling hurt. Learn as I go. Ask for help. Cry sometimes. And trust that sometimes, the only way to save one type of relationship is to end another one. It's still something I'm only telling myself and not feeling. But I guess if I'd been good at telling myself how to feel, I wouldn't have had to end the relationship in the first place.