No blinders, and no blocking

One of the first things I saw this morning at 5:30 while idly browsing my Facebook notifications on my phone, woken up yet again by a yapping dog that is a charming new audio installment in the neighborhood, was A's new profile picture on Facebook, in which she and her new person are together, in that typical couples selfie pose, looking maybe serene or in love or well, whatever. She had commented on the same thread on a mutual former student's timeline as I had commented on, and it showed up in my notifications. 

Here they are in all of their romantic bliss, in case you've been wondering what they look like. Jk. I have no idea who these dingeldodies are. 

You are probably asking-- why don't you block her and the new guy so you don't stumble onto these reminders?

This is an excellent question. Believe me, I have asked myself the same thing repeatedly since March. It's funny, because I blocked both of them while A and I were still living together, three and a half months ago. And now, after such a strangely surreal and painful series of events, I am not blocking them.  

So this gets to a lot of different perspectives regarding reality, the new social structures and experiences made possible by social media, what it means to have mutual friends with someone who is problematic (one way or the other), and, maybe most importantly, the general theme of attachment, in all of its gory glory. 

My goal in recovery from this relationship is not to forget and move on. It is to learn, grow and perceive as much as possible and stay put. I refuse to run. I can't stare directly at the sun all day, but I can remember exactly where it is and let there be reminders of it. 

For example, what does it mean about me that I invested several years of my one wild and precious life in what I was deluded into thinking was an intimate and real relationship with a person who, a little more than three months out, publicly posts a couples selfie with her new partner? Who was I in reality, all along that way, where I trusted and relied on a person who discarded me as soon as it was convenient for her to do so, without compassion, kindness or any sense of continuity or care? What does it say about me that I was even willing to stay with this person in the midst of her new relationship and work on "accepting" it, just so we could stay together? And most importantly in this context, what have been all of my subsequent reactive, performative and theatrical behaviors and decisions and fantasies in reaction to the plain facts?

Here's the thing-- taking any action at all relative to what A has decided to do with her life (including writing this post, to some degree, although one has to move from A to B no pun intended somehow) means that I am acting on my remaining attachment to the situation. As much as love is attachment, all of the so-called "negative" emotions are attachment. Reactivity is a symptom of attachment. Wanting to erase parts of reality is a sign of still being attached to those very real parts. 

This heart is dramatically anatomically incorrect.

And none of those actions do jack shit to reduce or eliminate the attachment. Instead, for example, blocking her and her new person is an action *in support* of remaining attached, for a couple different reasons. One: if I were working on eliminating the attachment, I would not be interested in what A has decided to do with her life in any entangled or reactive way. Two: what I am calling "reality" (for convenience's sake) always (and I mean always, when I pay attention) conspires to set me free. After the initial cognitive gut reaction to the picture of "what the actual fuck who are *those* people?" wore off, a series of reconciliations have already settled in-- in the shadow space between attachment and non-attachment, which is the underworld trip through what is absolutely necessary to reach acceptance. 

I refuse to live my life compartmentalized by the choices of others. Facts is facts. Blocking, in my case, in this particular case, is a symptom of my codependent dysfunction, trying to construct my emotional life based on the choices other people have made. 

Seeing the picture let me know exactly where things stand, again. And, frankly, provided a salutary corrective for the weird imaginings in my funhouse imagination and exposed in me some strange wandering thoughts. As time ineluctably unfurls farther and farther away from the harrowing breakup, my odd coping mechanisms begin to tell some fucked up stories. "Maybe they have discovered they made a mistake. Maybe my low opinion of the new person will be justified and I'll be vindicated. Maybe she'll face the shitty and fucked up way she discarded me and be destroyed by inconsolable remorse. Maybe if I just forget that she hooked up with my first year college roommate, I'll be happy and free again." You know, all these fantasies the ego cooks up in reaction to wrongs, perceived or real. 


Or you look for funny couples selfies on the internet and find this article from Cosmopolitan and feel a vague thrill of schadenfreude.

Sure, blinders and blocks create a safe, trigger free and protected space, absolutely necessary for recuperation when very real harm, trauma and downward spirals are a strong possibility. I'm aware of this acutely, of course, and who knows, maybe blocking is the right thing to do *for myself* after all. But for now, it's in my face (moderately and at widely separated intervals-- I'm not going looking, that's for sure). 

My counselor, in fact, says it seems like the theme in my life right now is "Everything is in your face." You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free. The truth, the truth, the goddamned truth. It's what I need to stay in recovery. Otherwise, I'm going to delude myself again. I'm going to harm myself and others based on the unexamined, selfish, dishonest and manipulative patterns of my past. 

Not running. Not hiding. Not forgetting the truth. Looking squarely at the whole deal. Freedom.