As the royal wedding takes place today, I’m left feeling slightly saddened by the fact that I am alone.
It’s a bit like that feeling you get on Valentine’s Day; when everyone who is in a relationship go out for meals together and I’m left reeling by the fact that my ex was already married when he met me.
I’m not bitter. Far from it. But it really doesn’t help when you’re feeling like a used rag, and other people’s privilege is plastered all over social media and the TV.
I guess it’s the men I have dated. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I relied on them for affection and protection as I suffer from anxiety. But in return for my own love they gave me sadness. None of them ever loved me. I was a commodity to them. They leave me black and blue whilst they enjoy their lives. Well, they’re the ones who left me. In the end, everyone always does. It’s probably due to my insecurities. But each time someone walks away it leaves me wondering; what is wrong with me?
One of them told me one day, as I continued to fall madly in love with him, that I cost him more than a prostitute. There was no safety harness then as I continued to plummet to a certain kind of death.
Why do I care so much? Marriage really isn’t at the top of my list. As I unpack my feelings I realise it’s because I feel inadequate. I feel worthless. And it’s these feelings that anxiety constantly reminds me to feel. And not just with the people who I form relationships in my life. It’s also my professional life too.
Anxiety is that old, bitter man who stands above me whispering evil nothings to me, as a stark reminder that I am insignificant in the grand scheme of things. A small pawn in a world that couldn’t care less if I wasn’t here.
And as I continue to battle my feelings amongst the torn and broken relationships I’ve had with the people who have used me and left me, meanwhile a prince is about to make the beautiful woman he loves a duchess and his wife.
And all I can do is, well, cry.