Update

We are crazy stupid happy in love.
My parents love him, his best friend loves me.
When his lease is up, he's moving in.
He lives at my house when the Kid is with his dad. The Kid likes him, but is being a little wary because his brand new step-mom is NOT a kid person. So the kid is nervous about sharing mom,and we're moving slowly in that respect.

My job and my ex husband are driving me crazy, but I'm happy anyway. I have what people look for their whole lives.

The Weekend Boyfriend

From May to July I was single and living it up, which for me means juggling a few guys, getting attached to no one, repeat, repeat, repeat until I feel like a slut and settle down for a relationship.

Sammy is out, Bentley is in.
Bentley is in the military, my height, solid body, a cute accent, he could keep up with witty banter and had an unusual piercing which was kind of a fun novelty.

Twice a month, he would come over and spend the weekend with me. He missed cooking so we'd go to the grocery store and he'd cook for me all weekend. He did a few minor repairs around the house, snuggled on the couch and watched Game of Thrones with me and we had ridiculous chemistry.

We always intended for this to be a a friends with benefits arrangement but he liked getting out of the barracks and I liked being cooked for. Bentley was due to get out of the military in October and would be moving back to his family in the south and figuring out what to do with his life. There was absolutely no long term potential which was fine with me.

But then Bentley started texting me. All. The. Time. When he had long shifts at work, when he was away on temporary duty assignments, when he was bored, when he woke up, and on and on and on. He's a totally nice guy, but this is not the deal we made. I was willing to be his friend, but not interested in being his emotional support system around the clock.

I had the kid for a weekend, then was out of town for a week, then kept delaying seeing Bentley again. How do you break up with a friend you fuck?
I decided to do it over text because it wasn't a real relationship. I told him we couldn't sleep together any more, and after assuring him that he hadn't upset me in any way, he was fine with it. Thank god. And we legitimately are friends now. We still text, I'm guilty of dodging him a bit, but he's funny and interesting and I don't regret the weekends we spent together.

John's Wedding

My ex husband, John, is getting married.
At the end of May, he started seeing a girl.
A week later he told me he was introducing said girl to our son.
Two weeks after that, they got engaged.


If you're tracking, and the timeline is correct, he's known her about a month.

The wedding is next month.
Their wedding falls on a weekend when I would normally have the kid.
I asked if we should trade weekends. The Bride to Be, or Princess Elsa as she will henceforth be known, was quick to jump in with, "We don't want to switch weekends."

Instantly in my head, I think, look at this bitch trying to cut Connor our of the wedding, not that he will care.

"We will be busy with wedding stuff but want Connor to be the ring bearer. We thought you could bring him and come to the wedding. Do you want to come to the wedding? We want you to come to the wedding."

WeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWeddingWedding

There, with the two of them beaming at me with the fervor of cult members, chanting wedding, I acquiesce and say I'll do whatever they need me to do.

That was last night.
This morning I wake up and know, there is NO way I can go to this thing.

While we were getting divorced, we attended, separately, a wedding for mutual friends. Seeing John up there as a groomsman was very, very hard. Having John's brother and sister-in-law play with my kid, but ignore my very existence was crushing. Sitting at a table by myself with a 3 year old while 70 happy people celebrated around me was miserable.

There is no fucking way I'm going to John's wedding.

Setting aside the theories that he's inviting me to throw this in my face, or that this is to show off what a "great post-divorce relationship" we have, or to have me as a free babysitter for our son, there is no way I want to spend a weekend this way.

Hung Up

I remember all the faults that the relationship between Jack and I had. I remember them clearly and they are a good portion of my blog posts from Fall/Winter 2015. And I don't miss the dynamic of being made to feel like I was an obstacle because I existed.
But I miss our friendship. We had fun together when things were good.

These guys lately....they don't make me laugh. One is smart, very very smart but less funny. One is smart and funny, but moving away, and his politics are problematic. One is smart and funny but lives across the country, he wanted to come visit but I'm just not that into him. And the rest are dumb diversions.

I'm always surprised with how much shit I can get away with. I'm not a ton of fun. Frankly, I'm suicidal. I spent last Thursday on the phone with a crisis line. But they still ask me out for dates. Not even hook ups, but actual "Can I take you to dinner?" dates.
It's absurd.

So

I had a list of things I wanted to write about. I've been up to shenanigans. John has thrown like 8 curveballs this month.

But all I can think about is how much I don't want to exist anymore.

I have my THIRD sleep study later this week. Weeks ago I had to come off Prozac for this sleep study.

And I wish I was dead.

I'm not a good mom. I'm not a good employee. I can't maintain relationships, friendly or romantic. I feel helpless and hopeless. I don't want this life anymore.

The next person to tell me that things will get better, they'll get better when I can take Prozac again this weekend.

But no. That's not the case at all.

I've reached out.
I've taken the meds.
I've seen therapists.
I struggle and try. And I have. Every Goddamn Day. since I was 16.
I'm so tired.
I get up and show up. I graduated from college. I got two degrees. I've held a job with the same firm for 7 years. I've raised a child.
Don't you dare tell me that I need to hold on.
I have been exhausted and miserable for YEARS.
Motherfucking YEARS.
I don't want to do this anymore.

Yes, sure. My brain is a dick and telling me these things.
But guess what?
It always has and it always will.
My brain chemistry is wrong.
I'm put together wrong.
I'm not supposed to be.

Sammy

Sammy and I agreed we just want to have fun together. We meet on a week night and have dinner. We have a ton in common. His sister dropped out of the same college I dropped out of, we cheer for opposing teams but are similarly obsessed with sports, he seems nervous but nice.

We have dinner and then walk to another bar. We have a second drink. We go to my house and have a third drink. We get naked and I spend an hour lavishing attention on the most perfect cock and rock hard body I've ever been with. He is effusive with praise. Sammy calls me a slut, intending it to be part of dirty talk. Tears quietly flow but I keep going. He apologises, "I didn't mean it like that," "You aren't that word," "I'll never say that again." and on and on.

I know he's genuine. He couldn't have known that would have such an impact on me. I didn't know it would have such an impact on me.

We carry on. We finish. He apologizes more. I tell him its fine and I'd rather let the matter drop. When he leaves, Sammy kisses me on the cheek.

The next day we text filthy things to each other from work and Sammy tells me he craves my touch. He picks me up from work and we go to my house, to my shower, to my bed. He pushes my limits, makes requests of me. Some I agree to, some I don't. He doesn't press when I resist.

He wants to take pictures. You know, pictures. I agree but tell him, the pictures are taken with my phone so I control access to them and the pictures do not include my face. He eagerly agrees. He finishes and we watch a game before he leaves. I have work to do.

That night, he texts me asking for the pictures. I'm equal parts nervous and opportunistic. Our two encounters have been very...Sammy oriented. I tell him that tomorrow, its my turn, and if he's a good boy, the photos are his. Sammy thinks eagerly agrees.

Hours later, he's asking again. I remind him of the deal. Sammy insists. I demur. He pleads. I say no. He badgers. I tell him he's acting like a child. He tells me I'm playing games like his awful ex.

Wow.

I tell Sammy I'm uncomfortable. I'm not ready. I don't want to do this and want to delete them all anyway. He tells me he'll take care of me the next day. I tell him I don't want it.

The texts cease. I work myself into an anxious state. And argue with myself

"Now he'll never like me."
You should lose his number
"But he's so hot."
But he's pushy and mean and isn't' taking no for an answer.
"He did warn you he's a very sexual person."


I go back and forth. I send Sammy one picture. He tells me I'm a good girl.
I tell him I feel disgusting. He tells me "I won't share these with anyone else. If you are afraid of me judging you, I'm not."

But his judgment doesn't mean anything. Its not about fitting into the role he wants. Its about me being able to live with the choices I make.

Bye Brandon

This isn't working.

You don't tell someone you're in love with them after a month. It puts pressure on me to feel the same. And here I am, 3 months later, not in love, not falling in love, and sort of falling out of like.

I'm tired of being condescended to.
I'm tired of you over explaining unfunny jokes, and thereby making the joke even worse.
I'm tired of the way your beard gets in the way, of your complaints about your weight but inaction to change the situation, tired of trying to work around your...erm, shortcomings.

I regret giving you a key.
I regret coming to dinner with your family.
I regret letting you meet my family.

I don't know why I thought I could overlook so much. Like the way you wear basketball shorts everywhere, dates included.
That you spent 2 months on unemployment not looking for a job because you needed "a break."
That you lost the job you had when we met because you got drunk at a work event and put your arm around female coworkers and made them feel uncomfortable.
That you don't read, or follow the news, or politics, or anything that isn't prominently featured on FaceBook.
That you are such a picky eater that we could only go out for pizza or burgers.

You know how I know you're not in love with me? Because you're in love with the idea of me. Don't presume to tell me what makes me happy or doesn't.

***

So he came over. I told him it wasn't working. He pushed and pushed for me to tell him why. I finally told him I was tired of being condescended to and not feeling heard.
"Do you think that's just in how you're interpreting and hearing things though?"
So weird that I don't want to be in this relationship where I'm always wrong and you're always right.

"Are all your relationships this difficult?"
Pretty much. I'm stubborn, I'm fiery, at my own peril- I find it hard to shut up.
But I'm also funny, loving, kind, caring, and thoughtful.
And also not in love with you and not showing you my best self.

"I know you make rash, impulsive decisions. Is this what you really want?"
What a CONDESCENDING thing to say.

"Can we work on things?"
No.

"So this is it?"
Yes. I'm not going to string you along and tell you maybe things will be different in a month.

***

The other day, a man on the street told me to smile. I hate being told to smile. I think most women do. Please don't tell me what to do with my face. I don't walk around with a permanent grin because I'm not deranged.

But I smile because it was an instant reaction. My facial muscles betrayed my brain and my feminist sensibilities. Its also the easiest answer. Just smile so the strange man will leave you alone, leave you unharmed.

Later, as I recount the experience to Brandon, telling him how uncomfortable the experience was, he says, "Yeah, one time this hippy chick told me, 'You dropped your smile' to get me to smile."
This is not the same. This is not the same. This is not the same.
I tried to explain the power dynamic, the patriarchy bullshit, the inherent unease. Brandon is 6'4, built like a linebacker and has often worked security at bars and restaurants. I understand he probably hasn't felt unsafe walking down the street. But the part that pissed me off was his unwillingness to listen to me. What does it hurt to listen?

***


After 45 minutes of bullshit, he left. And I laid on the couch for about an hour, playing on my phone. And then I got up and got back to work because I have shit to do.
I woke up the next day feeling lighter and freer than I have in a long time.
I don't have any dating apps on my phone.
I don't have a stable of guys I'm talking to.
I have my job, my business, my son, my trips, my pets, my friends, my weekends and evenings all my own.
I can spend my time however I want. I answer to no one.

And won't have anyone mansplaining jokes to me anymore.

Ghost

When Jack would talk about his exes, a rare occurrence, he would say,
"but I don't want to speak ill of the dead."

I wonder if I'm dead to him now too.
Or if that was just girls that hurt him.
Did I hurt him?

Brandon 3

What am I doing with this man. Every other day, I'm thinking, "I'm in love, have a key to my home, live me us, love me like this forever." And then on the other days, "The sexual attraction is ....lacking, for fuck's sake stop talking, please get a job or a hobby or fucking something to do besidesfollow me like a puppy."

Its not good. I know I'm making this worse. In a phase where I thought it was love, I introduced Brandon to the kid. And my mom. And had dinner with his mom and brother. And agreed to a trip together next month.

Now I'm obligated to stay for a while.

He has like, 2 flaws. Nothing major. Nothing that should prohibit me from being crazy about this man. But I'm not, most of the time. The idea of starting over exhausts me. I don't want all the damn dating apps. I don't want shit first dates and awkward conversation. I don't want to throw this fish back only to find out there is nothing wrong with him, its what's wrong with me that makes me feel this way.

Lemonade

Beyonce is getting me through some shit y'all.

I know its not "for me." But I love it, its art, its important, and I love it.

I had my heart fucking broken in January. Crushed. Wrecked. Destroyed. In a way completely different than the other times. In a way that makes me question and wonder and worry. And I'm different. He'll forget me and I'll forget him, but I'm a different person now. Harder, tougher, thicker.

I am the dragon breathing fire
Beautiful mane I'm the lion
Beautiful man I know you're lying
I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying
You ain't trying hard enough
You ain't loving hard enough
You don't love me deep enough
We not reaching feats enough
Blindly in love, I fucks with you
'Til I realize, I'm just too much for you
I'm just too much for you
-Don't Hurt Yourself

And your heart is broken cause I walked away
Show me your scars and I won't walk away
-Sandcastles

And I've been hustling like a champ this year:

She pushing herself day and night
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
Oh, stars in her eyes
She fights and she sweats those sleepless nights
But she don't mind, she loves the grind
-Six Inch Heels

I'ma keep running
Cause a winner don't quit on themselves
-Freedom



But can I get back to a place where I let someone in?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I don't know what I'm doing. I'm almost 30. I'm not ready or excited about it. I don't feel like I'm on track. I don't know what on track would look like anymore.
But if Queen Bey can get back to love, I'll fucking try again.

All I wanna, ain't no other
We together, I remember
Sweet love all night long
-All Night

Brandon 2

I've fallen ass backwards into a relationship. I say the things I'm supposed to say. I do the things I'm supposed to do. I do thoughtful little things, I do silly little things. Etc. But my heart doesn't feel in it.

There is no challenge here. Brandon will do or say just about anything to make me happy. He's got me on a pedestal that is so damn high. When he annoys me, and I snap at him, he's calm. He calls me on my bullshit, calmly states his case why he doesn't deserve it. And he's always right. But he stays anyway. I'm being flawed and messy and tired and nowhere near my best self and he likes me anyway.

You're thinking, " That's how love works."
Sure. Probably.
But I don't love him.

The other day we hosted a little get together at my house. We both got drunk and as I was lying in bed trying to sleep, there is Brandon lying next to me talking about how he likes holding me, how he has to remind himself to say "I like you" instead of "I love you," how good I make him feel.
I literally had to tell this drunk to shut up. I was in no condition to have a heavy conversation and the whole topic annoys me anyway. I feel like we are dancing around the issue. He loves me, I'm not sure.

I don't have to wake up each morning and guess his mood or try and earn his affection for another day. Or any of the hoops I had to jump through with Jack. Brandon is with me most all the time, but we trust each other, so its not like Tom keeping tabs on me at all hours.

No, this relationship with Brandon feels completely different than anything that came before. And besides his lack of a job, he's a fantastic guy. I should be thrilled, I should stop trying to push and push and push and find his breaking point, stop trying to figure out what I can do and still have him like me. Its a horrid little game that I'm not consciously playing.

Every time I'll get close to thinking, "I could be truly happy with this man," He does or says something obnoxious and I want to break his dumb, trusting heart.

I don't know what my problem is. I trust him implicitly, I know there is no other girl out there making his head turn. I know he will help me with anything and everything.The sex is crazy good.
I've been wrestling with this since we started dating. Do I need to be patient and let feelings grow? Or is Brandon just not right for me?

Brandon

I don't even know what to say.
There is a very nice man who loves me and wants to help me and take care of me and make me laugh.

And I kind of hate him.
He talks so so much. He asks me a question about a sensitive topic and then interrupts the answer 5 words in. He will ask me questions first thing in the morning, or when I'm trying to read, or when I'm already stressed. And I've been good and never snapped at him, but god, I want to.

He has no drive. He had a job for the first few weeks and then got fired. Its been over a month now. No interviews, no sending of the resume. By his own admission, he's not really trying to find a job and is "taking a break." Its very unattractive. I can't picture a future with him or this relationship going much further because he acts like a shiftless loser.

He goes too far too fast. Not sexually, but relationship-ily. He said I love you way too soon. He said he's interested in meeting the kid, when I'm ready. When he told his mom and brother about me, his mom offered to babysit so we could go out. NO. I can't decide how I feel about this guy, so I'm in no rush to add Kiddo to the mix. I can't even think about being in love until he gets a job and shows me that he's not another man-child. And again, I can't decide how I feel about him so I don't want to meet his family, let alone have his mom watch my kid.

Ready, Set, Jet!

I have 3 trips planned for 2016. 2 with girlfriends, 1 with family.
Possibly more with another friend.
And a weekend thing with that guy.

But I'm excited for the girlfriend trips. I think the happiest I've been in a long time was when I went to DC by myself last spring. I'm once again back in the mindset that I need to stop waiting around for a man to rescue me from my situation. And now with my side hustle, I don't need rescuing anyway.

I can go wherever and do whatever.
I'm not really sure what to do with all this freedom but I know I'll have fun figuring it out and getting drunk along the way.

Current Mood

Stood there and watched you walk away 

From everything we had 

But I still mean every word I said to you 

He will try to take away my pain 

And he just might make me smile 

But the whole time I'm wishin' he was you instead 

-Haunted, Taylor Swift

I wish

I wish I was dead. I don't have the balls to hurt myself, but if there was a home invasion, if I was in some horrific accident, I wouldn't mind.

Recent Happenings

We were having sex.
I fell out of bed and hit my head on the bedside table.
I had a big bump and a small cut. But anytime you hit your head and then your hand comes away with blood on it, is slightly panic inducing.
He patched me up, waited while I took a shower and made sure I was steady on my feet before he left.
So, that's what I've been up to.

Light

I haven't written in a while. I didn't have much to say that wasn't depressing. But I'm doing better now. I'm not 100%, and I'm not sure I've ever really been 100%, but I'm doing pretty great. My Mom has been such an amazing help for the last month. My Dad too. There are little bumps here and there, but I'm managing them. I'm getting out of bed and actually living. My new little business venture is keeping me busy and motivated.

I think the best part is that Landrie and Chelsea and Rebecca have all told me that I seem so much happier and excited than I have in quite a while. I am so glad that I have them (and about 15 other amazing girl friends) who kept me treading water for the last six months or so when everything seemed terrible and I wanted to give up on myself and life.

I'm still on medication, I'm still seeing the therapist, but I feel lighter. I feel pretty and funny and worthy again. I'm knocking things off my to do list, I'm doing things I want to do, I bought a plane ticket to meet up with these amazing girls for a long weekend. Things are looking up.

Frustrated.

Below is a whole thing I wrote months ago. I get it. It makes sense, things were never the same after the "I'm convincing myself to stay with Natalie" letter.

I'm young, healthy, smart, funny and employed. I have kind, welcoming, supportive, loving parents. I have an adorable, feisty, smart, sweet, funny kid. I sunk almost a year of my life feeling like an afterthought. Dating is exhausting and I'm not jumping back into it anytime soon. The girls are telling me that I'll be fine and I'll be glad I didn't settle when the right guy comes along. I don't know how or where I'll meet anyone, but from where I sit now, I think I have enough to keep me busy, and enough to have a full, happy life.




December 21, 2015: I'm frustrated. You acknowledge that you are flighty. I understand that you are anxious and depressed and that the holidays are tricky for you and that all this stress is compounded by not currently having a job. I'm getting increasingly frustrated. You have stuff to do around your house, you have ties to finish, and meetings and interviews and that's all well and good. But I'm still not a priority.

I keep bringing it up and you keep talking the talk, but your actions don't really change. Plans with you never quite work out the way they are meant to and its aggravating. When you eventually come over, I'm just so glad you've finally showed up that I don't want to argue. And you've usually had a stressful day, talking to your mom for example, so I don't want to pile on and make the whole day garbage. But I'm dissatisfied.

You said once that you felt like we were doing alright but that you missed solitude, or being alone or something like that. What a shitty thing to say. Like you don't have your own apartment, like  you don't have 4 nights a week to do whatever you choose. For fucks sake, you'll promise me that we are going to spend a day together, but you don't wake up until noon and then it will take you two hours to get to my house.

This is not going well. I've been in this situation before. I can yell or cry or scream but I can't make you put effort into this. I can't single handedly make this relationship more equal. I can't make you respect my time.

What I can do, is choose my actions and my words. I want to be with you, but the way we function as a couple right now, I can't do it.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I've taken on most of your interests, I listen to you talk and talk and talk. Sex is a frustrating and humiliating experience.

You talk about moving closer and right now, I don't think you should.
Getting engaged seems so ridiculous as to be laughable.
I feel like I've sunk time into you, so I stayed.
When we broke up in July, working with Trish was a cutting reminder every damn day. But Trish doesn't work here any more. Do you know what I thought, when I heard she'd been fired? I can break up with him now.
When my kid said he liked you but didn't want you to come around anymore, I thought: I can break up with him now.

So I was thinking...

Here are a bunch of thoughts I need to write down so I can stop thinking about them.

1. Jack's stuff is boxed up and ready for him. He has like two things I would like back but I just can't get up the nerve to text him. So I guess if he wants his big pile of belongings, he can make the first move. 
2. Its so so so cliche to say "let's stay friends," especially since Jack doesn't really "do" friends, but I miss him. Neither of us are mad at each other? Nothing when catastrophically wrong, we just decided like grown ups that we aren't right for each other. Does that mean we never speak to each other again? I guess we don't have any real need to be friends, we don't move in the same circles and would just be confusing and sad. I deleted him from FB, but only because when we broke up in July, he admitted to keeping tabs on me. If he wants to know how I am, he can ask me, otherwise he can just wonder about it. 
3. My ex husband is sniffing around. He's being very nice and letting me see the kid on days that aren't mine because I'm so pitifully lonely. I'm like 5 cocktails away from just getting back together with him to keep the black hole of loneliness from swallowing me whole. 
4. My friends are advising that I not sleep with the ex husband unless I want to get back together because without a doubt, he'll catch feelings about it and it will be a disaster. So they think I should get on Tinder and just bang a couple of randos.
5. I cannot bang any randos because my head is still not right. I though Jack and I were in love. I feel like he let me go so easily and without a second thought. I feel like all the things he said when we were together were just pretty words with no feeling or conviction behind them. So yeah, I could go out and catch a dick, but I'm unloveable. So if I went home with a one nighter, its highly likely that I'd burst into tears and act like a fucking weirdo. Because right now, more than I need to feel sexy and desirable, I need to feel loveable and worthy. 
6. Waterproof mascara is a joke. I finally quit trying to wear make up for this week because I just cry it off. I look like a gremlin without make up, but on the plus side, no one notices my puffy eyes because I just generally look unkempt. 
7. You know how my parents are generally dismissive of me? My feelings aren't valid, I'm just dramatic, depression isn't real, my problems aren't real problems. My Dad, my goddamn Dad who NEVER talks to me on the phone, called last night to check up on me and tell me that they will help me how ever I need help and to think of depression and anxiety like a broken leg (i.e. its a real medical thing requiring treatment). Which isn't a new thought for me but I've never heard that kind of stuff from him. 
8. Having my parents acknowledge that I'm struggling makes me feel worse. I must be the poster child for someone who is "in a bad way" if even they notice and worry about me. I mean, I appreciate their concern, but fuuuuuck, apparently my facade of holding it all together is not fooling literally anyone. 
9. Whenever I go through a breakup or am especially anxious (i.e. my current life) I don't eat. I just have no appetite. To be honest, I don't want to do any of the things necessary to keep on going. Washing my hair and shaving my legs sound like feats requiring entirely too much effort, and I'm single now, and with no makeup I already look like a billy goat, so who the fuck cares, right? But anyways, eating. It sounds like too much effort to make a meal, or even take the steps necessary to buy a meal. So I just haven't. I'm not hungry anyway. Plus, eventually I'll get my head screwed on straight and Natalie minus 10 lbs. is a better version to present when I eventually "get back out there." But my sweet little boy noticed I wasn't eating and insisted that I have dinner. 
10. I know I'm not quite 30, but when is it ok to just quit? No more websites, no more awkward dates, no more searching for this mythical, lasting love. I figure I'm about 3 more cats and an increased drinking habit away from embracing the Cat Lady lifestyle. 

Help.

I think my least favorite compliment is to be told I'm strong. I'm not strong at all, I'm just stubborn. If I don't go to the grocery store, or pay the bills, or teach myself to do taxes, or push myself to keep going when I just want to stop and cry, nothing gets done at my house.

I'm the only adult. I have a kid and two cats counting on me. I'm not strong at all. I often wish I never was, like in Its a Wonderful Life. I don't think I have it in me to hurt myself. But I wish I never existed. I wish that everyone I know, or ever knew, would go on living their lives as if they never met me.

I'm depressed. Its not just the break up, it's everything. It's work, and my ex, and my kid, and my friends, and my parents, and my finances, and my ever growing to-do list.

I get up and show up and through sheer force of will, I keep raising a kid and going to work. No one else thinks anything of it. But it's so fucking hard. I don't want to do any of this. I want to lay in my bed and cry and sleep. I want someone to notice that I'm at a breaking point, they don't have to fix me, just acknowledge me, hug me, sit with me for a minute.

It had been months since I had an anxiety attack. Yesterday I had two.
I keep myself physically busy, but my brain never stops. Sometimes I wish I were just a bit dumber so that my brain would focus on one task at a time. I can be watching tv or reading or working, and doing fine and absorbing that, and at the same time, my brain is overclocking itself.

My sleep is all fucked up. I needed pills to get me to sleep. Then I could get to sleep easily enough on my own but could never get enough. Two sleep studies later, I'm slapped with a sleep apnea diagnosis and handed a CPAP machine which all but guarantees I'll never have sex again. I finally got used to the stupid darth vader mask and sleep with it for most of the night, but now I'm back to not being able to sleep. My brain sits there replaying conversations, playing out worst case scenarios, pointing out my every flaw. Do you know why I'm able to be so funny and give a minimal amount of fucks what anyone thinks of me? Because nothing anyone can say to me is half as mean as what I think about myself.

My brain will be the death of me.

Deep Breath

We broke up.
He didn't love me enough to try to work on things or fight for us. I knew we were up and down. I was willing to try and to change and to do whatever. He said didn't think things could ever get better. He said that, right after he told me that he's not going anywhere, right after he said that he would be miserable without me.

I'm going to be ok. I cried while I talked with him, but I don't have any more tears. I don't really feel a  whole lot right now. If it was so easy for him to let me go, I'm not going to twist myself in knots over it.

The part that really sucks is that I introduced Jack to all my family, to my friends, to my kid. He fucking met my ex-husband. Jack did Christmas with us, cookies, and Santa, and presents and the whole thing. I was a damn good girlfriend. I hate this for my kid. I hate that they got along so well. I hate that the kid is going to ask about Jack and I don't know how to explain to this innocent, sweet, tender hearted child, that his friend is never coming back to race trucks with him.