8:41pm Thursday 6/14/2012 Redondo Beach, Ca
Where do I begin… not from the comfort of my own home, as I’m currently living with my mother (eh hem, mooching off my mother). I left my home on October 17, 2011 when I also left my husband of 12 years. On August 25, 2012 our 17 year 4 month 4 day relationship will legally be over.
I stopped abusing alcohol and drugs this year. It’s been about 80 days since I last smoked marijuana and as of last week 60 days without drinking; however, over this past weekend I had a glass of wine, because ‘I had a bad day and deserved it’ (pppfffttt! I call bullshit!) So now I have only a few days sober, but I’m happy with that because the truth is, I could very well be drunk right now. I went to AA tonight, simply because I couldn’t stand to be alone for one more second.
My loneliness has been a major problem for me recently. I’ve never spent this much time alone in my nearly 32 years of life and I really hate being lonely. It doesn’t help that I’m not working at the moment (haven’t had steady work since May 2010, been collecting unemployment until this past Spring), so I spend about 12+ hours alone, everyday, and usually at home doing nothing productive; unless you consider crying, feeling sorry for myself, watching Will & Grace, and eating chocolate being productive.
Tonight I really needed to write. Not poetry or tweets or anything to anyone specific. I just needed to write truth, honesty, to and for myself. If you read this post I kindly ask that you do not “like” it. This one, just this one, is for me. Not for any acclaim, likes, follows, or such. This is to expose my truth. My secrets. My dysfunctional emotional state of depression, constant depression, despair and sorrow. My happiness has fled and I’m in the process of reclaiming it. It has been a really rough battle. Each “break-down” seems worse than the one before. Each “break-up” seems more of a loss than ever imagined. Each day seems more of a hassle than it’s worth. For the first time in my life, I’m suicidal. I want to die. I’m tired of feeling. I’m tired of being sad. I’ve given up hope. And all I formerly used to numb, to cope (drugs, alcohol, food, etc.) isn’t working; in fact they’re only making matters worse.
Yet something keeps me going. The only way I can explain it is, it’s God. Despite my many failures and fuck-ups, He’s not finished with me yet. A friend said to me today, “God makes some of us stronger than others for a reason.” At this point, I feel I don’t care what the reason is, it doesn’t seem worth it to me. And I didn’t sign up for this anyway!… or did I? All those years I spent praying, asking God for His will in my life. Although I can’t imagine pain, sadness, rejection, abandonment, despair, hurt, anger, guilt, shame, and hopelessness would be His will for me.
I don’t know, now I feel as if I’m rambling and if anyone is still reading, they’re probably more fucked-up than I am or feel sorry for this poor 32 year-old white girl, who lives at the beach in Southern California, drives a car that’s paid for, has a small amount of debt, has just been accepted into a certification program at a top University, has a loving and supportive mother who is happy to care for her during this “rough patch”, and is for the most part healthy (although being 50 lbs overweight is not considered “healthy” these days).
I guess I’ll end this just as I started it, not really knowing what to say. Tomorrow will hopefully be a better day. Perhaps my soul will heal a bit tonight as I sleep. When I wake, God could have miraculously solved all my problems and contentment would be my new-found position in life. Either way, I’ll likely write again tomorrow. Slowly piecing together the fragmented bits of my mind, heart, and soul… one day at a time.
© LR 2012
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