It’s been a horrible, wretched month.
Which sucks even more because October is my favorite month of the year. So to sit here and have to type out how horrible this month has been is draining. It’s kind of an undeniable fact that my life is steaming, hot clump of a mess right now. I’m putting on weight because I keep cycling through period of overeating and periods of not eating enough. I’m stressed out every single day because I’m horrified over what else is going to go wrong in my life. I’ve been incredibly hormonal and I miss my ex and I’m filled with so many conflicting emotions. I’ve been fighting off a cold for over a week now. I went back to work at the cafe where I worked last year to earn some extra money (and that’s a good thing, but it’s born out of stress), and all of this on top of a divorce and grad school.
And I’m turning 31 this year, as if I need yet another reminder that my life is not at all forming into what I had hoped it would be by this point.
I want to say “but” here, but unfortunately, my life really does just suck right now. Silver linings don’t exist. Sure, I can acknowledge that there are good things going on in my life, but that doesn’t mean that one cancels out the other. I make plans to try and get myself through each week, and each week I (somehow) make it through to the other side. I do not feel prepared to take on the next week, but I know I got through the last one (even if just barely), and hey, at least I get to celebrate my existence at the end of this week.
I don’t have much of a point. I’d love to update you and say that I’m doing well and I’m dominating life and I’m kicking ass, but the truth is that none of those things are true. I’m not doing well. I’m not dominating life (if anything, I’m questioning why I’m alive when all I seem built to do is suffer). I’m not kicking ass (how can I when all I want to do is go back to my neglectful ex who put work before our marriage for years?). I’m scraping by on the most basic of mental and emotional functions.
The truth is, I’m exhausted. And when I get this tired, I usually fall back into struggling with louder suicidal impulses. With my mental health being what it is, I’m always struggling with suicidal thoughts and impulses. I question my life and why I’m here daily, it’s just that sometimes that voice is more subdued. At times like this, that voice is louder, more obvious, harder to ignore. I sink easily into deep depression. I’ve been physically spent this whole week, and some of that is the cold, but a lot of it is the extra amount of work I have to do to keep myself performing all of my daily functions.
It’s exhausting to miss my ex; to dream about him at night, to have him on my mind all day, to roll over all of the beautiful memories we shared while married (even though they were rare). It’s exhausting to desire his body, to miss his voice and our way of conversing, to fantasize about how he used to hold me and place his cheek on my head. People keep telling me that we could always get back together, and I don’t know how to explain how upsetting this statement is. How it rips me open from the inside out and makes me wonder what the actual fuck am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to move on and let him go? Or am I supposed to take a little time and distance before I tell him, “Hey, just kidding, I didn’t want to be legally married to you, but I do still want to go on dates and fuck and build a life together. The divorce thing was just a technicality.”
I’m angry that I even have to think about all of this in the first place. I’m furious that I can’t just let this love go. It would be easier if I could just send it out into the ether and start to rebuild my life. How can I rebuild my life if I’m this in love with someone who probably wouldn’t notice if I never contacted him again? I feel small and insignificant and weak. I’m tired of wanting to be wanted to fucking much. Why couldn’t he want me enough to try to make it work? Why do I still want to try and make it work?
More crying at work commences.
