One day at a time

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I’m just barely getting by.  Everyone on social media seems to be living each day to the fullest. My days are so empty I might lose my mind. And the nights are worse.

I’m trying to just keep going. Going where I have no idea.  I don’t know what I can hope for. Hoping for love and someone to build a life with seems out of reach.

I should have seen the writing on the wall when he put new songs online titled “bail out” tongues tied tight” and “ghosting”.  How fucking stupid am I?  Obviously, very.

I’m trying to find ways to create more work for myself. I can’t figure out how to make friends but maybe if I can make more money I can visit my far away friends more frequently. Even before my relationship collapsed I was feeling like I needed to get my life more together.  But I felt like it was possible, manageable.  I had some support and affection.  The warm light of love makes impossible things seem possibly possible. Now I just try to get through each tiny day without collapsing under my endless sorrow.

If my life has a theme it’s probably impermanence.  Nothing ever lasts. I’ve started over more times than I can count. I’ve got so many holes in my heart, my life, that can never be filled again. Maybe it’s my karma to withstand loss after loss and I’ll never get to have anything in my life that helps me feel whole. Maybe I should stop hoping for any bit of solace, for any ray of light.

If only I could have a cat. I’m so good with cats. Cats almost always love me. It’s people that I am not great with.

You know it’s bad when you’re only dream is to be a cat lady!

Just disappear

I’m trying to keep from drowning in sorrow. I don’t know if I’m succeeding. Doesn’t feel like it.

I felt like I was seen, valued and loved.  But I was wrong.  I was thrown out with ease. And now I feel so alone. Invisible.

I feel compelled to keep writing. But what do I have to say?  What do I have to offer? Does anyone want to know my inner thoughts?

I want my writing to give me some perspective, some healing. Instead it just feels as futile as everything else in my life.

I might just disappear completely. But if no ones looking does it even matter?

Deleted

I wrote a whole post a few days ago that I deleted.  I’ve never done that before.  I just didn’t think it was of any value. I don’t feel like I’m of much value right now.

I have been deleted from my exes life.  X-ed out. I feel like everything I gave, all that love, was just worthless. Trash. Thrown away.

I don’t know how to muster any hope right now. I’m trying to expand my life but it just keeps getting smaller.

I went and took a class today, something I’ve been wanting to do and feeling too scared to do.  And I did it. And I hated it. I’m trying to find something else to try but nothing appeals. Nothing fits my schedule and interest.  But I need to find something. I need more work but I also need more life.

Hermitdom is my natural state but I used to have more balance. I don’t know how to reach out again. I don’t know how to meet people, make friends. I’m so lonely that I feel like I should hide, which is a viscous cycle.

I’m so desperate that I’m contemplating going to a yoga class.

Yikes!

Worth

I’m trying to stay positive.  Or at least neutral.  I’m doing ok. But it’s still a challenge to not collapse into depression.  I’m sad.

I feel mad for even having hope for the relationship to last. But I thought he loved me enough to work through the challenges that invariably arise.  But instead he thought so little of me that throwing me away like trash was no big deal. That is what hurts the most. That I was so wrong. That I’m not worth loving.

Friends keep telling me that I’m lovable, that’s it not me. But when it keeps happening it’s got to be me, right?  Either I’m not lovable or I just pick men who don’t love me despite my supposed lovability. Either way I’m alone. Again.

I miss my former elskan mín. But I wonder if I even knew him? Did he feel anything for me?  How did it all just evaporate?  Will I ever find someone to build a loving stable relationship with?  Am I even worth that kind of love?

It’s hard to feel worth love when your own father didn’t love you and told you how much of a stupid worthless piece of shit you were. I hear all that in my head any time I fuck up, which is pretty much all the time.  I’m trying to stay afloat and I’m surprised to find that I’m doing sort of ok but that voice, that despair is just there. It’s unlikely that it will ever disappear. I hope I can prove it wrong, I hope I can have a successful relationship someday.  Spending the rest of my life alone sounds worse than death. I can’t even have a cat.

Is there anything sadder than a catless cat lady?

 

3 things…

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(My photo of some street art stickers)

I am feeling sad. I am feeling empty. I am feeling hopeless.

I’m going to write about 3 things that I’m grateful for.  I have no idea if it will actually help me feel any better, when people tell me to “count my blessings” I just count to three in my mind to keep from punching them in the throat.  But no one told me to do this.  It’s an experiment.   If you think it’s really stupid, you can just go read any number of other posts, or other blogs for that matter.  I am not guaranteeing it’ll be entertaining in any way.

# 1

my friends.

I might be very alone & lonely in Portland but I’ve got a handful of very wonderful friends. They might be living far away but I talk on the phone & video chat with them.  Sometimes I laugh my ass off. Sometimes I’m wicked depressed and a friend is there to listen and remind me that I’ll be ok. That I am loved.  Sometimes I’m the one who listens, reminds them they’ll be ok, that they are loved, try to make them laugh or be there when they cry.

# 2

my apartment

I lucked out at a very terrible time shortly after moving to Portland and found a tiny little dollhouse of an attic apartment. I can afford it, sometimes barely, and it’s all mine, no roommates.  It’s ridiculously small but cozy and cute. It’s in a great neighborhood.

# 3

work I love

My work situation has its issues but I have great clients and I love what I do.  I need more clients but 2 years ago I was scrambling and doing all kinds of random jobs and had a debilitating injury from one of those jobs that’s only now mostly healed. It was brutal and I thought it would never get better. But it has, even if I have a long way to go.  I’m so grateful to be able to do work I love.

 

I have come really far from where I was 2 or 3 years ago. But when I look at where that is it’s not easy to feel good about it, to not be ashamed that this is an accomplishment. I’m getting by instead of just barely scraping by.  But I can say I pulled myself up after having the rug pulled out from under me in a soul crushing way. I was frighteningly and deeply depressed, beyond my baseline level of depressed,  for a over a year and I am still alive.

Can you be grateful and dissatisfied at the same time?

Apparently so.

 

You probably think this post is about you

I’m feeling quite fed up today.  With everything.  But I’ll limit my rambling to the heart of the matter. That old chestnut “it’s not you, it’s me”.

Absolute bullshit nine times out of ten.

They say this to “avoid hurting your feelings” but it hurts far worse when you discover that they’ve found love right after they told you that they “aren’t open to a relationship right now”.  This has happened so many times to me. Once the new girlfriend became the wife mere months after the guy dumped me. She looked alarmingly like me, but over a decade younger. That was rough.

But I’m not stupid.  It’s obvious that I am the problem.  I’m not worth wanting anything remotely like a relationship with. If someone could just say “I don’t want a relationship with you” it would hurt less, not more. If someone could tell me what’s wrong with me maybe I could fix it. But it’s probably just unfixable. I’m wrong.  I’m not worthy.

So I’m not going to be surprised if my now ex is going to find the love of his life, like,  yesterday. Because that’s how it seems to go again and again.

I’m not perfect but I don’t think I’m completely awful and unlovable. I’m not terrible looking. I’m not horribly out of shape. I try to be loving, affectionate, thoughtful.  Yet. I’m just never deemed good enough for a relationship to become long term. I don’t think I can continue to try. It’s insane to think that this groundhog’s day story will change.  Maybe I’m just not deserving of a loving partner. Sure doesn’t look like it.

Maybe tomorrow I will feel less like trash.  Maybe lack of sleep is contributing to my hopeless outlook. The little bit of sleep I get is filled with weird nightmares. I woke up today  feeling at the edge of endless weeping but I had to go to work so I just made coffee and pushed my feelings down enough to leave the house. But it’s just plain as day. I’m not the kind of woman any man will ever love or cherish. My own dad thought me utterly worthless. Looks like he was probably right. He was an actual fucking genius, so…

I guess I’ll just take up knitting and wait for my uterus to finish dying.

Emptiness

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I feel compelled to write.  I’m up at 4 am. But I don’t know what to say. I’m empty.

It’s not that beautiful Buddhist emptiness, it’s just a complete lack of hope.

I want to find something funny to say, something clever or enlightening.  I have nothing…

Where does inspiration come from? Where does Hope get generated?  Whatever part of the mind or body that might be, mine is clearly broken. Or absent. Down the proverbial drain. I wonder where it goes.

Since I was a child I had a recurring sensation of just wanting to disappear. It feels like my wish is finally coming to fruition. I’ve gotten so small, so empty that I think I might just evaporate.

I’m not sure if I should bother to continue writing this blog. It is just a documentation of all my sad little dreams being crushed, a diary of my pathetic failures. Sometimes writing will unfurl something in me, give me something to hold onto, or a window to find a different perspective. Unfortunately when I need that the most there’s nothing. A void.

I should seek solace in this emptiness. Maybe it’ll transform into some state of understanding. Maybe I should finally just give up hoping to have anything, give up desiring anything at all. That’s what Buddhism says the solution is. Maybe they’re right.  Because most of my desires have only caused me pain. Disappointment.

Opening yourself up isn’t easy. How many times can I handle doing it only to be seen and discarded? I don’t think I can do it again.

I’m not going to write about being heartbroken anymore because it’s just really boring.  If it had a catchy beat maybe it’d be a hit.

If I find something actually interesting to write about then I’ll be back. But for now I’m gonna disappear. I’m already gone.