Down the rabbit hole..

I’m often heard saying the following things: 

I would never take anything in my life back.

I wouldn’t be who I am today without the things that have happened to me.

That I like who I am now.

 

Well, I don’t really like who I am right now. I don’t know the woman sitting here writing this. She’s a stranger to me. The last two years of my life have been seriously tumultuous, trying, and downright sucky.

That’s not to say that good things haven’t happened. Because they have. But, when I look back on the last two years I think of a lot of bad things. I gained back all of the weight I’d lost. That’s over 70 lbs. I fell in love with someone who I never stood a chance at having him love me back. I was never going to be “worthy” of his love. If that’s what you want to call it. I was destined to always be his fall back. But never good enough to be picked. I got pregnant and lost it in the same breath. I allowed myself to go further into debt for someone that wouldn’t even take me to dinner without complaining about it. I had my heart broken over and over and over again. I saw my relationship with my best friend dissipate before my eyes. I saw people I cared about pull away from me because I pulled away from them without meaning to..

I guess I can’t say all of that’s bad. It’s not. Some people never feel love at all. I don’t regret the love I felt. I do, however, regret that I allowed myself to be drug along for so long before realizing that love would never, ever be returned. No matter how long I waited. 

The last two years haven’t been all bad. I moved, got a new job, met new people. But I’m not happy.

I fee like I’ve gone so far down the rabbit hole that there is no coming back from this. I feel like no matter how hard I dig my fingers into the dirt I’ll never be able to pull myself back up.

But I have to. There’s not choice. I can’t keep doing this to myself. Something has got to give. I just don’t know where to start.

 

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Lost life.

Another one of my friends from high school is pregnant. I can’t explain how truly happy I am for her. How happy I am for all of my friends who are expecting and/or have children. But I can’t shake the empty feeling inside of me every time one of them tells me. 

I have always wanted to be a Mom. Always. On January 1st, 2013 I found out I was going to be a mommy. I was terrified, excited, overjoyed… I have what is called Poly cystic Ovarian Syndrome and it’s known that it’s difficult for women like me to get pregnant. So I was scared that I would do something to mess this up. I laid in bed for a weekend straight with my hand on my belly, so.. scared but again, happy. I had my first doctor’s appointment scheduled for a Monday. On Friday I was having some discomfort because of a Urinary Tract Infection so I went to the doctor early. While I was there I started spotting. I got extremely nervous and crampy. When they did my blood and urine test they said that I only showed small amounts of the pregnancy hormone. I had miscarried. I was confused, upset, and hurt. I told the friends and family I had told that I wasn’t pregnant. I told them the test was wrong. I had only known I was pregnant for 2 weeks. 

I was so upset and confused. I pulled away from my friends. Even my family. I didn’t know how to cope.. so I just slept. I lost friends, or at least caused a lot of unneeded tension between us.. I wish I had found a better way to cope with this at the time. But I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to turn or what to say.

Being around my friends who had kids made me depressed. It’s stupid.. but it did. It made me really, really sad. Even though I love my friends and their kids it made me so unbearably sad. Again, I wish I’d come up with a better way to cope but I just distanced myself from them all. To ease my pain. I didn’t think about the fact that it was hard on them — me pulling away.

I wish I could go back and fix everything. But, I can’t.

I can’t fix anything. 

You know what I’m good at?

Giving people advice on things I’m not willing to listen to myself. Oh yeah, I’m fucking fantastic at that. “Eating healthy is so easy. Just buy lots of fruits and veggies and blah blah fucking blah.” What do I do?

Taco Artist: “Thanks for choosing Taco Bell, go ahead and order when you’re ready.”

Me: Sure, I’ll have a taco. No lettuce. Make that 2 tacos. Hard shell. Extra sour cream. Go ahead and and at a chicken quesadilla, maybe a cookie sandwich. Two cheese rolls ups… and better go ahead and add another taco.”

Taco Artist: Are you having a party?

Me: ………………sure. That’s it. Taco party.

Or there is the whole, “He’s your ex for a reason, Susie. Leave it that way! Remember how big of a douche nozzle he was?”

Me: Hi ex-boyfriend that I haven’t talked to in over a year because you told me that you couldn’t date me because I’m a Christian and you’re Atheist.. Sure I’ll talk to you again cause you told me I was pretty! hehehehhe

(Don’t worry. I nipped that one in the bud pretty quickly after realizing I’m half-retarded. Shut up. Loneliness will make the smartest of women go crazy.)

Oh yeah.. then there’s the classic, “Stop looking. You’ll find someone when you least expect it! Until then, enjoy being single!”

Me: *crying into a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked while watching The Notebook* NOAH AND ALLIE HAVE EACH OTHER, WHY DON’T I HAVE ANYONE?!

Me: I’m so sad and lonely and blahhh sadddd! Being single sucks.

Yeah. Maybe I should learn to heed my own advice?

Cam is making me do this…

Because I’m an awful human being, Cam has had to remind me twice that I need to write something.

But, the truth is… I’m kind of thoughtless right now.

Okay, not necessarily thoughtless… more so, too many thoughts to the idea of picking one and trying to verbalize it makes my brain hurt. Like, so much hurt it’s as if I’m sticking my brain into a puddle of brain melting liquid then pouring the remnants into a blender and pressing “pulse”.

Side note; I’ve never owned a blender, so if “pulse” isn’t a thing… blame my pulsated brain.

I promise to try and be more interesting.

*headdesk*

*headdesk*

It’s 10 in the morning and I’m sitting at my parent’s house drinking a cup of coffee. I have already off-loaded and reloaded the dishwasher, started a load of laundry, made coffee, and decided that I look like a slob and need a shower.

As I’m still new (again) to blogging I’m not sure what to write about. Or, rather, I have things I could write about but I haven’t quite developed a trusting relationship with my blog yet. Maybe it hasn’t earned the right to these thoughts yet.

For now, I’m going to go bash my head into the desk so I can catch a few more hours of sleep.

Beginning anew.

Sometimes I wonder why I quit writing down my thoughts; whether that is in a diary/journal/blog. I then sit down to write something and am quickly reminded to the answer.

I’m terrible at putting my thoughts into words. In my head, I’m an amazing writer. Quick witted, funny, eloquent, and ideas that go on forever. There are always masterfully sculpted paragraphs, amazing stories, and perfectly phrased sentences… and then I go to type out those words and all I get is: “FUCKiaskjaSHITlakjasfHEADDESKahsemcbGODDAMNITkldaio”.

So, here goes one final attempt at this whole blog thing (and by final I totally mean “If this fails then I’ll try again in six years. But hopefully by then they’ll have a device that I can shove in my ear and it will take my thoughts, verbatim, and put them into a lovely little blog post”).