Okay, so I’ve come to terms that this is obviously my place to express all the depressing stuff that no one else should hear.

I really wanted this to be an ingenious blog that could be read by friends and strangers alike, but that’s never going to happen. Just like a lot of other things in my life that will never happen.

Okay, so this last week and a half has really sucked. Everything is just getting to me. Work has sucked, I’m taking classes again, and of course, let’s not forget that consistant pain that never seems to go away. So the other night, my crazy head started thinking. I was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling ( I couldn’t sleep, as usual). I got warm so I took off my top blanket, and realized it was the one my friend Chris made me before I left TX. So I started thinking about making things, that naturally led to thinking about knitting. I then started thinking about how I want to learn how to knit socks, and that led me to thinking about how far I’ve come (knitting-wise). And of course that led me to start thinking about the very first thing I knitted. It was an atrocious scarf-like thing. It was made of variegated yarn that made a camouflage pattern. It was awful, and he hated it of course, but that was not what my mind focused on.

All I could think about was sitting there every day, knitting away, praying for his safety in Afghanistan. He was always constantly on my mind. Small prayers, slipping silently from my mouth to God’s ears throughout with each stitch. And that’s when it hit me. It was our anniversary. Or what would have been our anniversary, had he not left.

Immediately all these memories came flooding back, slamming into my chest, causing the tears to come again. God, it’s been a while since I’ve laid in bed and cried. The other morning, a particularly quiet Saturday morning, I was awakened by the sound of the kids that live upstairs, yelling and laughing and watching TV. I had never really realized that I would be able to hear upstairs before. Then I realized, they must have been able to hear me at times. Fighting with Nick over giving the ring back, or sobbing my heart out when I thought I was alone. God what a nightmare my life is.

How did I end up here? How? How did I manage to give away all of my heart, and be left with nothing? It’s like I’ve just woken up and realized that it’s gone. Every chance I had at success, health, love, life. Gone. All of it. Like one of the idiots that wins 200 million dollars and ends up in bankruptcy court 3 years later, because he woke up one morning, and it was gone. One day you have everything, and the next thing you know, you just don’t.

I was cleaning off my desk and the cabinet drawers today at work and found two picture frames, containing pictures of us. It was hard to look at them but not as hard as I thought it would be. What hurt the most was when my coworker saw me looking at them, looked over my shoulder and said, “Wow you look so pretty there! And so happy! Wow…”. Ya, she just had to say “wow” twice, while looking back and forth between me, and the pictures. I saw exactly what she was thinking and said, “Ya, I know, I used to be pretty, and thin.” She gave me the standard response that any good friend should give. The ol’ “Oh stop! You are still beautiful!” But I’m not. And we both know it.

It’s been over a year and a half since it ended, and I’ve accomplished nothing but gain weight, and completely lose sight of who I used to be. The depression kicked in, which fueled the pain, which put an end to any activity, which led to gaining weight. 40 pounds. FORTY. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I stopped getting my nails done, my hair done, all of it. I even completely stopped wearing makeup about 8 months ago. I used to NEVER leave the house without makeup and hair done. NEVER.

I don’t go outside at all now, unless it’s absolutely necessary. Or dark out. I don’t go out with friends anymore either. For months and months, T would ask me to go with her and Junior. And after months of me saying no, they just stopped asking. Which is really just better for everyone. And I don’t think I can handle sitting there, out in public watching a bunch of pretty couples. I already live with them, so I don’t want to be around any more than I have to. I’m just being bitter I guess.

Another thing I found while cleaning out my drawers, was a business card for the photagrapher I was going to use for the wedding. Of course (just to twist the knife that’s already in my chest) I had to go to the website and look at the wedding gallery pics. It was while I was looking at the pics of the brides and grooms, that I realized that it’s never going to happen. Not to me. That’s never going to be me. Ya I know, there’s no law against getting married after 30 but, I’ll never be “her”. I’ll never be that young girl with that look in her eye as she looks into the eyes of her new husband.

I’ll more than likely be that 40 year old, that people will ask about. “Is this her second marriage?” or “I wonder what’s wrong with her?”. I already have to answer to all my family. All my great aunts and grandmothers, who were married before they were even 21. “Still not married?” “No grandkids in the future?”. Nope. Doesn’t look like it.

All I ever wanted was to love someone and take care of them. Giving them kids, and having grandkids someday. Why not me? Why does the horrid, frumpy, annoying girl that sits behind me have kids and a husband and I don’t? I mean I have to admit, I’m nothing to look at these days anymore either. And I don’t go out, and how can I meet anyone when I just stay home? But I honestly have just given up. Especially after today, looking at how good I USED to look. I mean sure, I’m not stupid, I know I wasn’t beautiful or perfect by ANY means, but damn, what the hell happened to me?

I’ve changed my diet. Started walking small amounts on my lunch or break at work. But sometimes the pain is too much to get up. Or the fatigue is too much to get out of bed. I see people running along side the road, or on TV and I want so badly to be them. I want to be a runner. One of those people that goes to the gym every day. I honestly, truly do. But I just can’t. At least not anymore.

Ya know, I’m just done. I’m done talking about this same shit that never changes. I just keep wasting more space on the internet with the same shit. If there were any glimpse of hope for change, then maybe I could find the strength to put forth an effort. Maybe if that light at the end of my tunnel wasn’t a freight train, then maybe. Maybe I would want to keep on doing this. But it’s not, so why? Why waste everyone else’s time?

I wonder why I have the urge to write all this out, when it’s not going to matter in the end. Is it supposed to make me feel better? I doubt it. I honestly don’t. I find myself pulling away from everyone now. I don’t answer calls anymore. Not from friends, not from family. In fact I don’t even know where my phone IS anymore. I don’t even look in the mirror but maybe for 30 seconds when I put my hair up every moring. It makes me physically sick when I do, so I try not to spend too much time there.

I used to be against ending it all. Ya know, the whole “it’s the only unforgiveable sin” thing. And I actually believe that. So how do I get around that whole thing? Is it possible to put in a request for my “last day”? Ya know, like you put in your “two week notice” at work? If the pain is never going to go away, then I don’t want to do this anymore. But I’m really serious. I don’t. I don’t have a husband or children to live for. My parents both have lives with their new spouses so I’m sure they would get over it.

I just wake up every day, praying for cancer, or a car wreck. I know that’s awful, but at least there’s an end to it. I already live in pain every day, and I’m pretty much dead to my family and friends already anyway, so really, why not?

My doctor pretty much told me last time I saw her, that there IS no cure, and I’m not going to GET any better. So I just need to get used to this life, and learn healthy ways to live with and work through the pain.

No. That’s my answer. No. I may sound like a 4 year old, but I don’t want to. I just don’t want to anymore. Now I just need to find a way. A way out that will please everyone. Man I wish there was someone that understood this. Someone to tell this to, besides a computer screen.

Man… I just never thought I would have ended up here…. never in a million years…