*Yawn*

I’m seriously considering going home and sleeping the afternoon away. But I have an appointment this afternoon so I’ll probably just tough it out. I’m not sure why I’m so tired anyway. I got enough sleep on Saturday night. I got enough sleep last night. *shrugs* I hate my energy levels.

I went to Heather & Andy’s wedding this weekend. It is so nice to see them so happy. I’m very happy for her. I was surprised, the wedding itself didn’t get to me…but the reception did. I think it was a combination of reminders of my wedding and reminders that I’m not really a part of the Broken Bow life anymore. Letting go and moving on has never been my strong suit. I’m all for change. I love new things…I just don’t like letting go of the old.

I guess Curtis officially is to the point I was at a week ago. He just wants to be here. He wants to be with me. He doesn’t want to be separated by 5 hours. That feels good. I feel much better about life. I was so scared there was something shady going on…but that fear is gone now. I really am not sure what part of the weekend made it go away, but it is gone and I’m at peace.

I had a dream this morning (in between snoozing the alarm) that he just showed up to live at my house. That he couldn’t handle being apart anymore and just showed up. Kinda made me chuckle when I woke up.

The kids met him this weekend. They seemed to really like him. Bailey requested to sit by him at the reception and Michael requested to sit by him at lunch on Sunday before we left. I was very surprised by Michael’s request because Grandma was there and usually both the kids want to sit by her.

Love, Life, and Pain (Part 2)

So the next major stop on the Love-Life Express would have to be Curtis. I had other relationships in high school (even one worth writing about) but I just don’t remember enough about them to work them through.

I met Curtis on Halloween 1995 at a dance club…I was 18. He was good friends with one of my co-workers and he was also going to be the new guy at work. He was dressed as The Crow (I was dressed as a hooker). I honestly don’t remember much about him from the night we first met. Our story really started after he started working at Pizza Hut with me. We hit it off and me, him, and Tommy all started hanging out. Most of the beginning of the relationship is very foggy due to the large amounts of pot we smoked on a regular basis.

Love, Life, and Pain (Part 1)

From the moment I was old enough to start to like boys in a way that might get me cooties, I learned that I wasn’t good enough. The boys would make fun of me. The ones I liked never liked me back. Most of them would just torment me and harass me. No one would give me the time of day.

Then one day a new boy moved to town, Glenn. He and I became very good friends. I quickly began to like him as more than just a friend but he didn’t feel the same way about me. He didn’t want that to stand in the way of our friendship though because he really liked my personality. We talked nearly every night on the phone. But he always made it very clear that he didn’t like me as anything more than a friend. That crushed me on a daily basis.

He dated several of my friends…but never me. Of course, that hurt even more but I didn’t want to let him go. He was special….I don’t know why. He was also a cutter. I don’t know for sure what his mental condition was but he found comfort in slicing his ankles with razor blades. He would even do it at school. Several times he was caught and no one could get him to stop….but me. I don’t know why. All I had to do was ask him to stop and he would calm himself and put the razor down.  And so our friendship went. He would date different girls, talk to me on the phone every night, and I would wish he would date me. If he started cutting, I’d get him to stop.

Maybe

Maybe there is something wrong with me. Actually, I’m pretty sure there is. I think I’m depressed. I completely went off the deep end tonight (still am pretty upset) when I found out that none of Tony’s friends could make it to our New Years Eve party. The reason this is so important is because I have no friends in this town so his friends were the only ones coming. I don’t get to go out. I don’t get to be social. Most of the time this doesn’t bother me but on occasions such as this, it does. I don’t get myself revved up for social interaction often, but when I do I am extremely hurt when it doesn’t pan out. So, here I am, New Years Eve, all alone until 10:30 or so, still in my pajamas, hair still undone, drinking brandy slushes, with no intention of getting dressed, brushing my hair, or doing anything remotely uplifting….all because 3 guys decided not to come to our “party.” No matter how many times I repeat how silly that sounds, it doesn’t stop the fact that it hurts. I just wanted to do something fun.

30 is just a number

Apparently, it isn’t bad enough that I feel like crap, I need to be banned from writing about it in my blog. So, here I am, writing it in Word until I can access my blog and put it there. I guess, at least this way I can check my spelling as I type.

I know 30 is just a number. I know this is just another birthday. But for some reason I can’t shake this horrible looming feeling. Maybe it is just my bad outlook on current life and the fact that it is happening around my birthday. I don’t know. I’m horribly lonely. I would like to pour myself out all over this page and just get it out but it isn’t working. Nothing seems right. I can’t sit still. I can’t get anything done. I have no energy. I have no motivation.

If I remember correctly, the last time I felt like this I moved and left my old life behind. I don’t see that helping this time, nor do I see it being as easy.

I’m mad at life. I’m mad at me. I feel overwhelmed by things I want to change but unable to change them.

I’m down. I’m almost to the point where I am willing to go back on antidepressants but it just makes me so mad. I should be able to do this on my own. I don’t want to depend on drugs to make me feel better. Really, what makes someone taking a prescription any better than someone illegal drugs? That little piece of paper from the doctor doesn’t change the fact that you have to depend on a chemical to fix your outlook on life.

This is just ridiculous. This isn’t helping. The person I need to talk to isn’t here. Not that I would talk if he was. Not that he would talk if he was.

*throws up her hands*