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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

best laid plans

First thing, thank you Todd and Parijat, you have no idea how much your comments have done to lift my spirits.

I really am feeling better today. I had a bit of bloodletting last night, no blood, just lots of tears. I think Paul was caught a bit off guard even though I'm pretty sure he suspected how depressed I've been. When I woke up Monday morning and announced I was not going to work, I woke up several hours later to find him sitting on the couch in his pajamas. Since we both normally have to be coaxed into staying home from work even when feverish and near-death (it's not that we love our jobs but more that we are both sort of workaholics) this was all kind of weird. I got the feeling he did not want to leave me home alone in an apartment full of sharp pointy objects.

Last night I just started crying. Nothing happened. I just couldn't hold it in anymore and it started off as just a tear in my eye and quickly progressed into wailing and gnashing of teeth. Paul handled it perfectly and just held me and didn't say much until I finally unloaded all these feelings of failure and frustration and disappointment on him. Somehow he resisted the male instinct to "fix" things (although maybe in this case all men would wisely realize that would be a Very Bad Idea) and stayed within the realm of just being comforting. Eventually I fell asleep. This morning I woke up and felt better, both physically and mentally, went to work puffy eyes and all. Luckily I work with a bunch of dudes and no one noticed.

I have been having dreams about my ex, The Marine, these last few nights. Nothing inappropriate, he has just been there. They have been unsettling dreams. Not unhappy dreams, but not happy either. Today while my mom and aunt were here doing "energy healing" on me (another story for another day) I think I realized why I've been thinking about him.

I can't say that when he broke up with me it was completely out of the blue. I knew that since he had come home and rejoined "normal" we weren't really on the same page anymore. I think I was still imagining some storybook romance where the hero comes home from war and marries the gal that waited faithfully and then they have two kids, a dog (or cat) and a white picket fence. Okay, so that's not exactly what I had pictured, but I did have a pretty clear picture of my life with him in it. I had A Plan.

So when he clued me into the fact that despite all my best planning, he was not on board with the plan, I was crushed. So crushed I didn't shower, or leave the house, or eat for three days and my best friend had to drive three hundred miles and collect the pieces that were left of me into her car and take me home.

Is it wrong for me to sort of compare these two situations? Not that the whole breakup thing is anywhere near as devastating or traumatizing, but merely to show that I am a Planner and I tend to go ape-shit-bananas when my plans get jacked up. These are the only two times in my life where I felt quite assured that my best laid plan not only made sense but was completely achievable. Only to have my dream beaten to an unrecognizable pulp.

What do you do when life decides it does not care for your Outlook Calendar or your schedule or your timeline or pretty much anything else that helps you feel like you are in control? What do you do when life, like an insolent teenager screams at you "STOP TRYING TO CONTROL ME" and then hurls something at you just for good measure.

All you can do is that. Just stop. After initially falling apart, I quickly realized that my ex did not want what I had planned and there was no reason to agonize over it and sooner rather than later I was over it. My life moved on quickly and part of me was still pissed that the plan was dead, but I knew that soon enough there would surely be a new plan.

What makes this time harder is, I don't know if I have a plan anymore. Or what it is. Or if I should just stick my finger in my ears and go lalalala for now until I've got this all figured out.

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wingless was still breathing at 7:53 PM - 0 comments

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

save me, i'm lost

I am having a really hard time with this. For some reason I feel so much more defeated this time around. I think I am coming to the realization that what I have is not curable. After all this time, after five years, I think part of me was still clinging to the naive hope that I would finish up a course of medication and this would all go away. Like it was a sinus infection or something.

I am just so tired of this. I'm tired of this being part of my life. I'm tired of the fact that I can't just decide to have a child with my husband like millions of other young women my age are doing right now.

I never really grieved when I was diagnosed. I don't know if I felt like I needed to. I don't think I really understood the effect it would have on my life. I knew I was sick, I knew I would need medication, probably for years, but I was so young. I was only twenty-two, just graduated from college, still working my first job. Paul and I weren't even engaged yet, we had only been dating a few months. I wasn't imagining getting pregnant or what it would be like to be a parent with this disease.

I think that is the other thing that has been bothering me lately. I wonder how I can be a parent when I get tired so easily? I wonder how I can stay up all night with a newborn or a sick child when even one night with too little sleep causes me so much pain the next day. How can I do it? Can I do it?

And yet..

I want to be a mother. I want Paul to be a father. He will be an amazingly wonderful father, I know it. And I don't want to feel like I failed him. I don't want to continue failing. It is important to my husband to have biological children (he is very open to adoption but he has always been very honest about his desire to have biological children as well) and I don't think it is wrong for him to feel this way. I know he will love me even if I can't give him biological children, but I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive myself if that happens. If for some reason it turns out that I can never carry children, I will always know that if he had just chosen someone else he would have easily had what he wants.

This time just feels different. This "flare" feels like a wake up call. I'm helpless in all of this. The doctors don't really know what they're doing, at this point I probably know almost as much as they do about this disease. This may never go away.

All I can do is pray it does. Pray for supernatural healing.

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wingless was still breathing at 5:28 PM - 2 comments

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

my own worst enemy

That is just my utter and complete failure.

Wow, I have no idea where that came from. I'm pretty sure it didn't come out right, but I was sleep-blogging so who knows? Maybe I really am just that hard on myself. I think I was referencing my utter and complete failure in terms of studying.

Because, um, yeah. Utter and complete failure? About sums that up.

I haven't been feeling right lately. Emotionally or physically, though with me they can be tied together. My feet were aching like crazy with arthritis this morning, though they're starting to feel better now. I think it's because it's starting to get cold here. Emotionally, I just feel like I've been sucker punched by life. No particular reason, just tired and a little bit bitter.

I don't want things to change. I don't want things to stay the same. I just want to be happy where I am.

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wingless was still breathing at 5:37 PM - 0 comments

Sunday, August 23, 2009

in the sun - joseph arthur

I picture you in the sun
What went wrong
And falling down on your knees
Asking for sympathy
And being caught in between
All you wish for and all you seen
And trying to find anything
You can feel
That you can believe in

May God's love be with you
May God's love be with you

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wingless was still breathing at 9:15 PM - 0 comments

Saturday, August 08, 2009

long day

Is it really August already? Really?

I've felt like crap all day today. Too much to drink last night + period cramps starting first thing in the morning = all bad.

I don't think I feel very good about myself or my life right now. Whenever I'm hit by a wave of this self-loathing I have this inner dialogue with myself where I tell myself tomorrow will be better and I will be a better person tomorrow. I will make myself be better somehow. I will be kinder, more thoughtful, less bitter and angry. Yadda yadda. Inevitably, I fail.

I have to stop letting every little thing stress me out. I have to quit being so inside my own head. Over-analyzing every little thing. Second-guessing every word out of my mouth. I'm twenty-seven years old, when am I going to get comfortable in my own skin?

How will it suddenly happen after a lifetime of the opposite? How ironic that I am in sales and sometimes all I want to do is hide in a dark corner where I don't have to face anyone. Because sometimes I just hate myself that much.

And I'm so terrified of no one else but me
And I'm here all the time
So I won't go away
Well it's me, yeah well I can't get myself to go away
Yeah it's me, yeah well I can't get myself to go away
Oh God I shouldn't feel this way no

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wingless was still breathing at 9:13 PM - 0 comments

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

giving midnight snack a new meaning

Reading through my posts lately, and the things I've felt like writing but haven't, I wonder, how the eff did I become this person? This total downer that's always complaining and thinking that as long as I throw in the caveat "I have a lot to be grateful but..." that it's okay to just rail about life?

When did this happen to me? Or wait, have I always been this grumpy? Paul and I have this running joke that we've become that grumpy old couple on the porch, shaking their fists at "those young kids at their loud music" way before our time. The mental image is funny, but it's not really a joke.

Last night I had this very clear dream. Like most dreams it didn't make a whole lot of sense, but reflecting on it this morning it's meaning seems obvious.

I was at my parents home, in my sister's room which has a walk-in closet and I wanted to take a shower. Naturally, the closet has a shower inside so I walk in and find a shower head amongst all my mom and sister's dresses. Naturally. Anyway, there was a cat that looked a lot like my cat sitting in a pile of clothes but even in my dream it didn't make sense to me that there was a cat there (the shower in the closet though? made perfect sense. go figure). I remember thinking it must be a hallucination so I reached out to pet the cat and it clamped down and bit my hand and wouldn't let go. I knew Paul was just outside the door so I started yelling for him to come help me and he rushed in and pried the cat off my hand. Then the cat disappeared and everything went fuzzy and I asked him what happened and he told me that I had been biting my own hand. I looked down and saw human bite marks, really deep impressions across the top of my hand.

At first I wondered if maybe Taz had actually bit me for some reason in the middle of the night. Then Paul said maybe it means I'm afraid of someone close to me betraying me because I love cats, which, I love him but...?

I'm going with a more literal interpretation...which is I had to rely on someone else to keep me from gnawing my own hand off. My subconscious is telling me to quit being so damn self-destructive.

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wingless was still breathing at 7:04 PM - 0 comments

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

somebody stop me

I've been writing posts the last few days and then deleting them without hitting publish. There hasn't been any one single topic, just a general catalog of how sucky I've been feeling.

Let's face it, I don't really have a right to feel as crappy as I do. I am so lucky and blessed and should just be thankful for what I've got instead of sulking and spending large chunks of my day navel-gazing and over-thinking things to the point of unhappiness.

If someone were to ask me what's wrong I'd be hard pressed to find an answer that didn't make me sound like a spoiled, ungrateful little brat.

Hopefully recognizing how stupidly negative I'm being is the first step towards contentment.

there's a light at the end of this tunnel

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wingless was still breathing at 8:21 PM - 0 comments

Friday, May 29, 2009

life or something like it


I been there. In fact, I am there.

These last few weeks, months, I've been gripped by feeling deeply unhappy and unsatisfied, but also really grateful for what I do have.

Does that make any sense?

Let me give you an example: work. I get really depressed thinking that this may be it, this might be as far as I get, that twenty years from now I will find myself in the same seat as my uneducated, incurious manager who is happy to spend her days on personal calls as long as she can say she is The Manager. It's a terrifying thought and to be honest there are very few people like her coming into the industry nowadays...most are much more ambitious which is what brings them into banking to begin with.

Anyway, while I fret about things like where the hell is my career going, I also feel unbelievably luckily and grateful that I even still have a job to wonder about at all. I know there are many out there who don't have the luxury of bitching about their job anymore and I don't take that for granted. Plus, in this industry, no one really feels as though there's such a thing as "job security" anymore. Here today, gone tomorrow as they say...I pretty much feel a sense of relief when my key card works when I get to the office every morning. So yes, I am extremely grateful to still have my job and I do actually love a lot of things about it and try to remind myself of this every day (it really is a great job for now but probably not five years from now).

Then I ask myself, am I happy? And I know the answer to that is probably no. Am I unhappy? I don't know. Maybe?

Maybe I just need more sleep. Maybe I just need to quit that attitude like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe I need to stop being such a control freak, trying to figure it all out right now and just let it be.

Sigh. Oh well.

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wingless was still breathing at 9:14 PM - 0 comments

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

This should not be a long post. It should not. I am drugged up (Ambien), it's 9pm (I have to get up at 5am). Paul is out partying it up on St. Patty's day and I am here with the kitty and we are both kind of drugged up since she's recovering from having her teeth cleaned this morning.

The other day I went to work and the ambien had not fully worked it's way out of my system and I was apparently typing incoherent nonsense at my coworkers for several hours. So if this appears to be just some completely psychotic line of thinking feel free to ignore me. On the other hand, I feel like I have something to say.

I just want to know why. Why my life can be fine and why I can still be suffocating under this relentless fear. The older I get the more I start to think that this is just how life goes. There is never a moment to sigh peacefully and feel....like everything is fine the way it is and will stay that way forever. It's like being lost at sea in a violent storm...sure you can pull your head up for a few minutes and breathe, maybe grab onto some debris floating by, but soon enough, you're once again just trying to keep your head above water so you can breathe.

Lately I lie to myself. I say, "Self, if you could just get yourself healthy enough to have a baby next year then everything will be ok." Which I know this is ridiculous. I want to get healthy not just to have a baby but for me, but having a baby is not going to help me shake off what I've come to accept is just who I am.

It's me. Yeah well I can't get myself to go away.

I mostly hate that I'm back here again. Same spot, totally different circumstances. I have so many reasons to be happy and thankful. Amazing husband, good job, a nice apt in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. By all accounts I should be quite happy with my life. And yet I still feel like I'm working towards something - or rather that I should be working towards something. And so the relative non-movement as of late has me feeling a bit...stuck.

What does my life mean? What is it supposed to mean? And how can I make it mean what it was meant to mean? And why are the sentences I'm writing so ridiculous.

This is what happens when you give me sleeping pills, a computer and a thirty minute window for the pills to take full effect. Somehow it felt like the right thing to do.

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wingless was still breathing at 8:57 PM - 1 comments

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

damaged at best

Well, hello there! It looks like blogger has finally fixed the publishing glitch that made it so I couldn't update. I guess technically I could have uploaded something using an ftp server but that would have taken a lot of...effort. And I've been...tired.

I am doing better. I even wandered out and actually hung out with other human beings outside of work and other than Paul. Work has sort of improved. Life is holding steady. I still owe people emails (sorry Todd! I promise I will write you back as it's definitely been on my mind).

I'll be going on a cruise in a couple weeks and I can't wait. I hope somehow I'll come back recharged, reset, ready to face whatever is coming. The last few months have taken a lot out of me and I've felt like I've been slipping back into my old "I want to crawl into a dark hole wrapped in a warm blanket" ways. It's not as easy to do that, though, when you actually have a job and a husband and bills to pay. But I suppose this is a good thing since being depressed is not a great thing. Although it is somehow...comforting? It's familiar at least. Is that weird? Probably.

For the past few months I've been having a lot of dreams, nightmares, whatever you want to call them. Rarely do I wake up with a good feeling. I've even started taking sleeping pills off and on because it's the only thing that makes me feel like I've actually slept. I haven't been having any recurring dreams, they're always different, sometimes they're even kind of funny when I wake up and think about what the dream actually was, but I can't escape that uncomfortable feeling while I'm actually having the dream - and those first few seconds when I'm shaking out of unconsciousness. I can't pinpoint what it means exactly, except the obvious, something is bothering me. It would be easy to say it's work, it's the unknown of Paul not having a job, it's this, it's that. I don't know. I don't really care. I just want one non-drug induced dreamless night. I used to love having dreams and now I just want to not wake up feeling like I spent the whole night doing whatever happened in my dream.

Anyway, now that I've written a sufficiently non-coherent post, I shall leave you with these lyrics which I think do a pretty good job of summing up how I feel these days...By the way, how obvious is it that this is a Christian song in the guise of a secular one?

The broken clock is a comfort
It helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time
And I am here still waiting
Though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best
Like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning

The broken locks were a warning
You got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded
I'm an open book instead
And I still see your reflection
Inside of my eyes
That I'm looking for purpose
I'm still looking for life

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on
(I'm still holding)
I'm barely holding onto you

I'm hanging on another day
Just to see what
You will throw my way
I'm hanging on
To what you say
You said that I will be okay

Broken lights on the freeway
Left me here alone
I may have lost my way now
Haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on
(I'm still holding)
I'm holding on...
I'm barely holding onto you

- Broken by Lifehouse

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wingless was still breathing at 5:39 PM - 1 comments

Sunday, December 28, 2008


Some of you may have noticed, in particular those I owe emails to (all two of you know exactly who you are), I've kind of been in hiding. The last few months have been a nonstop sh*tstorm and it was sort of capped off with a particularly traumatizing event a couple weeks ago which I will not speak of. But the good news is that since then I've kind of started to come out of my self-prescribed seclusion.

The new year is coming but as I told my friend Henry the other day, I don't really buy into all of that new year, starting over bs. It's just another day. Turning points in your life come when you want them to and it has nothing to do with an arbitrary date set by whoever created the modern calendar. For me, a turning point came sometime in September when I gave up something that has pretty much been a part of my life for the last six years. I've also finally become fed up with all the weight I've gained since I started taking predn.isone four years ago and have been exercising - which is something I literally haven't done since P.E. in high school...eleven years ago.

So yeah, in case you were worried (which some of you probably were), I'm doing okay. I'm trying to make myself better, hopefully getting my life set in the right direction. Paul is doing well and taking to his domestic duties like a champ (he was always more suited to it than I was anyway). Despite my complete and utter inability to socialize or communicate with anyone other than Paul or my parents, I am still here and alive and I'll come out of it soon. I promise. In the meantime, just know, that it's not you, it's definitely me.

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wingless was still breathing at 11:23 AM - 0 comments

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

the point of exhaustion

I think I'm getting sick or something. I don't know. Today was just not a good day and I'm exhausted. Mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally...just exhausted in every imaginable way. I'm tired of worrying, tired of not living up to my own expectations...just...tired...of being...

I am trying so hard to stay positive, to keep my head above water, but honestly? I feel like I'm drowning.

Paul and I finally made it out to church this weekend in the city and the pastor gave us an assignment to pray daily this week about what we are thankful for. And I am thankful, I recognize all the blessings in my life, but I...I just miss the days of no responsibility. The days where I could hide in my little studio apartment for days at a time and not worry about anything really. I'm just so overwhelmed. And so lost as to where this is all leading and what it all means.

I picture you in the sun
Wondering what went wrong
And falling down on your knees
Asking for sympathy
And being caught in between
All you wished for and all you've seen
And trying to find anything
You can feel
That you can believe in
May God's love be with you

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wingless was still breathing at 6:47 PM - 0 comments

Friday, October 31, 2008

through good times and bad

Well. I made it through another week. And I must say, I've had some shitty jobs in the past (as some of you may remember) but I have never felt this utterly destroyed on Friday before. Seriously, if today wasn't Friday, I'm not sure if I could have made it through another day of work.

I don't know what I'm going to do, because I don't think I can take much more of this and I don't see anything changing for the better in the near future.

In fact, I'm fairly certain it's only going to get worse.

And it's just breaking me. Sometimes at work when people are asking me to do things and it's like fifteen minutes before the wire goes down, I just want to start screaming, not because I'm mad at them, but because I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm being pulled every minute in fifteen different directions and it just doesn't stop for twelve full hours. And even then, I only go home because my systems run on east coast time and they start crashing on me.

So of course, I've been a total shit to be married to. In fact, I'd be surprised if Paul hasn't considered divorce at least a couple times in the last few weeks.

For example I totally lost it last weekend when he had the audacity to clean the apartment, and then vacuum on top of it. I mean, the nerve right? First I yelled at him and then started bawling and he was just like, Dude? It even took me awhile to figure out what exactly pissed me off so much about him actually wanting to not live in a pig-sty, but eventually I realized it was because I like my outward environment to reflect what's going on inside and it bugged me that suddenly it was going to appear as though everything was just fine and dandy when I was still such a mess inside. He didn't exactly get it, but the amazing husband that he is, he let me cry and held me until I stopped and then made me leave the apartment with him. We went to the nail salon and I got a mani-pedi while he got his claws (i.e. toenails) groomed.

I honestly don't know what I'd do without this man. Nothing good, that's for sure.

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wingless was still breathing at 8:38 PM - 0 comments

Saturday, October 25, 2008

poor paul

I'm sure I've been a real joy to live with lately.

I'm tired and cranky. By the time I get home I have no energy to do anything so the house is a mess and I still haven't even finished unpacking from our trip (yes, we did get back two weeks ago, you wanna make something of it?). I'm depressed and angry and spend most of our evenings bitching about how much I hate...everything.

I seriously can't remember a time in my life when I've been a more angry person.

Oh and also, the alcoholism. We went out after work three times this week (just me and the other two sales assistants, since we are generally the only people there by the time we leave). By Tuesday we decided we needed to drink after work and we have been half-joking about how we should be taking a shot at noon (when the wire goes down and we have at least passed that deadline for the day).

I feel like I'm living at work and by the end of the day, the morning feels like the day before.

Now, on top of the mountains of crap I've had piled on me in the last couple weeks, I've got some new sales people to "assist." I guess I've been lucky because my existing sales people have always treated me with respect and have even seemed apologetic about the work they throw my way. The new ones? Not so much. One of them didn't even bother to introduce herself to me before sending me emails asking me to do crap for her. I thought she was someone in the NY office (and also thought she was a he) until my coworker was like, "Uh, I think it's that chick sitting over there." Um, okay, so you really think I'm going to prioritize YOU over the people who have treated me well for the past year and a half? Doubtful.

Considering I go way above and beyond what's in my job description for my current sales people, I'm sure I won't be getting in trouble for telling her she needs to do HER job, her own damn self. I don't mind going the extra mile for people who appreciate it, but why should I increase my own workload to make her life easier when a) I don't know her and b) she's already treating me like I'm her own personal bitch and it's her first week here.

I'm just at my wits end, hanging in limbo, not knowing if I'm "safe" for a week or a month or two months or indefinitely. And truthfully if this is how the job is going to be from now on? They don't pay me enough. This was never what I wanted to do for more than a couple of years because honestly I know I'm capable of much more...it was just supposed to be a jumping off point and I was already coming to a point where I was ready for more. I don't even know what my point is except to say, I'm so freaking unhappy right now.

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wingless was still breathing at 12:54 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, October 23, 2008

this is how i'm going to drive myself crazy

It's been a long time since I've cried. In fact, I believe it's been over a year, not since my friend E's funeral.

This may not be a very long time for some people, but I remember a time when I used to cry practically every day. Partly because I just cry really damn easily (e.g. the time I cried over a Life With Louie episode - the cartoon) but also because I used to be generally miserable and depressed.

Since I met Paul four years ago, I rarely cry. Somehow that seemingly unshakeable monkey on my back, the depression I'd felt my entire life just went away. Disappeared into thin air. The odd thing is that the depression never really made sense, I don't know that it was ever really about anything, so how can being with someone make it go away? I'm not sure. I've had boyfriends pretty much continuously since I was 13 and that never seemed to help before...

Anyway, that isn't the point of this post. Lately, I've just been feeling so crushed, I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread. Why? I don't know, it's just work in the end right? It doesn't make sense for me to get so emotional over it, but I am. And I feel like I really need to be able to cry over it but I'm so far removed from those days that I'm afraid to. I keep telling myself to stay positive, look at the bright side of things, but I really just want to curl up in a ball and sob myself to sleep. Part of me thinks it might even be good for me. What I'm doing now might just be setting myself up for something truly embarrassing like cracking at work and bursting out into tears over some tiny, insignificant trade issue when I finally can't hold it in anymore.

But then, I'm scared. I'm scared that if I let myself feel that way again I won't be able to stop. I don't think that will happen but what if it does? I don't know. I'm just so afraid to let myself feel sad.

And I tell myself, my life isn't so bad, I have it better than a lot of people. And I do, I know I do and I really appreciate how good things are relative to how they could be...but does that mean I don't have a right to be upset? We all have to live in our own lives right? Do I have to feel guilty about feeling bad that things aren't going the way I want them to just because things could be a lot worse?

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wingless was still breathing at 8:57 PM - 3 comments

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

This house is not a home

I touched on this in yesterday's post but this place still does not feel like home. Maybe it's the fact that I am mostly alone here all day long with no job and no cat and no I do not feel like leaving the apartment because that would require, I don't know, showering? Getting dressed? And I wouldn't know where to go and I am really not one who enjoys being outside because my bed is so damn comfortable there seems to be no good reason to actually get out of it.

So yes, I spend about 23 hours of the day in bed and I think I am depressed. Or something. I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen, only I don't know what that is. I thought I'd shake this feeling when I get back from Paris, but I still feel like I'm waiting for my real life to start. I'm still waiting to be happy with myself and starting to feel like that's probably never going to happen and I should just get over it.

This place just feels really empty and I know I should quit talking about my cat, because seriously how pathetic right? But every time I leave the house and come back I expect to see her run up to sniff my shoes and there's nothing. It's just quiet and empty and nothing else is alive inside except me, and only just barely.

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Thursday, May 24, 2007

Stand in the rain

Paul managed to calm me down, which I suppose is one of the multitude of reasons I am marrying him. Also, bridesmaids helped too which is why they are my bridesmaids and best friends and love them. (Aware that that was an incomplete, grammatically horrendous sentence and don't care.)

It's weird but being in France, five thousand miles away from Paul for almost five months was tolerable. For the most part I did not feel like I was about to go mad or have any sort of nervous breakdown or any other negative type reactions. Obviously I wasn't deliriously happy about it or anything but I also wasn't feeling like a crazy person ready to jump out of my skin.

I wish I could say the same thing about being a mere 360 miles apart. For reasons I can't quite put my finger on I'm having a much harder time with this. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there is so much to do and I am finally in a position to do it and I'm feeling a little bit like a deer in the headlights with a ten ton truck rushing at me at eight hundred thousand miles per hour. Typically when I'm feeling like this, Paul rubs my back, cooks something delicious and pours me a large glass of wine. But he is not here and so mostly I have just been pouring myself many large glasses of wine. Not exactly the healthiest of coping strategies I suppose.

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Monday, April 23, 2007

Round and round it goes

I'm having one of those unexplainable low moments. And I was doing so well.

Completely exhausted (physically). And slightly lost (emotionally). I'm feeling very apathetic, having a hard time making myself care about anything. Feel anything...specific.

Wondering if I've been in the middle of one big quarter-life crisis this whole time? (Like for the last three years). And if so, will it end soon?

It's that old thing creeping back, the one where I'm so uncomfortable in my own skin I wish I could just rip myself out. Tear it right off. Except that probably wouldn't make me feel any better because I'd still essentially be me underneath and maybe that's what I'm not comfortable with right now.

The funny thing is, even with all this, I know I've come a long way. Because I know this is going to pass. Tomorrow I will wake up and I will be more than just kind of okay. And if not tomorrow then hopefully the day after. Or maybe the one after that. But at some point, soon, I will love myself again.


wingless was still breathing at 2:12 PM - 2 comments

Thursday, March 29, 2007


I guess it's pretty obvious, but I feel compelled to say it anyway: I am not in an okay place right now. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not in a horrible place. I am not where I was a few years ago, locked in my studio for days at a time with no human contact and wondering what it would be like to slit my wrists in the shower. God willing I'll never be in that place again, but still, I'm not in a great place right now.

I kind of know what it's about, the job stuff, the wedding stress, being away from my family and Paul, an unpleasant roommate situation...I guess it's all of that and the uncertainty.

What the hell does the future hold?

And why can't I just trust that God is going to bring me through it, no matter what it is?

Why am I such a control freak?

Why am I so damn weepy all the time even though I had my period a week and a half ago? Why do I think about how if one more job inquiry goes unanswered I might throw myself out of a window?

Why do I call myself a loser and worthless and pathetic?

Why am I reverting to all this self-hate over something that's so insignificant in terms of eternity? My ability to find a job does not define my worthiness in the eyes of God. So why am I doing this to myself? Why am I buying into the way the world judges people? And why can't I stop myself from doing this?

Because I'm trying, or at least I think I am. I read my devotionals, and I try to take them to heart. The joy of the Lord is my strength. God can be trusted. I receive from God by faith. But I just can't make it stick for some reason.

For about five minutes I have that feeling of peace, that knowledge that things will be alright no matter what happens. And then I send out another email and get nothing back, and every time I check that damn inbox I feel my faith and sanity slipping away slowly.

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Monday, March 26, 2007

God Can Be Trusted

That's what the Daily Devotion in my email inbox told me this morning.

I know this doesn't really seem related, but trust me it is. Somehow. I think. But, you know what really sucks about living with so many people? Even if you happen to really enjoy the company of two of those people? Is trying to cry silently in the bathroom so no one else can hear you.

I don't know why I'm letting the whole never going to find a job thing get me so freaking depressed. Maybe it's not just about that, I don't know.

I know I'm a huge freaking baby. So sue me.

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Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Everything's gonna be alright...maybe

So that feeling of discouraged, panicky, desperation has returned in full force.

I had a good prospect, nay, a friggin' great prospect. But unfortunately my contact heard nothing back and I was supposed to follow up myself on it tomorrow but today the job disappeared off the company website. Ugggh. It was an ideal position in so many ways (the position itself, the company, the location, etc.) and now it's gone. Poof. Off the company website. And for some reason I find this to be completely crushing because I guess I had put so much hope into getting this job. This job was my holy grail of jobs and now it's gone. And I didn't even get a chance to bomb the interview.

Luckily I have a big glass of Bordeaux to comfort me. But I'm still not very comforted. Mostly just depressed and feeling that feeling I used to feel in high school when I was afraid I wouldn't get into college and I'd end up living as a bum inside of a cardboard box on the streets of San Francisco. (Yes, I realize I'm being melodramatic but I don't care, this is how I feel).

I know that I have to remember God has a plan for me and this is just all a part of it. Trust in the Lord and all that good stuff, I know it, I'm just having a hard time feeling it. I mostly just feel like a pathetic, crazy loser with no chance at a decent career. And when I feel like this it's really hard for me to "let go" of things and "just believe" that God will lead me to where I'm supposed to be. What can I say? It's the control freak in me. I have this obsessive need to know where I'm going and what's happening next. And maybe this is exactly the habit that God is trying to break me of, that feeling that I am in control. Because I'm not. Oh boy, am I not. Maybe that's the reason for all of this, the racist roommate from hell, the rejection, the desperation. Maybe this is the process, maybe He is breaking me.

But I still hate that feeling of not knowing.

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Saturday, February 24, 2007

Because I can

Hello, I'm back. Sort of. The last few days I've been feeling really blah. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, or I don't know, something else. Maybe I'm getting the two-month itch where I'm starting to really miss Paul, my family, my cat...I'm upset about missing the funeral, which is today. And I'm just feeling really...emotionally...tired. Exhausted. I just want to curl up and sleep for a week.

The problem is that I know this feeling and I know where it leads. It leads to me shutting myself into a dark room with no food and no showers for several days at a time. And you can't really do that when you have roommates because they will probably smell you.

Or, maybe, I'm just being melodramatic. Who knows? Apparently not me.

I think this is the worst part about having once suffered from depression - every time you get even an inkling that you're not feeling 100% mentally you start to wonder if you're headed down an old, dark, dingy road (oh and don't forget stinky).

I think I'll be okay though.

I'm just feeling a little bit lost. And a little bit nostalgic. You know how it goes, thinking about where you've been, wondering where you're going next. Wondering if you're going anywhere at all. Wondering if you'll ever get a halfway decent job. Feeling like you have no clue at all about anything.

Alright, I've had enough of my self-indulgent whing...for now anyway.


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