It’s Not Okay

I hate feeling like I do. I hate feeling crazy, defeated, confused, sad. Most of all I hate feeling alone. So miserably alone. I’ve been thinking lately. Maybe I should see someone myself. Maybe I need to search for a way to fuel my own soul when my entire week is spent fueling others. But I don’t want to leave – I do, badly – Don’t get me wrong. Yet, in the same breath I don’t. I love my house. I love my dogs. I love the way this life looks on the outside. I don’t want to admit how horrible it really is. I don’t want to see the ugliness that divorce would bring. I don’t want to give up my hope that someday he could be nice. Always. Maybe that’s the point of talking to someone. To say these thoughts out loud. Is there anything to work through if I won’t leave tho?

Yeah. Right. Nice. I deserve so much more. My heart hurts more than it doesn’t. It’s 5:30 pm. I’m laying in bed already. Waiting for the Xanax to kick in. Waiting to feel numb. Waiting to not feel so damn alone.   I spent 9 hours listening to others peoples problems when I can’t even fix my own. Ironic.

He feels he did nothing wrong. “Fine, I’ll admit it was a bad choice but it really isn’t a big deal…”. Really? You’re kidding. How would you feel if I did the same. If I left the bar with a guy and came home at 5 a.m. That would be fine? No. No it wouldn’t be. Fucked her or not – Who does that when you’ve got a wife at home? Is it appropriate to even “just drive & talk” for that long. No. No it’s not.

It makes me sick. It literally physically hurts. It emotionally hurts. I live for the moments I can come lay in bed and just cry alone. I wish I could stop my mind. But I can’t.

I’m just so freaking sad and lonely.