Posts Tagged 'sad'

Woah where the fuck have I been?

Wow. It’s been almost 2 years. A lot can happen in 2 years. Lives can change, people can grow, horrible tragedies can happen….

…yeah some of that happened but let’s not get crazy here. It’s really not all that exciting. In fact it’s kinda downright boring.

So last I posted I was moving to Seattle. Yay for me! Holy crap that was a long time ago. Sorry I just can’t get over that. Yeah I moved to Seattle for 10 months and decided that I would be insane to continue living there. Depressed infertile divorcing people should not move to Seattle. There should be a law about it. The sky is a unique shade of grey. Let’s just leave it at that because there is good and bad up there but overall I had a hard time. (And to be fair to the lovely residents of Seattle, I wasn’t in my right mind. Don’t hate me for hating Seattle during a crisis ok? I was getting a divorce after years of infertility. Remember? Yeah.)

Fuck I dont know where to begin here. Nothing is the same. Literally nothing. Will bullets help? Yeah let’s try that:

– moved to seattle
– started hanging out with old grunge rock stars
– hated seattle
– got a call/job offer to move back to Cali
– moved back to Cali and started over
– bought a house for me and the kids (Sandy and Monster)
– stayed in touch with Mark and had INSANE-reality-tv-show-style-drama-that-didn’t-really-effect-me-personally-but-woah-was-fucking-crazy-because-his-life-has-fallen-completely-apart
– got fired from new job (oh there will be a post about this…)
– started working for baby company. Ironic? Umm yes

-lost 57 pounds
– Sandy died
– world ended

…so we caught up now? Yeah I think we may have glossed over a few things but perhaps this list can serve as gigantic chapters haha.

One thing I’d like to point out to the world that really I should keep to myself is that I have been single this entire time. Yup. I’m lame. Total loser right over here. I might regret this post in the morning LOL.

So for now I guess all I can say is that I’m back. Not sure this blog makes sense for my life anymore, but maybe feedback? No. I’m not trying to have a baby anymore. For now. Or ever? God I dont know.

Anyway…I am considering reinventing the babybound blog. It’s not the same and I am certainly many phases backwards from said original goal, but could this be a playground for ridiculous banter about my completely ironic job choice? Maybe? Or maybe you can all laugh at my absolutely ridiculous life of singleton after infertility. That works for me. Thoughts?


Please. Let me be sad.

I love my friends.  I really do.  I have great people around me that have been nothing but supportive.  Most of who read this blog so clearly any and all barking will not be done here…after today.


I am really having a hard time with them.  Nobody will let me just be sad.  I’m fucking sad ok?  Just let me be sad!  Let me morn.  Let me miss him.  Let me cry.

I get it.  He’s a pig.  Yeah yeah.  But the more everyone sits around and tells me he’s a dirt bag, the worse I feel.  It isn’t helping.  In fact, it feels like judgment.  It feels like everyone ganging up against me.  Like I’m no longer allowed to have my own thoughts or feel my own feelings.  Like everyone around me is so afraid that I’m not going to do what it is that they want me to do that they forget that I’m a person that just lost her husband.  Let me be a wreck.  Let me say I miss him!!

Someone recently told me that 97% of my relationship was a nightmare and that I should just move on.  Wow.  Do they really think that I stuck around for 3%?  I mean common.  That’s just insulting.  Do I come off as that weak?  I can’t even imagine what that would look like.  Can you?  3%?  That would mean about 5 hours a year  with Mark were OK.  WTF?   I’d really like to think I’m stronger than that thank you.

It wasn’t until 2.5 years ago that things started to go sour with Mark and I.  Up until then, our 7.5 years together had been almost perfect.  We never fought.  We had fantastic sex like rabbits.  Mark loved every inch of me – and I him.  It was as if there was nobody else on this planet that could make me that happy.  We were even kicked out of the preliminary marriage counseling because we were told in the first session that it was “unnecessary” for us.  Mark and I were fantastic.  We had excellent communication with each other.

So what went wrong?  Well that’s a loaded question.  A few things:  First, our pride and joy, Daisy was killed and it seemed as though our world ripped apart.  We had failure after failure at pregnancy.  Then, we moved to San Francisco – a decision that I think was probably at the top of our stupid list.  Several big changes, and a lot of bad decisions.  All in all, life happened.

We used to be a disgustingly adorable couple.  We made people jealous of us.  Mark isn’t evil and I refuse to believe that he is now. There is a huge difference between evil and illness. He is sick and unwilling to get better.   I understand that.  I accept it.  But Jesus Christ I don’t have to like it.

Let me be sad.  I need to be.  I need to morn and cry.  For god sake let me cry.  I need to do this.  I need to remember why it is that I married him.  Not because I am looking for a reason to get back together with him.  I’m not that weak.  But the more everyone tells me he’s horrible the more they are judging me.  My choices.  My decisions.  My life.

It’s not what I need.  It’s not what I want.  I want to cry.  I need to cry.  And I don’t need to be told what to do.  I think I’ve proven already that I make decent choices.  Stop making it seem as though I’m incapable of doing so.

Not everyday can be awesome right?

I’m trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I fear the only way that I will see success in this area is to resort to something that looks a little like this:

And yes.  My arms and legs really do look that out of proportion to the rest of my body.  I like to think its genetic.

This is not me.

I’m sad.  I’m alone.  I’m not happy with this situation.  Nothing I have done has worked out the way I thought it would/wanted it to. My friends don’t like me anymore.  My family stopped calling to check on me.  My dog took up peeing on the rug.  I am so down I can’t even move forward.  Or backwards.

I think I’ve hit some sort of bottom?

Its gonna be the party of the century

Everyone inside my computer has really worked their booty’s off to lift me up.  And well?  You did.  I am so grateful for all the interesting perspectives and I really do like hearing any point of view here – even if it isn’t the same as mine.  Despite what Mr. Boy has to say, I’m not always right and the more point of views I can hear, the better I can be about forming my own opinion.  (Its called research, fucker.  People that do it, have stronger opinions that aren’t based on spontaneous bursts of emotion.  You should try it sometime.)

Today I am at a bit of a low.  This whole situation seems pointless to me.  I’m spinning my wheels trying to get Mark to actually take some responsibility and show me that he actually cares enough to want to make up for what he’s done.  He’d rather just blame me so that we can be on an even playing field here, but I am never going to see it that way.  I need to see him change.  I need the grovelling.

No matter how mean he thinks I am, or how horrible my personality is, at the end of the day,  he married me for a reason. I never left him.  I never abandon him.  I was always here through all of his setbacks, illnesses, problems, etc.  I never ever let that small window of doubt seep in and make him feel alone and scared.   He married me because of my personality, and my loyalty and my strength and he has always been able to count on the fact that I am here.  No matter what.  Sadly, he couldn’t give me the same peace of mind and for that, he should be sorry.

Whether he likes it or not, he is going to have to pay a price for this.  Period.  That price is either going to be to suck it up and grow up, or to lose me, his life, and every bit of respect from everyone around him.  Both choices suck for him, but my choices suck too.  Too bad.  Grow the fuck up.  Lock your pride up in the closet with your stubborn suit and put on that cute vulnerability onsie.  Its literally the ONLY way back from this into my life.  Pride has no seat at this table.

I’m going to completely avoid any contact with him for now.  I need a break from the beating.  I’m obviously completely open to apologies, flowers, groveling, public displays of remorse, 3 carat diamonds, etc. but holding my breath for that might end in a hospital stay and an oxygen mask.  Those things leave really nasty red lines on your face though so I’ll stick with avoidance and plan myself a pity party.

This is so much harder than it looks.

Happy Easter and all that crap.

Today was hard.  Really really hard.  I went to my parents this weekend for the holiday and everyone today asked me:  “Hey where is Mark”.  To which I replied:  “O he’s sick”.  Which I pride myself on being honest about because frankly, he is sick.  In the head.  My grandma pushed further and wanted to know if it was related to his hand, and if he was ok, and if I had talked to him this morning, and if I was bringing home some of the food for him, and if I was worried about him.  Ouch.  That hurt.  I’m barely holding it together as it is.

Then while we were all sitting around the table, the whopper of a stabbing hit me right between the eyes when I wasn’t expecting it.  And from a source that I would never have guessed.  Favorite Aunt.

Somehow the topic of there being more boys than girls at the table came up.  Why?  Hell if I know, my family talks about all kinds of strange crap.  Fav Aunt got really loud and said to my sister, “Now sister, there are too many boys here.  You need to get to work and make some girls.”  <cue dead silence and confusing stares>  Sister replies: “Umm, why don’t you bug someone else about that.  This baby house is closed.  But I’m not the only woman of fertile age at the table.”  <cue more confusion, more awkward silence and a lot more uncomfortableness from fav Aunt, Mom and Dad…o and me>

No matter how much my sister and grandmother pushed, nobody would say it to me.  Nobody.  It was way fucking worse than just letting it go and laughing it off.  I actually felt myself become a white elephant.  I even think my nose got longer right there at the table.  My sister and grandmother have no idea about Mark being gone or my infertility.  So they did what made sense.  But fav aunt never should have brought this up.  Just reminded me that I am now alone, baron, and sad.  And it doesn’t even matter if they felt awkward because Mark left me, or if its because I can’t have babies.  Both fucking suck.  And both make me want to check out cutting, or crack.  Or both.

I left early.  I really miss Mark.

Taking a separation

Bullets are all I can handle right now:

  • Mark left me.
  • Came home, packed bags, and left.
  • I found out tonight that Mark has been out of recovery for months.  (he’s been in AA treatment for 3 years)
  • Mark has been lying to everyone.  Telling me one thing, and everyone else something completely different.
  • There’s a lot of crap that I didn’t know.  Crap that is bad.
  • He’s gone.  He’s not coming back.
  • I am suppose to call an attorney in the morning.  I have to be logical??
  • Marriage:  Failed

Sorry Emma, my timing of my intellectual advice is obviously off.  Don’t listen to me.  I suck at it.

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