I had no idea it were to be this way. I thought One’s 30’s were a magical time when your shit comes together and you make the most of life every morning.
Maybe that’s the general consensus because most people do have their life and family well underway. Meanwhile I’m reaching for for anything that will give me motivation in the morning to get up and participate in life with contentment.
God, I’m fucking tired of my non-single friends that don’t understand.
I can’t justify just how fucking soul-crushing it is when I finally go on a date with someone I met off POF and it went well and I never hear from him again. Unless you’ve never been fully appreciated you’ll never know how hard life is.
So I understand that we generally don’t look for God or a relationship with Him thru Christ unless we’re in troubled waters but this is nuts. I feel like I’ve barely been afloat for years and no sign of Him.
It’s fucking with my Faith. How do I have Faith when I feel like a corpse living out my days?
It’s so hard.
I zoom in as much as possible into her Facebook selfie. I throughly examine the lack of edges on her ridiculous, bulging, overly-inflated lips. Grotesquely unnatural. But men don’t care. His dickhead probably loves that her mouth is like a huge puffy glossy vagina.
I hate in disbelief. Starring. Typical Hollywood, trying-to-be-famous, not-just-Instagram-famous, Los Angeles narcissist. She’s friends with like-bodied, social media popular, big-breasted “curvy girls”, as well as unthought of -Z list celebrities.
She’s whack. I say it with jealousy but also some validity. I stalked them long enough to see he left her too. My heart grinned. But when I realized he wasn’t coming back to me either, I went for my sweats to sit, eat, and taste my Humble Pie.
Although I don’t think they’re together, I can’t help but to tap to her profiles sometimes. It’s like I love to feel insecure about myself. Her bright red fake hair, looking pretty dirty and stringy; I seek out how her flaws are worse than mine. Sigh. They’re probably not. And if he were going to go back to someone, even for just some ass, he’d probably hit up her porn-star looking self.
It can’t be healthy to dwell in these thoughts.. Or actions. I just prolong my journey to self-validation. I know I’m pretty awesome. I just wish I wouldn’t forget so often.
I so desperately don’t want to be alone.. I so desperately want to learn and know God’s love so I stop seeking it in other people.
Sometimes I really think I’m “getting over it”. At times I have a peaceful hopefulness that refreshes my mindset. Although, often enough I can’t help but remember: I’m alone and “he’s” not coming back. And then I can’t come to terms with the possibility of meeting anyone better. It’s so hard to kid myself. I’m almost there tho.. I think. Ugh, no I’m not. This nagging hope. I’m trying. Trying to let go and not look back.
I mull things over in my mind, dissecting the true fear and sadnesses of my feelings and thoughts. Do I actually miss “HIM” or the most beautiful, calming, soothing soulful sensations he evoked inside of me? Does it matter? He alone could stop this longing.. And so I think.Do you ever say to yourself, at random, “I MISS YOU SO MUCH”, and you weren’t necessarily thinking of a particular person? It’s how I go on everyday. I FUCKING MISS YOU, I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU… IM FUCKING WITHERING AWAY ..”
It has to be one in the same; “Him” and all the lovely things he woke in me.
Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me and I can’t make someone truly love me.
Off to finish the rest of my weekday, mundane routine.
I haven’t been properly fucked in about a year now. Even longer since I’ve been genuinely adored. I’m a sad sulky being, particularly in the morning when the only thing that motivates me is not being fired. I’ve decided to start blogging my struggles in an effort to help myself and perhaps someone else that’s feeling alone or the same.
I guess I’m like a lot of .sad. introverts that feel guilty for for being sad because I should already have everything to make me happy.. Do I tho?
I like being a alone. But not this kind of alone. After I’ve recharged I deeply desire a connection to another human. It’s been years since having someone. I’m tired of being reminded that I’m 34 and the older I get my children are likelier to have Down syndrome. I can’t even find someone to marry let alone someone to procreate with. I’m over people thinking I must really damaged to still be single. I’m over thinking I must be really damaged to still be single.
Being sad makes me bitter in other areas of my life and that’s what I hate. I don’t want to take out my subconscious hurt on others but I’m sure there’s times when I’ve been harsh. It’s been a spiritual journey to say the least.
I’m an unconventional Catholic. New age Catholic? I don’t know, I believe Christ, God, Afterlife, etc. it’s probably part of my problem. Faith is everything to Believers. My struggle is accept “God’s will”. I’m kicking and screaming the whole way, not wanting to let go of my desires.
I’d love to smoke some weed, sign out, and mellow out but I’m dry. Oh yeah, I smoke herb. Writing and weed are the best therapists. And I’ve seen a therapist, so I know.
I guess it’s time to handle some necessities. I welcome you to follow me, tho I don’t know where I’ll end up.
Getting into succulents as of late.