Does anybody read these?

Improvement?

I've lost 7 1/2 pounds, and I'm working out everyday.

I bought a house and I am working on organizing it and some cool projects to make it my own.

I joined a book club.

I am doing so many things right. I am following so many of the suggestions given to me to get my life back on track.

Yet, I have cried for at least 70 percent of today. I can't stop. I am so depressed it isn't funny. I even thought that maybe I don't need to be on earth anymore, but I am such a nice person (or maybe I'm a doormat) that I feel bad about killing myself before I tidy up my office. It would be hard for a new person to make heads or tails of how I have things set up in here. I know where everything is and lose things when I try to clean. Things like my magazine budget, which leaves me scrambling to finish up an article I didn't remember that I had to do. So, I can't kill myself because it would be hard for a new person to just come in here and pick up with my job. And, it's our busy time at the office.

I'm sure you all think that's a great excuse. Apparently I'm the only person who thinks a bottle of pills with a cabernet chaser is a good idea. Of course, I am also the only person who has this big, gaping hole where her heart used to be with absolutely no idea of how I am supposed to fix it.

I have discovered that I don't trust men. And I don't trust myself to choose a man who is not a complete and total asshole. This is partly, because I am like 99.9 percent sure that all men are complete and total assholes.

I am OK with being single. Really, it's less expensive although the sex is not that great. I just wish I had someone to grill my steaks or go on long drives in the country with on Sunday. I can't go by myself, I don't really remember my way around the country.

But it's not really about dating. It's not about being alone.

It's about feeling like a piece of garbage who is not even good enough for someone who is apparently a piece of garbage himself.

That is why I don't like relationships. You feel really great while you are having them, but then they go away and you feel like you are inconsequential and like you never mattered.

And, in some ways, I think it's better when you see it coming. When you already suspect that you didn't matter anymore. Because I don't know how you recover from getting blindsided. I don't know how you sit on someone's couch and talk about happily ever after on Saturday and they are gone by Monday. How someone can tell you that you mean the world to them and just walk away and act like you never existed. I will not ever understand this.

I know it's been a long time and it shouldn't bother me anymore. Or at least that is what everyone says. And it probably shouldn't. But seriously, it has left me in a million little pieces and even if I knew how to put myself back together, I'm pretty sure I am all out of glue.

I want to convince myself that God really has a plan here, and apparently this wasn't God's plan. I really do. But I don't know anymore. I don't even get to church like I used to. I know everyone at church loves me and wants to help me, but things just don't seem to ever get better. Just when I think I might be OK, something comes along and kicks my legs out from under me again.

I am going to try to hang in there, although I am not really sure why anymore. Maybe things will pick up. Maybe I will lose myself in making a towel rack for my bathroom and be suddenly cured of my melancholy.

Maybe I just need to fill up my gas tank, crank up the Alanis Morrissette and just drive...

posted by Laura at 2:41 PM