A Breakup Tale In So Many Parts


Parts 57 & 58
Part 57: 65 days, 13 hours, 13 minutes since you left me...
Wow. Being a grown up is hard work.
I've been in a financial and emotional shit storm since you left and it's just getting worse. Add to the fact that this is really the first time I guess that I've really been on my own, ever, in my life. I'm learning really quickly as I go. I've never worked so hard to learn and stay afloat in my life.
Crapadoodle.
I feel like Sandra Bullock in that "Hope Floats" movie, where she has to move back home because her husband leaves her and takes everything and she has her tail between her legs. But this isn't a movie and Harry Connick, Jr. isn't comeing by in a cowboy hat to rescue me.
Moving back home after twelve years in NYC, when things are happening in my career. I can't let that happen. I will sell everything I own to not let that happen.
I will not fail. I will not lose.
I want to crawl under the covers and stay there.
My father was right, everyone whoever said I wouldn't make it was right, that little voice in my head is right... they're right. I'm too damaged, too broken, I can't make it in the real world on my own. "Why did she move back home?" "She was talented, but she couldn't handle it out there on her own, she's got mental problems... because she was molested.... because she takes medication... because she's unstable, crazy, poisonous, shredded, obsessive, compulsive, toxic, faded, unmotivated, used, burned out, raped, reviled, cheating, decimated, kicked, dirty, desperate, sad, sorry, anorexic, bulimic, alcoholic, drug addicted, weak, manipulative, disjointed, buried, beaten, hateful, hated, stubborn, maleficent, split, out of line, out of her mind, hideous, deformed, morbid, destructive, dark, putrid, fetid, incapable, retarded, alone, alone, alone, alone and insane, insane, insane and she never leaves her Mother's house anymore".
I won't stay under the covers. I won't listen to any one's words that try to hurt me. I will not fail.
I will work for it and I will achieve it.


Part 58: 66 days, 19 hours, 21 minutes since you left me...
I'm not going to lie. I'm having a hard week.
I'm not feeling very strong right now, not even to "fake it 'til I make it".
Whatever forces have been working within or without me to beat me down have succeeded in beating me down right now.
I am out of work. I owe everyone money, a lot of money. Rent's behind and increased. Insurance is due today and I don't have it yet. The attorney is expensive. The psychiatrist is expensive. My meds are expensive. the cat's meds are expensive. I have a loaf of bread and some PB & J. My house looks like a war zone and my sick kitty thinks the kitchen sink is his litter box.
I feel alone. I live alone. I am alone. I go out with friends and fake it but don't make it. I miss my best friend, but I can't have him in my life ever again.
I'm sure it's probably not true, but I feel like you've got it so much better than me right now. I'm not mad at you. Just sad. You are completely free of me. You are free of my illnesses, my neurosis, the cats, the house, the bills, everything. Especially the me part. Me and my shit, right?
Toxic.
I can't find my iPod to help me escape and I feel adrift without music. I left in LA, I think.
The attorney said you agreed to the terms we asked for, so that's settled. And I'm unsettled, because it's almost over and that chapter means another Loser sticker on my record. Another failure. The thought of the finality of signing divorce papers is terrifying. Then what? I'm 38. Then what? Then where? Then how?
What all exactly am I holding onto? There are things so much deeper than all of this here in these pages and the time has come...
But I'm so tired. And I miss my friend. And I'm so flipping tired.
Strange, it's like the first few weeks after you left all over again. Like a ton of bricks. The house seems cavernous again. Echo... echo... echo... Probably because I tried to recover so quickly, riding that adrenaline high and this is the sugar crash.
Too many Pixie Sticks and Lick-M-Aids. CRASH! Right into the shit.
Right into financial and emotional crisis after a hellish vacation where I transformed into Codependent Cathy driving her Control Cadillac (with mags and headers).
Look out everybody, I'll save you and, if not, I'll run you over!!
I feel sick and sad today when I want to feel strong and healthy.
Like bull...
I don't want to be strong today. I feel like I can't make it on my own today, I feel so frigging small.
It's strange and disturbing to me how you just disappeared.
Poof!
Like that.
So fast to get away from me.
Into thin air.
I haven't seen you since... when?
I don't want you here, but
I just realized how
empty
everything
feels
today.
And I am finding the reasons you left so valid. I am listening to them again and wounded and deflated to the point where I allow the words to convince me they are the truth.
My armor is cracking.
I am so tired right now. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to ask "What am I going to do?" anymore. I don't recognize my face at this crisis point.
But I said here, in these pages, that I know what to do to survive and stay strong.
Get up.
Keep going.
I know what to do to keep surviving. I didn't make it this far just on my looks, you know.
So do it, right?
Yeah.
So do it.
Can I just do it tomorrow?