Sleepless in San Diego




Surprisingly I did not wake up this morning upset. I am still sad about what happened between J and I and a small part of me is hoping he will text or call.

Last night, he did not call back. I guess he fell asleep or was uncomfortable with me texting him how I felt. Anyway, I was poking around online and found stuff I was upset at and just wrote a long email; I couldn’t afford the emotional resources to continue on with this relationship. I’m drained. I’m done.

But anyone who is a sucker for love like I am is secretly hoping this is all a dream. That he will email or call me. I know better. Anyway, I am trying to motivate myself to get ready for my appointment with the counselor. I’m hoping it will help. I’ve mostly written about J but work and home makes me miserable too.


My lover’s gone…


I always hear about lovers separating or breaking up after so many years and I cannot phantom how it feels because walking away from J after 3 feels like my whole world collapsed.

On the somewhat bright side, I have a therapy session tomorrow. Kind of bummed it’s not an appointment with the psychiatrist because I surely would not mind something to help me sleep and/or numb me. I also have a 3 day weekend which I am prepared for with books and netflix.

And I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.
And I still love him, I love him.

Even artichokes have hearts


The red flood gates burst open around 5 this morning. I know, gross but what is cruel is feeling like your uterus is being stabbed with Satan’s claws. I am seriously considering getting my tubes tied because I am over it and because of my SB. I have a high risk of conceiving a child with the same birth defect plus I have a million other things wrong with me.

I was in so much pain, that I didn’t even go to the library today to do my time. I felt like an asshole but in all fairness, I am a volunteer. Plus, I showed up yesterday. I do love it once I am over the motions of dragging myself there. I love the staff, discovering new material on the shelves when I am in the middle of a task, the smell of the library, the AC, and because of my actual job they always assign me crafts. It is nice to feel appreciated.

But while I am battling the red tidal waves and guilt, I am noticing my fat is sneaking back on my hips, tummy and butt. I did weigh myself and the gain is only a few pounds but pretty soon it is back to MyFitnessPal and omitting bread items. Boo.

  • Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness

  • Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters

  • Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports

  • Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much

  • Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort

  • Changes in appetite — often reduced appetite and weight loss, but increased cravings for food and weight gain in some people

  • Anxiety, agitation or restlessness

  • Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements

  • Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself for things that aren’t your responsibility

  • Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things

  • Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide

  • Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches


I’m a Classic Man


As predicted, my PMS would be a roadblock between J and I. I am still hurt about “the incident’, and so I’ve had little patience for mistakes. Over the past two days, my anger and hurt has boiled over and I exploded into a series of disappointed text messages. Of course, I scared him away but I am so relieved that I got that anger and disappointment off my chest. All I wanted was for him to be a good boyfriend.

I skipped working at the library today, I was too exhausted. I came home and passed out under my dying fan. I should curl up with a book later. I checked out a volume of Wolverine, there’s also a couple other novels including a biography I need to finish in under 20 days (even though I always renew my check-outs). Oh and I also checked out a driver’s handbook. Have to crack that open soon lol

Joke’s on me.


I’m actually too exhausted to write anything. I promise to update tomorrow.



Nothing like waking up to a phone call that you’re late to work…on your day off. Today was just awkward and annoying and I am glad it is over.

Today, I had the strangest urge to cut. There’s so many nasty and negative emotions that are fogging up my judgement but in the end, I will over come this.

“I can’t find a goddamn fucking job and I’m too fat to be a stripper.”

Not that Kind of Girl- Lena Dunham


I spent my day feeling half alive. I suppose it’s less morbid than “half dead”.

Speaking of morbid, I saw a hearse the other day and was reminded that it is still my dream car. All I have to do is force myself to learn how to drive. I’ve only been telling people that forever.

There is a slight challenge with my disability (muscle weakness in my right foot; I can barely move my ankle and toes) and it doesn’t exactly make me enthusiastic to be on the road without hand controls.

Today I wanted to update my blog with photos of my trip to the beach but my mom decided she had more important things to do so I stayed home with her melting in this heat. Got a few chapters in of Not that Kind of Girl and advanced my Sims in their careers.

I think it’s time for bed soon.


There is nothing more exciting than having the weekend off, especially when you work retail. Other than it feeling like a breath of fresh air, I am excited about sleeping in and not being someone’s bitch-slave.

So I am entering the red zone soon. I am binge eating, emotional, horny and cranky. And because I am pmsing and emotional, I foresee this being a roadblock between J and I. All I keep seeing in my head is when I saw him plastered all over those websites. Even better, I forced myself to look at the screenshot of it. I suppose the break was supposed to help me heal and get over it but he was upset and assumed it meant we were breaking up indefinitely.

Yesterday I was too exhausted to write hence the short post. I traveled a long way by bus to the psych building and sat with a psych nurse who took her time to ask me questions and log my history. She spoke very softly despite my mentioning of me being hard of hearing and my eyes wandered to the doodles pinned on her wall, gifts from younger children.

Questions had ranged from “are you feeling homicidal?” to “how would you describe the relationship with your father?”. There is a certain type of honesty that is refreshing sitting in the psychiatric unit at almost 30 than when I was a child. More freedom, so to speak.

To touch more on yesterday’s post, I have Spina Bifida and like I mentioned I am hard of hearing. Growing up, I was bullied to the point where I wish I were dead. It went beyond name calling and being physically pushed around. It came with students scheming on how to (successfully I might add) get me suspended or forced to sit alone during recess. I lost friends and never got to experience childhood love. It didn’t get better until I was in my teens and even then, it went from being in the 7th level of Hell to maybe the 4th or 3rd; still sucked ass but I was finding myself. Anyway to get to the point, I was always someone else’s punching bag. If not at school, it happened at home.

As an adult, I am less tolerant of it. I am still building my backbone but I will get there eventually. ladygaga



“M, how was your childhood?”

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