Ok. What am I doing? Seriously. 

I am rudderless. I keep searching for someone or something to cling on to… who will get me where I need to go. The only person who is going to do that is me. This is bullshit. 

I’ve been dulling and sating myself so I don’t get angry enough to actually do something. Or fed up enough. I am EXISTING right now. 

I will be 45 in a week. 

I am miserable. Disconnected. Overstuffed. Underutilized. I am lonely sometimes. Not all the time though. I’ve leaned in to my loner-ness. 

Where do I start? Where do I start Where do I start?

I’ve started and gone down so many dead ends that I’m tired. Why bother? The bridge will be out down the road. But where is my sense of adventure. Mulling around in this clearing wasting time. Wearing circles in the grass. What is the worry? It cannot be worse than this. This is terrible.  

I’m so fucking tired of trying again and I think I’ve just given up at so many things. Rested in the comfort zone. That’s ok actually. That’s what its there for. Have I rested enough? Who cares. Time continues on. 

Who cares.

Yeah – I guess this is a funk. I’m not sure what to really do with myself. It’s the first week of school so maybe I’m just kind of feeling out of sorts dude to the schedule change. 

I’ve been thinking about what I’m doing with my life. SO much time sitting outside, smoking, and watching stupid tv shows that I barely care about. I had a therapist who would always question why I couldn’t just let myself veg out. Like, honestly – aside from the weed and cigarettes, there’s nothing wrong with watching a few hours of tv at night. I think most people do this. 

But I guess this goes back to my belief that I am not most people. 

I’m driven by art and beauty and creativity. I guess this sounds kind of smug. But I do feel strongly that I see the world as an artist. Like I’m part of a relatively small group. 

YET – when I think consider attempting to become a full time musician or artist, I begin to think “well what makes me so special?” You know? There’s a cognitive dissonance in there. But this spins me into examining all of the things that make me “less than”. It’s exhausting. And also a little self absorbed if you think about it. 

I think I get aggravated when I feel like I am spinning my wheels. 

Let’s also heap a little mom guilt on there. I missed the deadline to sign my kid up for aftercare so for the month of September, he is with me every afternoon… while I’m working. I feel like I should be taking him around to do awesome things but I’m not able to. So he watches tv and the guilt spiral continues. 

I’m tired. 

Also dating apps are so terrible. Online shopping for people. 

I’m still feeling sullen. I took yesterday off of work which was helpful. Today, not much was going on at work. I did some stuff while watching episodes of 20/20 and Ghost Hunters. I do feel relaxed. I also noticed how I keep napping. Like just to shut my brain off. This is depressive behavior. My dreams have been really intense too. So, it’s not even a respite.

I’ve told a couple of friends how I’m feeling which is new for me. It makes me feel safe to know that a couple people know how I’m feeling. In case I fall too deep. Someone will look for me. I won’t. I’m in control. But these things can move quickly I guess.

I’m coming up on a year of being here. Thursday will be our second Thanksgiving alone. I’m sure that is weighing on me. Part of me just wants him to be here. I miss comfort. So much. This fucking sucks. 

Anyway… tonight I would like to work on some knitting. I’m making two little dog sweaters for my friend’s dogs – one of whom was just attacked and almost died. He has lots of stitches and shaved fur so I wanted to make something to keep him cozy. And her other pup has probably been stressed so he’ll get one too. And I made her a hat. 

I love being able to give knitting and pottery gifts to my friends. I’m always not great at communicating how important people are to me. So sometimes it’s a good way for me to show them. 

I’ve also been working on a painting for the past few nights and I am excited about it. It was a piece I started right after a very intense meditation. I closed my eyes and painted some of the images I saw. Now I’m building on that with collage. It’s been very relaxing. 

No clue what I’ll make the LG for dinner. Hot dogs and chicken nuggets have been appearing regularly over here but whatever. I gotta do what I gotta do. He always gets two veggies and eats them. Why am I justifying myself? 

Ugh. 

Last night was my favorite annual concert. We’d taken a year off because of the old pandemic. Should’ve been our 9th but it was really our 8th. It’s always a big high on that night and then I inevitably become very depressed for the next few days. 

I suppose it’s the huge hit of community love, combined with giving 100% on-stage, continuing the night of spending time with people I don’t get to see nearly enough and then it’s all over. I get depressed on 12/26 too. I always have. This concert is kind of a season. The prep, the promotion, the event, and then nothing. 

This year is particularly gutting for me. I’ve endured the most emotionally challenging year of my life while being relatively isolated from friends and activities that I find nourishing. I spend most of my time at home with my son and dogs and it’s generally lovely. But this event was a big reminder of how  lonely I am. 

I’m someone who enjoys being by myself and I often need to retreat and re-charge. But this has been too much, I guess. Like, if you eat the entire cake, you’re going to feel like shit. 

I spent my teens and 20s with very low self esteem.  I spent my 30s building it up and authentically feeling that I am pretty smart, I get shit done, I have things that I’m good at, I’m generally likable, and reasonably attractive. These actualizations were in SPITE of hearing nothing of the sort from my former partner. 

This carried through until the last 6 months where I have dropped so low. Painfully low. 

• I feel like I’m not as smart as I thought I was. I’ve failed a designation test for work 3 times in the past year and a half. 
• I am struggling to stay on top of everything. Probably because I have no help at home or at work.
• I attempted online dating for about 2 weeks and it was abysmal. In real life, I can feel my age making me invisible. I’ve lost some swagger. Not on the stage, I own that shit. But in interacting with people. I feel myself shrinking. And not bothering. 
• I used to be very social. I’m not anymore. Partially pandemic, partially my situation, partially just diversions of life. I honestly don’t miss it much, but it was nice to feel a part of something. 
• I feel strangled by mistakes I’ve made in my past that have led me to this point. 

I have a hard time communicating this to friends. Sometimes I’ll start talking about it but if we get into any depth, I begin to make light of it and change the subject. 

I miss love. I think it’s gone forever. I’m not being dramatic. I just cannot imagine a scenario where it would ever resurface. It’s a good thing I’m never bored. I’ll commit to art and learning. 

I don’t know. 

God, this is grim.

I am officially heavier than I have ever been. Part of me wonders if I was just trying to see if I could get this heavy. I can’t take it. I can’t look at myself. My self confidence has tanked. I’m in a hole. 

I’m smoking so much weed at night. Why? Well, it feels really nice and then I’m chasing that feeling which I can never recapture. I’m smoking too many cigarettes. I’m literally getting out of breath walking the dogs. My feet hurt. I FEEL old. 

I know this is kind of nutty but I also cannot picture myself as much older. I don’t know if it’s too difficult to think about time passing like that. Or if it’s something more. Am I going to get old? I’ve always felt really strongly about leaving art and music here to live on. I don’t know. I’m in a weird place. 

I’m feeling lonely but antisocial. I feel kind of adrift but I have nothing to say to reach out to people. I have nothing to say. I value silence. I know I have nothing to give right now. So I pull back. 

Also, I think I just don’t want to engage with my thoughts right now. They’re on repeat and aren’t helpful. 

After a couple of gigs in the past few weeks, I started to reconnect with myself as a musician and what a huge part of me that it is. My musician part is overindulgent and a little cocky. It’s the only part of me that’s like that. Without it, I don’t have arrogance. I’m confident enough. Or rather I don’t give a whole lot of fucks anymore. But that little bit of swagger helped me out of some deep muck. 

It felt good to play music for people. To feel in control and supported all at once. The exchange of energy, all in good will. The knowledge that I can deliver this thing that is so uniquely mine. It’s the only place in my life that I feel that way. And yet I push it away sometimes. If I’m being honest, that swagger isn’t always there. A lot of times I feel over my head. But it’s manageable. And it’s a challenge that I’m ok with. I think sometimes that energy exchange is taxing on me as an empath. I think the overindulgence can ruin me. I think the confidence butts up against insecurity off the stage. 

I’m depressed. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Maybe I should? Or maybe I should just focus on my home. I always feel better when I straighten up or offload things that are taking up space. 

I’m a dick because I really feel so “above” therapy. I know what my issues are. I know I’m not taking care of myself and that makes me feel shitty. I know I’m a perfectionist who crumbles at the first mistake because why bother any more. I know I tend to get this way and will eventually swing out of it. I don’t want to talk about why. I know why. I’ve studied it my whole life. It’s boring. Keep going. Keep going.

I am unfocused and unmotivated at work. I feel pigeon-holed as an “admin” even though I’m supposedly not one anymore. This is a thing that happens to women about my age in all fields. We are expected to be den mothers, making sure everyone has snacks and fielding complaints and doing all of the small work that no one wants to do, which adds up to a lot of fucking time. I resent that a lot. I sent my resume to a few places last week. I don’t have high hopes but it couldn’t hurt. I like the flexibility I have and my institutional knowledge is unbeatable. But I can’t escape the admin trap. 

And personal life wise… I feel like I don’t deserve one. I think that’s part of my weight shit too. This is a lot. 

I should probably write more. 

I have more to say here. 

I want to give myself over to healthy living. To yoga and art and counseling. Is my depression/ weight gain/ unhealthy behavior stemming from the fact that I’m not living in alignment with my passions? Seriously. That it’s such a bad fit that I’m doing anything in my power to make it hurt less? This problem that I have had almost every single year since I started working in an office at 23? Where I have ALWAYS felt less than. Where I keep looking over my shoulder for a thumbs-up from my parents… am I doing this right? Is this what you wanted?

Ugh.

I’m sad.

I’m sad. And lonely.

And sad.

And tired.

And lonely.

And sad.

I think every entry lately begins with “I’m struggling.” That short sentence is a constant ticker running through my brain. I think it’s partially to acknowledge that I am in the thick of something. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of telling me to reach out. Maybe it’s a validation that things really are hard right now.

But honestly, I just want to curl up and stay in bed all day every day. I don’t… because I can’t. It’s not an option. But  it’s hard. 

I am still able to recognize things that make me happy or that I’m grateful for. There’s a fat bee feasting on a rhododendron bush right now. I can’t help but smile. I am sitting on my precious deck with my dogs, listening to jazz, having tea, and taking time to write about my feelings. So I’m pretty fucking lucky. I get this. I’m very thankful for this gorgeous moment of peace and reflection. I’m wearing my favorite yoga pants and t-shirt. The sun is out but I’m in the blessed shade. I feel complete and right. 

That being said, I have a lot of sadness and resentment. I think much of it is surfacing from my separation. I went into survival mode to get here and to get through the past 6 months and now the feelings have time to bubble up. This makes absolute sense to me. 

Some other things I have been up to:

• Studying for a licensing exam for work which I will be taking in June. Finance stuff.
• Continuing through my Yoga 200 hour training. (I abandoned this when I moved in December. It’s catch up time.)

I’m still agonizing about wanting to become a Therapist. I think I’d be good at it. But I also feel like I’m all over the place (see above). I was looking into Life Coaching but I can’t figure out if I feel it’s legitimate enough. I just want to help people. Studying for this exam will be good for my trajectory at work and for my pockets. But it’s not my soul’s work. I am sure of this.

Anyway.

It’s been a while. I’ve got nothing very interesting to report. Single parenting is hard. Surprise? It feels like there is never a moment to catch your breath. My kid has seen his dad about one weekend a month since we moved. I have lost perspective as to whether that sounds terrible or not. It sucks for him because he misses his dad. It sucks for me because it’s been an especially chaotic time at my job and I am feeling worn down. I think the thing that makes me crazy is that the excuse for seeing him once a month is that he’s “too busy”. I could go on for several paragraphs as to why this is especially fascinating for this individual to say… but I won’t. The fact is that you can’t be too busy for your kid. It’s simply not an option. You figure it out. ANYHOO…

We’ve found our routine though. And I think we’re doing pretty good. I’ve been continuing my deep dive into self discovery and care.

I’ve had drinks twice.

WHAT?

Yeah. Both were with a friend. (Two different soul sisters) and they are aware of the situation. I explained that I am testing the waters and that I’m being cautious. Both occasions saw me drinking a very reasonable couple of drinks with said friends.

I’m trying not to think too much about parameters at the moment because I am not there. I’ve also been discovering how the parameters I put around myself are problematic. Constantly tracking what I’m eating, lists of everything. It’s become an obsession to regulate myself.

I had a problem. I addressed it. I waited to make a big decision with a clear mind and I frankly may continue on this route. But I’m gonna feel it out a little bit for now. Stupid? Maybe. I own it.

I also created an online dating profile that I will be deleting very soon. What a dump. First of all, I am a whole fucking vibe so I don’t translate well into 150 characters or less. Or whatever. No one does. And the whole swipe bullshit feels very gross to me. Initially, I complained to a friend that I was not getting enough attention (hahaha) but then I realized I had a bunch of parameters on. I cleared them out of curiosity and all of the 25 year olds starting rolling in. Child, no. At least it boosted my shattered self esteem for a minute. It’s all very strange and kind of comical.

I had never even seen the inside of one of these apps so this was mostly an exercise in curiosity. It was also influenced by loneliness and a dwindling sense of feeling remotely attractive. This exercise did not help at all. I was just notified that a “good match” was found with a guy in Oklahoma. Sure sure sure.

In reality, I cannot see being in a relationship. My divorce isn’t even complete. I guess I was hoping there was a nice person who might be in a similar position and would enjoy talking and/ or trading memes and jokes. And maybe something might happen? Or not? My plan is to Golden girls it out with my friends in later life anyway so whatever.

So I guess I had some interesting stuff to support. It’s all dumb though.

I am having a really hard time lately.

During the day I’m trying to work, and also tidying up, and also fielding questions and making lunch, and snacks, and making sure that chores get done. And I usually realize I haven’t eaten around 1 or 2pm. I eat. My brain is unfocused.

After 3, my son wants another snack. I have guilt for not getting him outside enough but I have work to do. I work, partially preoccupied by said guilt. Around 4, I feel bad and drag him out for a walk with the dogs. Or we’ll go to the playground if it isn’t too cold. We get back and it’s dinner time so I have to start dinner. I check my email to make sure nothing urgent has come up. I make dinner. We eat. I want to spend some time together. We watch a show while we eat and talk for a bit. He gets on the computer to call his friends. I catch up on work.

Throughout the day I am thinking of projects I wish I could work on. When I take a breather, I wind up scrolling and scrolling instead of doing something creative. More guilt.

Another snack, a bedtime story, an hour or so of saying “go to bed”, and if I’m not finishing up something for work, I try to do some pottery. I inevitably take a break to STUFF MY FACE with every imaginable snack available. I do some pottery, but I also scroll and scroll.

I’ve been online shopping too much. I am too fat. I am fucking mentally depleted. I watch shows too late. I panic because I want to savor this “alone time” or rather “quiet time”. Fall asleep too late, wake up too late and repeat.

Also my dad has surgery in the morning. I’m worried. I feel that he will be ok, but it’s still stressful to think about. I haven’t seen my parents in weeks. It was a nice respite to see them once every week or so. To talk to live human beings.

I am tired. The guilt, the relentlessness of parenting alone, trying to keep up with my thoughts. I am so tired.

This weed that I have – it’s like it erases your super short term memory. Like, I can’t remember what happened a minute ago and I’m always in that state of confusion. It suspends time and forces me to not get bogged down in rumination about the past or about my feelings of this separation.

And that’s why we drink or smoke. To get out of our heads and the dark heaviness that sludges around in there all day. And at night I’m always going. Cleaning up the house. Working with clay or yarn or paint. Constantly moving, creating ,doing. I don’t like idleness because it presents a risk of sitting with my feelings. Am I still processing them while I’m working? This “work” is play. Creating is home for me.  Am I working through the feelings though? Am I covering them up? Or is creating like lye – simply dissolving the pain into another form?

What are my feelings right now?

Deep breaths.

Sad. Anxious. Relieved. Solid. Tired. Grief. Disappointment. Love and hope and connection.

Guilt of being a bad partner or a bad mother when I was drinking.

Guilt for drinking. So much and so long.

About him I feel… loss, disappointment, pity, rejection, guilt. I will miss the little moments like going to the diner together or having those night time conversations about politics, music, which celebrities are hot. And then I think of the loneliness, disconnect, lack of support, feeling stifled and overruled. But we hugged a lot. I miss that. I loved him but he wasn’t giving me enough of what I needed. A collapsed lung.

My sexuality feels dead. I feel old and fading. I’ve always been apologetic about my body – about my entire presence. SO anxious to be in my own skin. Panic of being looked at. Flaws found. Spotlighted.

I worry that no one will find me beautiful again. Or that the youngest I’ll ever appear in their eyes is this. I worry that I’ll be alone. I can’t imagine sharing space with anyone. I can’t imagine sex. I can’t imagine another body being anywhere near my body. And I know it’s too early to even consider any of that but I really would love to have something to look forward to. That delicious feeling of having a crush – I can’t even picture having it ever again. And that makes me so sad.

This was helpful I think.