Ugh. December.

December is coming and I am starting to believe god is a figment of my fucking imagination. Again.

Wtf?!?

I just do not know. I am sitting here and thinking back on these last few months and I realize, Bob and I are still deadlocked in our chess game yet he has abandoned me at the table. Alone.

Maybe he wants to see if I move a piece illegally or give up. I am sick of tests.

He isn't completely wrong. In the last few weeks, I have had an overwhelming feeling to cut myself when the pain gets too bad. I have not gone through with it because that is not who I am.

Seriously. What the fuck? I guess I will continue to wait...

Week Nine

As I begin this writing, I take a deep breath of air. Nothing has changed over these last two weeks. Still disappointed, still stressed, still confused. Oh well... on to the assignment.

Meditation:

I don't know anymore. I cannot even sit and stare for a long time to look "within." I have no words to describe the state of mind that I am in. It's weird.

I just constantly question this. "This" being everything. In the last 72 hours I have contemplated cutting my hands and/or running away. Who am I becoming?

Prayer:

I have only talked to Bob about a few things. If he has listened, who knows? The topics?

• I need the strength to make a decision in my current relationship.
• I want the strength to stop hurting myself.
• I need the love I deserve around me.

Again, a breath of air. I just do not know.

Week Seven

With God/Bob taking a holiday away from me, my spiritual methods have become a saying from most mothers, "I feel like I am talking to a brick wall!"

But brick wall or not, I still attempted to find some peace with my methods. Instead, I found more disappointment.

Meditation:

I realize that the first thing that people notice about me is my looks but as I sit in front of the mirror and try to look inward, I can't help but notice that same quality. I have depended on my outward appearance to hide away the scared girl inside. I am scared. I sit for what seems like forever. Before I know it, I am in tears. I am so disappointed in myself and the more I look inside, the uglier I feel. I have to stop because I know where this depression leads; into my closet with a will in my head and a knife in my hand.

Prayer:

Dear Bob, Please give me the strength to be stronger. To be better.

That is it. That is week seven. I feel alone and drowning in disappointment.

Weeping Willows

He said he wants to rip out one tree and replace it with a weeping willow. That made me smile. I remember in high school when I was sad and lonely I would take the bus or drive to Forest Park and sit underneath a weeping willow. I would usually cry, question Bob. I felt safe, hidden away.

My body is burning from the disappointment I feel towards myself. All I want is to be able to run away to that tree. Cry. Hide.

I am scared of what is to come. I feel like Bob has taken a vacation away from me. Maybe he is sitting underneath the tree.

The Sun is Shining..

at least it was yesterday. Oh and also yesterday, I found out my uncle died on Thursday.

I immediately started to smile. I even did a little dance. When I got home, I popped a bottle of champagne.

My only sadness of this news: he will be buried next to grandma. He doesn't deserve that privilege.

Week Five

These last two weeks, I have found myself meditating and praying in the oddest places.

Meditation:

One:
Staring into the passenger side mirror. Looking at myself. Judging myself. Who am I? Why am I here? Ugh, Bob really knows how to get me to question myself.

Two:
Watching "Say Yes to the Dress." Stupid love stories. I am not a sensitive person yet I find myself in tears. Ugh, multiple sclerosis.

Now, prayer.

One:
Praying I hear Chumbawamba's "Tubthumper" for a sign to move on professionally when in reality I know that praying is just a pep talk. Ugh, reality.

Two:
Praying that fibromyalgia is really a made-up disease so I can be stronger than a fake mind illness. It sucks to be a prisoner of something that is fake! Ugh, craziness.

Ugh!! That is the word of the week. Ugh!!! I am really sick of life sometimes. Meditation... Prayer... Laying here, writing this... I just want to scream... So I instead am going to take some advil pm and sleep off my ughness.